Call Me Crazy

by Quinn Loftis

  ~

  My grandmother hugs Tally before she goes into the house and I wait leaning my back against my truck. I watch as she slowly walks towards me, her movements stiff and hesitant.

  “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on with you?” I ask, and barely hide the anger that has been festering at her constant distance. She stands nearly five feet from me and makes no move to close the distance.

  “I am,” she says simply.

  I wait. She stares at me, then looks down at her arms, and begins fidgeting with her sleeves. When she finally looks back up at me, I see wetness gathering in her eyes.

  “I only came over here to tell you that it’s over.”

  I tilt my head slightly as my eyes narrow on her. I don’t say anything; I want to see if she will give me her ridiculous reasons for thinking that she is right in breaking things off between us.

  “I’m breaking up with you Trey,” she reiterates.

  “I am completely capable of understanding your words, Tally. You do not have to repeat them in a different way,” I growl. She takes a step back, and I know that she feels the rage she has provoked in me.

  “I am so sorry for your loss, truly I am, but it has made me realize that this can never work. You don’t deserve to be with someone who has the potential to end up at the same end as your mother.” I can’t stop the flinch that comes from her words, as if she had slapped me hard in the face.

  “I am never going to be completely okay. I will always be a wild card and you shouldn’t have to live with that. Please hear what I’m saying, and know that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  I can feel my blood beginning to boil and wonder if she sees steam coming off of my skin.

  “I am so very sick of you telling me what you think I deserve, or need. I love you Tally and you own my heart and soul, but you do not own my free will. I choose who I want to be with; I know what I deserve and what I need. You can’t determine that for me and it’s beginning to piss me off that you seem to think you are entitled to make my decisions for me.” My voice is shaking with anger and I know part of it is from fear. Fear of losing her, fear that she will choose someone else.

  “Fine,” she snaps back, “you are correct; I can’t make your decisions for you. I, however, can make them for me, and I’m telling you that I can’t be with you.”

  “And, who can you be with Tally?” I take a step closer to her. “Who do you think you need? Who is better for you than me? Who can make you breathe?” I know my words are cruel, but I can’t stop them. She needs to see the ignorance of her choice and I will say whatever I have to in order for that to happen.

  “WHO?” I yell.

  “NO ONE!” Her hands are fisted at her side, and the tears that she had held in her eyes are caressing her cheeks. “No one, is that what you want to hear? Do you need to humiliate me in order to make yourself feel better?”

  “I’m not trying to humiliate you baby, I’m trying to make you see reason. You are mine Tally. You need me, you want me, and you complete every part of me that has been missing. I won’t give you up, no matter how badly you think you want that.”

  Her eyes narrow and pierce me like daggers. She pulls her shoulders back and her chin rises defiantly. “It’s over Swift. Stay away from me.”

  She turns and walks quickly away, and gets into her car. I watch as she backs out, and then speeds away her, tires squealing as she goes.

  “You are mistaken Tally Baker,” I mutter to her retreating tail lights, “it is never going to be over between us, and nothing will ever keep me away from you.”

  Chapter 26

  “I’ve heard it said that trials come in threes. I hope it isn’t true because I don’t think I can handle one more thing, not now, not without him.” ~Tally

  Some believe that it’s possible to die from a broken heart. At one time I would have said that that was a ridiculous statement, but that was before my own heart had been ripped from my chest leaving a gaping hole. It’s my own fault, I get that, and I think that quite possibly makes it even more painful.

  I haven’t been back to school since before Trey’s mother’s death. Dr. Stacey wrote me a note to take a couple weeks off and I don’t think I have ever been more grateful. It’s been a week since I’ve spoken to Trey, though it hasn’t been a week since I’ve seen him. He comes to my house every day after school, knocks on the door, and asks to speak with me. My mother tells him I don’t want to see him, and if she isn’t there to answer it, he pounds on the door and yells through it. Today will be one of those days.

  I walk down the stairs and place my back against the door, waiting for him. I need the closeness, knowing that all that is separating me from him is the couple of inches of thickness that is my front door. I’ve been drowning again; breathing gets more difficult every day, and the nights are nearly unbearable.

  I hear his truck and feel the ache that has been ever present begin to grow even stronger. My chest constricts, and when I hear the first knock, I turn and press my face to the door.

  “Tally, open the damn door.” His voice isn’t as patient as it has been, and I wonder if he is finally growing tired of this. Will today be the last time he comes? Have I finally succeeded in pushing him away for good? The thought is enough to drive me to my knees, and I hit the floor as a sob escapes my throat. He pauses and I know he heard me.

  “OPEN THE DOOR!” His knocking increases in speed and intensity, I’m confident that he could break the door down if he wanted to, and I almost hope that he does. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take. How many more days until I cave, rip the door open, and throw myself into his strong arms.

  “I know you’re there baby, I can feel you through this door. I feel your pain, and if it’s half as bad as mine, then I know you are dying. I can’t…,” I hear a thud against the door and this is different than his fist. I imagine his forehead hitting the door in frustration and hurt and it breaks my heart all over again. “I can’t breathe; how can you think this is the right thing for us when I can’t function without you?”

  My hand reaches up and caresses the door, imagining that it is his face and that he’s staring back at me soaking in every detail. He’s quiet and I know he’s getting ready to leave. I don’t want him to leave. I need him more than I’ve needed anything in my life. “I need you Trey,” I whisper against the cold door. “I can’t breathe either.” He can’t hear me, but he knows, he knows I’m dying right along with him.

  I hear his engine start up, and then fade away as he drives away. I slip further down the door until my face is pressed against the floor. I can’t swallow, as the anger and pain swell up into a scream that rushes from my lungs.

  “I CAN’T DO THIS!” I yell as my hand beats against the floor, the sting against my palm I welcome like an old friend, grasping for that tiny relief. I know that I need to get up. I need to get to my room before my parents get home and somehow I force myself to crawl up the stairs, though with every step the sobs continue to wrack my tired body.

  I collapse on my bed and press my face into the pillow attempting to muffle the screams of rage. The heat of my tears burns my skin, and I wonder, not for the first time, if it is possible to run out of tears.

  ~

  “Tally you have to get up.”

  I hear Natalie’s voice, and for a moment, I want to jump up and wrap my arms around her, but I don’t want to leave the safety of my bed.

  “TALLY, GET UP!” Her voice is sharp, and I cringe at the fury and anxiety that lace her words.

  I roll over and peak out from the covers. The sunlight streaming through the now open curtains causes me to squint. I look up at her. She’s standing a few feet from my bed, her arms are folded across her chest, and her forehead is wrinkled in worry.

  “You’ve been hiding in here for nearly two weeks; it’s time to start living again. I know you’re hurting, I know you miss him, but life goes on and yo
u have to go on with it.”

  “No, I don’t.” I inform her bluntly.

  “Do you want to go back to Mercy? Because if you keep this up, your parents are going to make you go back.”

  “Frankly Nat I don’t give a damn where I go. I just want to be left alone. I know you’re worried about me and I love you for it, but please, this time, just let me be.” I plead with her and need her to hear me, because I just can’t do it, I can’t go to school and see him every day.

  “Okay, you brought this on yourself; don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  My door swings open, and in walks Dr. Stacey. I slowly sit up as I watch her walk into my room. She smiles warmly at Natalie, “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

  Natalie shoots me one more worried look before leaving.

  Dr. Stacey looks around my room, and I know she must think a tornado has been wreaking havoc, because the floor is covered in clothes, papers, and books.

  “It seems that not only have the chemicals gotten out of whack, but so have your circumstances.” She takes a seat on the chair at my desk and leans back crossing her legs. She seems so out of place in my mess, and yet she doesn’t appear bothered in the least.

  “Life happened, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know if I can deal with it.” I tell her.

  “I understand that, but this is not healthy and will only lead you further down a road that you don’t belong on. I know it sucks to have to hear this again, but Tally your disease will always be a part of your life and you can either let it rule you or you can be the master of it. We have gone over all the things you need to cope in situations that feel completely overwhelming, but it is up to you to implement them. You cannot alienate yourself from your support system.”

  “I know. I know everything you are telling me to be true, but I don’t care!” I turn towards her so I can see her more clearly. “This is where I am right now, and I don’t know how to move forward.”

  She stares at me for a few silent moments, and then looks over at my desk. She grabs a piece of paper and a pen and turns so that she can lay her arm on the desk to write.

  “We’re going to make a plan and you are going to live the plan out minute by minute, hour by hour, small victory by small victory.” She looks down at the paper and begins to write. I sit watching her, knowing that whatever she is writing is pointless, but I will let her give her little speech, and then crawl back in my hole once she is gone.

  “Okay,” she finally says. “Number one: you will get up and take a shower. Number two: you will put on clean clothes. Number three: you will eat something. Number four: you will make your bed.” She looks over at me, “Those are the things you will do for the next three days. I will be back on the fourth day and we will set more goals. If you cannot meet these goals, then I will recommend that you be readmitted to Mercy, and I will put you on suicide watch.”

  My eyes widen at her announcement and for a brief moment, I think that she is bluffing, but then I look in her eyes and I know that she will do exactly what she says she will.

  I give a slight nod to tell her I relent. She stands, leaving the paper on my desk. As she pulls the door open, she looks back at me, “You can do this Tally, and when you figure out that it’s okay for people to love you, that you deserve love, you will find that life is much more bearable. I’ll see you in three days.” She shuts the door behind her, and I’m left sitting in my empty disaster of a room. I’m left alone, desperately wanting to do what doc is telling me to, but feeling utterly powerless to follow through.

  ~

  It’s day two and I’m up, showered, dressed, and I’m exhausted. I’m still in too much anguish to feel any victories. It’s getting close to time for Trey to be show up, and I’m trying to steel myself for the onslaught of emotions that come when I hear his voice.

  The knocking comes, but only once. I hear several voices and know that there is more than just my mom and Trey talking at the front door. The murmuring goes on for a few moments, and I hear the deep timber of Treys voice, but I can’t make out his words.

  The talking ceases, and I begin to hear footsteps on the stairs. I feel my body growing tense as I begin to hope, and yet, dread at the same time that Trey might open my door.

  There is a soft knock, and then Dr. Stacey’s voice comes through, “Tally, can I come in?”

  I frown at the door. She told me I had three days.

  “Yes, you can come in,” I tell her. She opens the door just enough to squeeze through and I wonder what or who she is trying to keep from me. Once the door is closed, she walks to the bed, and takes a seat next to me. She seems nervous, and ruffled. These are two words that have never described Dr. Stacey, before, until today.

  “I have some very difficult news Tally.”

  My heart sinks, and I feel the color drain from my face. I can’t handle anymore. I just can’t handle anymore.

  “Candy has passed away.”

  I feel the world drop out from under me. How can this be happening? What the hell have I done to deserve such horrific tragedies?

  “I don’t think she ever told you, but she had cancer. It started in a lymph node in her breast and quickly spread. She chose not to have chemotherapy, because the doctors weren’t very sure it would prolong her life any. She didn’t want to spend her last months too sick to live. Zeke found her in her bed this morning.”

  I don’t know what it is about utter despair that makes me need to vomit, but for some reason that seems to be an automatic response. I lunge for the trash can next to my desk knowing I will never make it to the bathroom. The retching of my stomach pushes loud gasps from my chest and tears, that I’m so sick of crying, begin, once again, to make my cheeks their home. I hear my door open, but don’t turn to see who it is. I know who it is the minute his hand touches my neck. I don’t hesitate as I turn, and throw myself into his arms.

  I don’t know how many times a person can be crushed and ripped to pieces. I fear that I just might die, as I gasp for breath between sobs. Trey’s arms tighten in an attempt to hold me still. He shifts me, and when he sets me on his lap, I know he must be sitting on my bed. I bury my face in his neck and wrap my arms around him. Over and over, I breathe in his scent, but the comfort I usually find isn’t there, not this time. The hole Candy’s death has left in me is too deep for any comfort.

  “I’m here baby, I’ve got you.” I hear his voice, and his chest vibrates against mine as he speaks. I cling to the sound. I am so desperate for any part of him. The longer I cry, the longer I think of the loss, and the angrier I become. I want to scream and punch something. I need to hurt physically to cope with the emotions, but I know that isn’t the right way to deal with it so instead I sink deep into my love’s arms, and let him rock me and stroke my hair and back. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly and eventually the tears exhaust me, and I feel myself allowing the darkness to swallow me.

  Before I’m completely gone, I reach for consciousness and whisper, “I love you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere love, rest now.” He lays us down, me on my side and him behind me. He wraps his body around mine and pulls me back against him. I feel his breath on my neck as I drift off and I try to focus on that feeling instead of the knowledge that I will never see Candy again.

  I awake to a strong arm holding my midsection and for a moment I start to panic. Then I remember that Trey is with me, that he came in after Dr. Stacey told me ... I freeze my mind before I let the thought go any further. I’m not ready. I need a moment without the blur of tears, and the chest tightening sobs.

  I feel Trey stir behind me and lay my arm over the one he has across my midsection.

  “How are you?” His voice is gravely from sleep, and I imagine what it would be like to wake up to that voice every day.

  “I’m tired. I’m just so very tired.”

  “I’m so sorry baby. I know what she meant to you.”

  I turn so that I’m lying facing him. He looks exhausted
and I know it’s my fault. I did that to him and for what? All the tears, pain, and despair that came with the decision to try and push away the best thing that ever happened to me.

  “It doesn’t feel real. As stupid as it sounds, I just never thought she would die. She always seemed so invincible, so capable. I just can’t imagine a world without her.” I look at his face and see the expression I’ve come to know as his listening face, and it’s one of the many things I adore about him. He doesn’t just listen to me, he hears me.

  “She was definitely one of a kind,” he smiles a small crooked smile and I imagine he is remembering some of the things she said and did. He was right, there was no one like Candy, and I doubt there ever will be.

  “My parents know you’re up here with me?” I ask, suddenly realizing that I’m lying with a guy in my room with the door closed.

  “Yes,” his face is suddenly stern. “Your father didn’t want to let me in, but your mother insisted that he allow it. Dr. Stacey arrived at the same time I did. She told me what had happened and there was no way in hell I was leaving you.”

  “I’m glad you were here, that you’re here now.”

  “You’re going to be okay Tally.” He says it with such conviction, I want to believe him.

  “I wish I knew that to be true.”

  ~

  Trey has to leave after being with me for nearly twenty four hours. Candy’s funeral is tomorrow and he’s promised to pick me up. As I watch him drive away, I know that tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

  I spend the day alternating from tears and grief to anger and despair, sometimes pacing my room and other times staring up at my ceiling from the floor. Natalie has called several times but I just can’t talk. My mom has checked on me several times, and one of those times I actually broke down and cried in her arms.