“I hate myself so much.”
“You look out for us,” she says.
“Kate, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. I don’t know how much longer I, or any of us can survive. It has to stop.”
“It will.”
“When?” I feel myself choking on my words. But I have to be strong, for all of us. I pull away from Kate, and hop up to my feet. Pacing in front of her, I try my hardest to push the monster, this demon version of myself, as far away as I can. The weight bar shines over on the other side of the room. I walk over to it, load it up with two fifty-pound weights on either side, and begin lifting.
“AJ, that’s pretty heavy,” Kate says as she gets to her feet and heads toward me.
“I like it heavy. It helps me deal with it all.” A hundred pounds on each side isn’t enough. I lower the bar, then add another fifty pounds on each side.
“AJ!” Kate snaps. The shock in her voice is undeniable. “AJ! You’re going to hurt yourself.” She walks over, and stands in front of me. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she looks angry at me. Good. I deserve her anger. “Put that down,” she insists.
“No. If you don’t like it, go away.” The moment I say the words, I already regret them. I shouldn’t be so hard on her. She’s just trying to help me. But I have to deal with my atrocities.
Kate’s eyes fill with tears. I’ve made her cry, too. It’s not what I want, but she has to let me deal with this.
Kate takes a step backward. Then another. Her knees find the edge of my bed, and she flops back on it. “Well, if you’re going to be an ass, then you owe me,” she says.
“Fine, I owe you. Can you go now?” I pump the bar, my arms are stinging, and I have sweat running down my back. I feel drips of sweat clinging to the short hairline across my nape.
“So, you admit you owe me?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Can’t she see I’m trying to get rid of her?
“And I can call on that anytime I want?”
“Yes. Jeez, Kate, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yes, I am.” She smiles cheekily. “Then I call on what you owe me, now.” She stands, stomps one foot, and holds her head high.
Man, she’s cocky. I can’t help but smile at her. “Not now,” I say trying to not allow her infectious, bubbly personality to distract me from my own demons.
“Yes, now. You said you owe me, and you agreed that I can call on the favor any time I want. You said those words, AJ.” She points to me.
“Ugh,” I grumble, setting the bar down and taking the weights off the ends. “Fine, what do you want to do?”
“I want to play Monopoly,” she says as she rummages around my book shelf, and brings out the board game.
“Okay, but I’m throwing you out in half an hour so I can keep beating myself up.”
She places the game on the bed, looks at me and flicks her hand. “Whatever,” she says.
When I finish putting the weights away, I flop on the bed beside the open game. The pieces she’s taken out jump up, then land on the board in the wrong spots. “I’m the race car. I’m always the race car.” I put back the dog, and get the car.
“I’m the car!”
“No can do, sister,” I tease. “I’m the car. And your puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work on me this time.”
“You suck,” she grumbles. “Then I’m the banker.” She slides the money over to her.
“No way in hell are you the banker. You cheat.”
“I do not,” she replies indignantly. But her cheeky smile gives away the truth.
“Then how did you end up with an extra two-thousand dollars after one round of the game the last time we played?”
She flicks her hand at me again. “I did not.”
“You’re not the banker.” I slide the money over to me, and far enough away that Kate can’t reach out and take it.
“Fine. Be the banker. I’ll still kick your butt.”
We start playing the game, and Kate’s intent on winning. She’s concentrating so hard her tongue sticks out the side of her mouth as she rolls the dice. “Ha! I’m passing go. Hand it over, bank man.” She holds her hand out for the two-hundred dollars.
I give her the money, and we keep playing. Although Kate’s doing the best she can to distract me, my mind is still playing events over and over on repeat. But I have to forget them. “Hey, how did you get that?” I ask as I point to one of the best properties on the board.
“I bought it,” Kate says.
“Oh man, you’re a cheat. We’ve only had two rounds of the game, and you haven’t given the banker any money.”
“What?” She crosses her legs in front of her. “I also bought these.” She points to another three properties.
“Cheat!” I call her out.
“No. You must’ve gone to the bathroom.”
“I haven’t moved.” Truthfully, I know she cheats. She always does at games. But I don’t mind. I never have.
“Yeah, you went to the bathroom.”
“You can insist all you want. We both know, you cheat.”
She smiles at me. A cute, perfect dimple appears on her cheek when she smiles. I love Kate for so many reasons. I love her infectious laugh, and I love her bubbly personality, but most of all, I just love her for the person she is.
“Okay,” she says with an eye roll. “I will neither confirm nor deny I cheated.”
“Which means you cheat.” I point at her.
“I am merely an expert at sleight of hand.”
“So now you’re a magician.” I can’t help but chuckle. She always makes me happy whenever she’s around.
“Oh man,” Kate says and looks toward my door. “Can you smell that?” I look behind me at the door, and after a moment, shake my head. “You never can smell it. But it’s like a beacon to me. Like a lighthouse in the middle of the night. It’s intoxicating.”
“I can’t smell it.” I inhale deeply in case I get the smell she does.
“Hmmm, popcorn. Yum. I’ve gotta go.” She hops up off the bed, and four other property cards fall out of her pockets.
“Hey!” I grumble as I pick up the cards and wave them at Kate.
“Yeah, sorry about that.” She winks at me, as if to say, I’m not really sorry. “Popcorn.” She wipes at her mouth and leaves my room in a hurry.
I pack up the game and put it away. Kate always makes me feel better. Even when she disappears at the smell of popcorn. “Can’t believe you chose popcorn over me,” I mumble.
I grab my dumbbells, and start working on my arms again. This time, not to punish myself, but to improve myself. To be stronger, because they deserve for me to be stronger for them.
The moment I saw him huddled on the floor I knew I had to do something. I can’t stand seeing AJ like that.
AJ is tough and strong. But seeing him a crumpled mess just screws with my head. It hurts me to see him so broken.
When he shoved me against the wall, I knew how bad this one was going to be. Usually he can hold it together enough to get the job done. I shouldn’t have tried to interfere. It’s not my place to hinder his work. He has a responsibility, and he has a commitment to it, regardless of how we feel.
Standing outside Neve’s bedroom door, I take a few deep breaths before I go in to see her. I hate having to come in here, but I know Neve needs me. Especially in these times.
I creak the door open, and Neve is sitting in the corner on the floor, hugging her knees, crying.
“Hey, Neve,” I say, taking in her appearance.
Neve is the youngest of us. She’s eleven, but she’s lived a hard eleven years. We all have. Neve looks up to see who’s in her room, the moment her gaze falls on me, she lowers her head again and draws her knees in tighter.
“Do you want to play a game?” I ask as I slowly approach her.
“No thank you,” she says in a small voice.
“Do you want to color?” I sit cross-legged beside her.
Neve doesn
’t answer. Her tears seem to have stopped. “Okay,” she replies after a long time. I stand and hold my hand out to her. She shakes her head. She pushes up off the floor and follows me to the desk in her room. I open a drawer, and take out a coloring book and some pencils. “I like this one,” she says and points to another book.
I smile as I look at it. “It’s my favorite one,” I say. The coloring book has stars, planets, and the universe in it. I empty the pencils on the table, and Neve flinches when they hit the hard wood. “It’s okay,” I whisper.
She reaches for the yellow, and begins to shade in a scene that has the sun shining, and tall flowers among thick grass fields. “I want to lay with the flowers,” she says in a small voice.
Her limp hair is hanging over her face. Smudges of dirt darken her cheeks. Her young eyes are so hollow. “Can I lay with you?” I ask. “We can look up at the clouds, and watch as the birds fly over us.”
“No. I don’t want you there,” she answers candidly. “I want it to be just me. I want to be somewhere where I’ll never hear that song again.”
My stomach churns as I listen to Neve. I can completely understand that she wouldn’t want anyone there. “What would you do if you were in the flowers?” I pick the red pencil up, and color in a flower.
Neve’s head is down, she’s coloring on the edge of the page. She shrugs her shoulders. The room is quiet, and tense. The curtains are drawn, so the only light is what’s coming from the overhead bulb. “I’d stay there until I became a flower.”
“But flowers die,” I say as we continue to color.
“I want to die,” she says in her soft voice.
I stop coloring, and lift my head to look at her. She doesn’t understand the heaviness of what she’s said. Or maybe she does, and she actually wants to die. “Do you know what my favorite food is?” I ask, trying my hardest to get her thoughts away from the burden she must feel like she’s bearing.
“No.”
My heart breaks for Neve. She’s so young, and gentle. And her voice is anything but angry or sad. It tears my heart into two, watching her color while she talks about dying. “I love popcorn,” I say.
“I’m not allowed popcorn. One time I was allowed ice cream.” Her face remains stoic, unchanged despite the emptiness she must be feeling.
We both reach for the pencils, and my fingers accidently touch the back of her hand. She swiftly pulls it away and looks up, her face filled with fright. She stares at me for a split second before she begins screaming. The ear-piercing noise she makes is filled with horror.
“I’m sorry,” I say, jumping back. “I’m sorry, Neve, I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up, showing her how I’m not a threat. “I’m so sorry.”
Neve’s eyes are still wide with terror. She’s breathing rapidly, as her hands tremble in clenched fists.
“Neve, look. Can you help me color?” I move forward quickly, pick up another pencil and color the grass green.
Neve stops screaming, but remains in the same spot. I can hear her breathing heavy as she settles herself. Her little shoulders are slumped as she stands, not really sure what she should do.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again, and I mean it every time I say it. Tears well in my eyes, but I hold them in. I can’t have Neve see me crying for her. I hate how I made her scream. I hate that I caused her pain.
“It’s okay,” she says in a tiny voice.
“I know you don’t like being touched. I was careless.”
“You didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident.” Neve has a beautiful heart. She’s so forgiving of everything around her.
“I won’t do it again. I’ll be more careful.”
I hear her crawling along the floor, coming back to the table. Out of my peripheral vision, I see her pick up another pencil and continue coloring. The safest thing for me to do is slide most of the pencils to her side, so I don’t mistakenly touch her again. I see her cheeks puff up, like she’s trying to smile. “Thank you,” she says.
“You’re welcome.”
“Maybe next time you can bring me some popcorn and I can try it.”
“I can ask AJ to bring some.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t like seeing AJ. I know he has to be here, but I also know what happens when I see him. He never visits me unless it’s to tell me it’s time.”
My heart is squashed. My entire body feels crushed. I pick the pink pencil up, and color one of the flowers. “Which is your favorite color? I like yellow,” I say.
“Purple is mine.”
“Why purple?”
“When I look at purple, I see so many possibilities. Like, if it’s dark, I see strength. When it’s a light purple, I see happiness. But I don’t like red. When I see red I see pain.” She shakes her head, like she’s dislodging a particularly unpleasant image. “I hate red.” She picks the pencil up, stares at it for a moment, before she snaps it in half and throws both pieces on the table. “There’s too much red around me.”
While she continues coloring, I quietly take the two red halves, and slide them into my pocket. If red is a trigger of hate, then I’ll remove it so she doesn’t have to look at it any more. I look around her room, and can’t see any red anywhere. Actually, her room is quite sterile, bleak even. The bed is small, with a beige blanket and beige pillowcases. Her walls are all a pale blue color. The curtains are a heavy, dark blue. Other than a cupboard, and her desk, there’s nothing to give this room personality.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I offer.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I like to color.”
“You don’t want to do anything else?”
“Just color.”
“Want to listen to music?” I’m trying to get her to interact with me more, but Neve has all her walls up.
“I don’t like music.”
Who doesn’t like music? Obviously, Neve. “Do you mind if I stay for a bit longer so I can color with you?” I ask. Neve needs someone around, and I want to be that someone who’s here for her.
“I want to be by myself.”
“How about a friend from school then? I can call them.”
“I don’t have friends, Kate.”
I want to lean over and hug her, I want to tell her that I’m her friend. But I know how much she hates being touched. “I’m your friend,” I say.
“You’re here after I hear the song and come back from him.” I slump my shoulders, grief-stricken and utterly sad. She looks up at me, and must see the hurt in me. “Kate,” she says. I lift my chin and plaster a fake smile on my face. “It’s okay that you come after the song. I don’t want you here any more than you want to be here.”
My entire soul splinters at the thought of poor little eleven-year-old Neve, who’s so kind and forgiving.
“I tell you what, Neve. I’m going to come back tomorrow. Because I want us to be friends. I want you to know that I do want to be here. Not just after that song, but whenever you need me.” It’s the least I can do, considering everything she does for M.
Her lips pull up into a half-smile. “I’d like that,” she says.
Standing, I walk toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say.
“Can you bring some popcorn?” she asks with hope in her voice.
“If I can, I promise I will.”
She continues coloring as I walk away.
I have to try to be better, especially for Neve.
“Neve, are you in there?” I say as I knock on her door.
“Yeah,” she calls from inside.
“Can I come in?” I want to give her as much control as possible. It might make her feel safe around me.
“Yeah,” she says again.
I open the door, and find her laying on her bed, reading a book. “Whatcha reading?” I ask as I make my way slowly into her room, and sit on the end of the bed.
“A book.”
I smile. “I can see that. What’s it about?”
She moves the book so I can
see the cover, and I’m surprised to see it’s a picture book on frogs. “Do you like frogs?” I ask.
“Not really. But they’re part of nature, and I want to be part of nature too.”
Her hair is fanned out on the pillow, and she’s got one leg crossed over the other as she keeps turning the pages. “Want to draw?” I offer.
“Nope. I want to look at my book. Did you know frogs absorb water through their skin, so they don’t need to drink?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Did you know a frog can live up to about twelve years? Unless people are cruel, and kill them. People can be so cruel and heartless.” Her tone is even, like she’s talking from experience. “Kate?”
“Yeah?”
Neve doesn’t lower the book she’s looking at. She talks as she keeps looking at the pages. “Do you think I’m like a frog, and I’ll die by the time I’m twelve?”
I gasp at her casual words. “Don’t say that, Neve. Life is beautiful.”
She lets out a small, mirthless chuckle. “For who? You? AJ? Me? Because we know life is anything but beautiful. It might be for some, but not for us…me,” she quickly corrects. “Not from what I’ve seen, and…,” she immediately stops herself before she says anything else.
“I know that’s how it feels right now, Neve. But I thoroughly believe that change is coming, for all of us.”
She chuckles, then clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “That change can only happen when my life ends.”
A huge lump forms in the pit of my stomach. “Neve, let’s color.” I stand and walk over to her desk.
She lowers the book and looks at the door. “AJ is coming,” she says.
I look to the door too, but can’t see him. “I don’t think so.”
“I can feel him. He’s close.” She sits up in bed, and places the book next to her. Standing, she heads to the door, and stands just inside, staring out.
“He’s not coming.”
Neve turns to look at me. Her eyes brimming with tears. “I can’t keep doing this,” she says. “This isn’t life. This is a slow, painful death. It’s slowly killing every part of me.”
Echoes of You Page 2