Page 15 of Hunt for the Roses
A knock on the bedroom door kicks me out of my own thoughts. “Ari, I have lunch for you,” my mom says as she comes through the bedroom door.
I don’t speak or move at all as my eyes focus on a single tree branch dancing in the breeze. My eyes move in sync with the twig, and I become taunted by the energy and happiness that emits from its movement and bright green leaves.
I hear my mom set the plate of food on the nightstand and feel her sit behind me on the bed. “Ari, you have to eat. You’ve hardly eaten anything these past two weeks.”
I say nothing and just continue to stare out the window. I don’t want to deal with the real world. If I deal with the real world, I am accepting Kyle’s death.
I feel the bed shift as my mom lies down and cuddles me from behind, wrapping an arm around my stomach. I finally break my silence in a strained whisper. “I don’t know how I can go on without him. My heart hurts so much, Mom.” A single tear falls out of the corner of my eye, but my face doesn’t contort with the emotion or scrunch an inch. Even my grief has become as deadening as my joy, and my soul is vacant.
When my mom kisses the back of my head and hugs me even tighter, another wave of crying wracks my entire body, and the sound of the rattling pieces inside my chest haunts me once again.
* * *
~Two Months After~
Ronnie and Cheryl are forcing me to go out tonight, and it’s the first time I’m leaving my parents’ house since Kyle’s death. Well, I’ve left my parents’ house for short walks outside and quick trips to the grocery store, but I haven’t left the house for any substantial reason.
I’m on autopilot in the mirror, not really consciously thinking about getting ready, but just going through the motions. I don’t feel like going out, so I feel no need to look the part as I throw on a black hoodie, leggings, and sneakers. I don’t even bother to style my hair, so I just leave it straight down, and not a stitch of makeup touches my skin.
When we enter Shippers, Ronnie and Cheryl lead me to a booth where Kate, Trent, and Dane are sitting. The three of them stand up and hug me hello, and I throw a forced smile their way.
When we all sit down, Ronnie looks at me. “What do you want to drink?”
“Water is fine for now.”
“Do you want to try this sour I just ordered?” Kate offers as she slides her beer across the table.
I throw her a tight-lipped smile. “Sure.” I take a small sip just to appease Kate, and look up to her after. “What is it?”
“Very Berry Lady,” Kate says. “Do you want me to get you one?”
I shake my head. “No, that’s okay. I’m not really in the mood for drinking tonight.”
Everyone throws awkward eyes at each other, and I want nothing more than to scream. Scream at Ronnie and Cheryl for making me come out. Scream at Kate, Trent, and Dane for agreeing to thinking this night out would be successful. Scream at all of them for trying to help me at all.
I take a sip of my water that was ordered for me before I got there, and Dane’s the next to speak. “Can we get you something to eat?”
“I’ll look at the menu,” I respond. Silence commences once again, and I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I look at the menu I could recite in my sleep. Right now, looking anywhere but everyone’s faces is good enough for me. I despise feeling like a charity case, and I hate knowing that anything my family or friends offer won’t bring Kyle back to life. Their efforts are to no avail ever since I became the shell of the person I was two months ago. I’m physically here on Earth, but my emotions have been hollowed out of my body. There’s a black hole where my soul used to reside, and my spirit is nonexistent.
I forgot what it feels like tolive.
Conversation starts to pick up between the others, and they exchange a couple jokes. I stretch a half-ass smile their way every now and then, trying to save face, but the loudest sound among the chatter is still the clanking pieces of my broken heart. Roaring in my ears as it deafens my other senses.
When I get back to my parent’s house and close the bedroom door behind me, I lean against it and let out a long breath. Tears well up behind my eyes, and I feel a rage start to brew inside me. I lock eyes with a picture frame on my bedroom wall, and look at it like a predator hunting down its prey.
I roll up one sleeve of my hoodie as I walk up to the picture frame, and punch the glass repeatedly, using every ounce of anger I possess to shatter it to pieces. My fist bleeds from the explosive contact, and blood begins to trickle down my hand and forearm. As I watch the bright red lines slide down my arm, it’s like I’m watching some of my fury leave my body, and for a split second I feel relief.
This feels good.
I fall to the ground on my butt, relishing in this newfound satisfaction. My fist is still clenched, so I slowly open it, then gradually close it back up again. I’m savoring every bit of physical pain I feel with each contraction, unexpectedly thankful for this moment.
Thankful that I am able to feel something that can challenge the agony of my broken heart.
~Three Months After~
It’s nine o’clock at night on a Friday, and I’m sitting on my porch as I look over at Aria and Kyle’s house. I start to envision the times I would see them holding hands leaving for a dinner date, or making out on their front porch. Then if I caught them, I’d always chime in with some joke, and we’d all have a good laugh. Man, I miss those days. It’s amazing how before you lose something, you don’t really understand its value until it’s gone. No matter how small.
I miss the small moments.
