“Elijah!”
It sounded like a canon going off inside my head. The sound was too loud after the secluded silence I have enjoyed in the last few hours.
“What on earth have you done?!” Sam yelled as he tried to pick me up from the ground.
“Nothing,” I cried, not being able to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.
“This is not nothing!” Sam yelled again, dragging me away from the closet and toward my bed.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I gasped as I struggled to get the air to my lungs between all the sobs.
“No, it certainly isn’t! It’s worse!”
I could barely think straight, but Sam’s voice was cutting through me like a knife cutting through butter.
“Stop yelling,” I coughed as Sam lifted me onto the bed.
“No! I will not stop yelling! You promised Elijah! You promised!” Sam yelled, close to hysteria. “We can’t keep on doing this. We can’t keep on going back and forth from this place. You made me a promise!”
“Stop yelling…” I muttered. I didn’t feel as hysterical anymore now that Sam was holding me.
“You haven’t taken your pills in weeks, have you?” Sam asked. This time he didn’t yell. I was thankful for that.
“No…”
As I admitted that I have not taken any of my medication for longer than I cared to admit, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the pang of guilt travelling through my body. Sam did not deserve this. Nobody deserved this. Heck, I did not even deserve this. Who wanted to sit with a twenty-something year old that could not even look after himself if his life depended on it? Would it not be better to die? Would it not be better if they all just allowed me to die? Let me rest in peace and once again see Blake?
It’s not that I don’t want to get better, but losing the love of your life has the tendency to fuck one up. Not that I am saying that people can’t get over losing a loved one. It’s just that sometimes you do not have another way out. Sometimes the want to join your other half in the afterlife becomes greater than life itself. It consumes you. Becomes the only thing that you ever think about. Even if it is ten years later.
Then comes the pills. Lots and lots of pills, and countless hours of therapy, where you sit and tell the same story over and over again. It doesn’t help. It never helps. The pills make you too tired to want to do anything. You don’t even have the strength to contemplate suicide. You feel broken, but you are to numb to realize just how broken you are. Because of the pills, you hear what the psychologist is saying, but not a single word actually sticks in your brain. Nothing makes any impression on you.
“Elijah… We have talked about this. You cannot leave your pills. Not ever.”
I could feel Sam’s hand brushing my hair, as his other arm stayed folded around me. I could feel the life starting to seep back into my body. I could actually feel my legs again.
“You don’t get it…” I mumbled.
“No. I don’t.”
It was the first time he had ever told me that. With every single thing I ever went through he would always tell me the same thing; ‘I can imagine how you must be feeling.’ This however was different.
“You don’t?”
I climbed out of Sam’s embrace and sat up on the bed. Taking his face in both my hands, like a lover would embrace their partner. I stared into his eyes for a long time before he finally answered.
“No. I don’t.”
Sam wanted to help me. I could see it in his eyes. Sure, he has always wanted to help me, no matter what. But this was different. He was giving up. I could see it. He could not take it any longer.
“I want to get better,” I whispered. I could feel the stubble of his beard pricking the insides of my hands, but I did not dare to let go. He needed to understand that I was serious. I want to get better. Not for me. Not even for Blake. I want to do it for him. Sam has suffered enough in the last decade. Enough is enough. I could not break him anymore than what I already have.
Sam sighed.
“I wish I could believe you Elijah,” he said as he gently took me by the wrists and moved my hands away from his face. “But let’s be honest. You have said this so many times before… It never changes. You promise things will change. We get you all the help that we can think off. We get you the best medication that money can buy. We get you the best doctors in the country. For god sakes, we have flown you to Edinburgh and back because you believed it would make you better. But somehow we always end up right back here. You sit with months’ worth of your pills, having a nervous breakdown and wanting to commit suicide. I just can’t take it anymore Elijah. I can’t. Michael can’t. Michael wants me to rather just forget about you at this stage. You are putting strain on my relationship with him.”
I could not believe it. I had never heard Sam be this serious. I would never have thought that Michael would be so cruel. Sam was more than just my guardian. He is my friend. The one I can turn to for anything I need. Apart from Lucy and Blake, he is probably the only one that has ever loved me.
“So you want to just throw me away?” I asked. Something inside me was telling me that this was the perfect moment to start crying, but the tears did not want to come.
“No Elijah…”
“Phone Lucy,” I interrupted. “And then… get out of my flat.”
“Elijah… You’re getting this all wrong… Just let me explain…”
“You explained enough.”
“But Elijah…”
“Are you going to call Lucy or not?” I asked as I stood up from the bed and started walking towards the door that led to the very short hallway.
“Just give me a moment to explain,” Sam said. His face was pleading. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.
“I won’t let you stand by and see me destroy myself any longer. You are relieved of your duties. As father, as friend… of everything! Now get the fuck out of my flat!” I screamed. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
“Elijah!”
Sam was yelling again. He came over to me and tried to grab me by the arms, but I could not allow that to happen.
“Get out!” I yelled once more as I showed Sam away from me, making him fall to the ground.
“That’s enough!”
I never heard him come in, but as I swung around, there was Michael, Sam’s life partner standing in my doorway. He stared at me only for a moment, before running to Sam’s aid.
“This has gone on long enough. This is the end of it. He doesn’t want you in his life. He doesn’t want to get better. Now is the time to admit that there is nothing further that we can do to help him,” Michael said to Sam as he helped him up.
“No… He’s just confused… He hasn’t been taking his pills, and…” Sam began to say, but he was quickly interrupted.
“And nothing,” Michael said as he turned around to face me. “I have had enough of all of this Elijah. We are done with the suicides and you not accepting the help we give you. I will not allow you to hurt Sam any more than what you already have. He’s in therapy because of you. Because he feels guilty and responsible for not doing more for you since the first day he met you, but let me tell you now. I love you, just as what he loves you. You were like a child in our house for a very long time, but it stops now. A person can only take so much. I will not watch you destroy yourself any longer, and neither will Sam. I will not allow him to see it. From this moment forward you are on your own. You do not call us. You do not message us. If you are hanging yourself from your curtain rail you do not even think our names, do you understand me? The only way you will ever be allowed back into our lives will be the day that you pull yourself together and start wanting to live life again, making a conscious effort to get better. Until that moment arrives, if ever, you do not come near Sam again.”
I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes. This was not what I wanted to happen. I could not live without Sam and Michael in my life. They are my everything.
“I didn’t mean…” I started, but Michael interrupted again.
“No! You do not get to speak! This decision is final. Lucy told us that everything went so well at the grave today. We expected you to be a bit upset tonight, which is why Sam came to check on you, but clearly this isn’t even about today.”
Michael eyed the pills as he spoke. I could almost see him counting the pills, trying to work out how long I have been without them. Without hesitation he walked over to them and started shoving all the pills that was laying on the floor into his pockets.
“And I am taking these with me. If you want to end your life, you will not do so with the pills that Sam and I paid for. You are on your own.”
Michael walked past me toward the front door.
“Come Sam,” he said as he opened it and stepped out.
“I’m sorry Elijah,” Sam whispered as he gave me a hug that I refused to give back. “Michael is right. I can’t do this anymore. I will however always love you.”
With that he was gone, and I was left standing alone in the doorway of my room, looking towards the front door that might never see Sam or Michael walking through its arch ever again…
I didn’t want to cry anymore. This was what happens when you open your mouth. This is what happens when you finally break the silence. Blake got killed because of it. I lost my mother because I spoke. Now Sam was gone for good because I could not keep silent. They were wrong. You should not listen before you speak. You should not be speaking to begin with.
My hair wasn’t nearly long enough to cover the entire one side of my face, but I knew it would grow back. It never took that long to grow. The problem was eyeliner. I haven’t owned an eyeliner in years.
I hesitated as I looked into the mirror, the black sharpie in my right hand, ready to take the more progressive action that it will ever take in its life.
“There’s no turning back from here,” I said to the reflection looking back at me with pity and nostalgia.
Then I slowly drew the black cross over my lips once more.
“No more speaking,” I muttered and then rested my lips upon one another – my fullest intention to never open them again.
I pulled out my phone and opened the message app.
“Come over. ASAP. Very important. Pack a bag. #Roadtrip. Leaving tonight.”
It took only five minutes for the reply to register on my phone.
“On my way doll. C u in an hour. Fuck you for short notice. I will bring latest Britney CD. #Glory.”
I groaned at the last sentence of the message. It was going to be a long drive.
