The Melody of Pip Winter

21: The Promise

Days were like the oceans tide.
Some were good and without recollection and some were scarring and filled with fear. Memories disappeared and reappeared like stars and sleep was a language Pip wasn't fluent in. He had promised to try and sleep each night and that was an extremely difficult task. Every ache was like a withdrawal from ignorance and every tear was evidence of his journey, the slow and painful one. That night he had awoken from a memory he wished he could call a nightmare.

Pip ran his fingers over his arms to check his skin was still intact. His body was layered in rivers of warm water and his lungs pleaded for more air. It was late March and spring had settled in the air. Flowers had bloomed and with them new memories that weren't strong enough to wash away the old ones.

Pip fumbled for his phone among the ripples of sheets and covers. He prodded the screen and brought the device to his ear. Pip had never liked phone calls, they were a catalyst for anxiety, but in that moment he hoped it would be his saviour.

The phone beeped only once before he was met with the sound of Leo's wavering breaths. Sharp blades traveled up Pip's throat, making words even harder to speak.

"Pip." Leo whispered.

They were in the middle of a deep night and realisation dawned on him.

"Sorry." Pip muttered.

He went to hang up but Leo's smooth voice returned to his ears.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked, his voice suddenly cleansed from sleep.

"Just need a distraction." Pip mumbled.

"I'm assuming sleep isn't a good enough distraction."

Pip sat himself up, he leant against the wall and his head dropped.

"Do you have a fun story to tell?" Pip asked in hope of finding something to stray him from his thoughts.

Sound shuffled from the phone.

"When I was five I got locked in a mail box." Leo started to chuckle out.

Pip felt a light force tip toe on his lips and the metal clamps that forced his lips into a flat line disappeared.

"Not one of those small ones, those big red ones on the side of the street." Leo could barely get the words out.

His words were a sponge for the worlds he saw when he slept, the worlds that were truthfully just the one he lived in. Warm drops of honey eased the ruckus in his throat and his mind was filled with Leo's enrapturing smile.

"I was stuck in there for ages, Clarissa didn't find me for hours." His laughter subsided at the presence of an unfamiliar name.

Leo's voice sped into a tightened abyss of dread. Pip wonder if it was better to keep quiet, but he lost against the thump of his own curiosity.

"Who is Clarissa?" He asked.

Leo cleared his throat. The sound crackled into his ear due to the horrifying reception.

"She- umm, she's my mum." Leo choked through the scratchy words.

A pit of tension burrowed through the air and Pip was left with a gaping hole in his mind reserved for worry and confusion. Pip felt his hands tremor with the need to hold the boys hand.

"So what came of this story?" Pip questioned in hope of rendering the somber air.

Leo let out a huff of laughter that seemed more forced than whimsical.

"I read all these letters, being the nosey person I am." His throat produced the most wonderful of notes.

A prickle of amusement secured him but the faint sound of sorrow bled from the seemingly jubilant words.