Nineteen.
I was worried when I woke up and couldn't feel my arm anymore. I tried to figure it out without opening my eyes, and that bit of thinking created a throbbing pain in my head. I tried to open my eyes.
"Oh dear God..." I groaned.
The room seemed awfully bright, even though it was overcast outside. Where the heck was I? And why, why, why couldn't I feel my freakin' arm? I turned my head to the side to find a chunky, five foot eleven, football-player-turned-gardener lying on it. Well that explained that. He wasn't exactly light...
"Benn," I nudged him because pulling my arm out sounded a lot easier than it was.
"What?" he mumbled in his sleep.
"Wake up. You need to get off my arm."
He rolled off my arm- and over the edge. I heard a thump on the ground, and some cursing by Benn. So apparently we were in a bed. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard. I looked around, slowly turning my head, afraid of dislocating my very stiff neck. There were no clothes on the floor. I looked down. There were clothes there. Very good. As I began to wake up, I recognised this to be Kayla's house. Couldn't really tell which bedroom though, everything was still too blurry for that.
Benn and I dragged ourselves out of bed - well, Benn dragged himself off the floor and I rolled out of bed- and took a wander to the kitchen to get water. The living room and kitchen were a mess. There were too many empty bottles for my aching head to count. There were people everywhere- on the couch, on the rug in front of the couch, on the sun lounges on the veranda, and I think I spotted two people in the grass. No clue how they didn't freeze- then again, pour enough liquor into someone and they'll survive the North Pole, I guess. There were a few others wandering and stumbling around the place.
As most people here, I'd drunk way too much. A bottle of vodka by myself- and that's just what I could remember. Dying seemed pretty appealing that morning. At least I knew I'd be fine again by the afternoon. I guess that's the good thing about starting to drink when you're barely fourteen- you develop a certain tolerance towards large amount of alcohol, and it takes you less and less time to get over hangovers. But the morning after would always be a shocker.
I seemed to get it a lot worse than a lot of others- not in terms of how long it took me to be normal again, but how bad I'd feel the morning after. I never felt steady on my feet. Numerous mornings I'd wake up, and faint right back into bed. And I'd never just get a headache- it'd be my whole body, especially somewhere deep in my gut. It was weird. I figured it'd go away when I got older, and got more used to the alcohol. But it never really did get better. As I got older though, maybe sixteen, I started to sometimes think about getting that checked out. I just never got around to it though, I guess. I wondered whether it had anything to do with my ending up in hospital in spring, back when I first met you. I quickly dismissed the thought. I couldn't deal with something else right now too. I just couldn't. The pain got too much, and I excused myself to the bathroom to throw up.
We left pretty soon. Both of us felt better about being hung over at home. And I had to go to school tomorrow. We got to Benn's, took some aspirin, and slept until mid-afternoon. Benn, as usual, would need the rest of the day to recover from last night. He only briefly woke up to kiss me goodbye- he couldn't even manage to walk himself to the door with me. I picked my stuff up from around the place, took a deep breath and walked home. Or whatever I was supposed to call it now.
I spent a good half hour trying to find the spare key. I hadn't used it in so long that I'd forgotten where it was - but I'd left my keys on the counter when I left. I didn't have any intentions of returning when I left for the city. Eventually, I found the fake pebble in the flowerbed next to the doorstep. I was yet to find out where the hell Dad and or Kate got the fake pebble from- and more importantly, why they didn't just put the key in or under one of the terracotta pots around the place, or somewhere in or underneath the weird Buddha statue next to the front door. I shook my head, as I let myself in.
Kate and Dad weren't home, which I probably should've gathered earlier, because when I looked outside there wasn't a car in the drive. Everything was spotless, to my surprise. Did we have a housekeeper all this time, and I never knew? I spotted a piece of paper and a post-it note on the counter. The post-it explained how clean the house was- they'd temporarily hired a housekeeper. The other note was handwritten, in surprisingly neat cursive. Kate's.
"Dear Bec,
I know you're a smart girl, and will eventually come to your senses and come home. I don't intend to be here when that happens, which is why I'm leaving this. I know you'll probably never want to speak to me again, but you should know that what happened with your mum, your dad and I, is not what you think. Not at all.
We shared some good times Bec, and it kills me that I've ruined that, because I know I'll probably never be able to win you over again. Hell, it took me five years to do it the first time. In five years from now, you'll be off living your own life- probably still resenting me, and your father.
I left you one of your father's credit cards, so you can take care of yourself while you're back home. You'll have to talk to him about this sometime though; you can't just cut him out of your life completely. Especially not when you don't know the whole truth yet.
I'm sorry, Bec.
Kate."
Sure enough, next to the letter there was an envelope with a credit card and a little note with the PIN number. Signed "Dad". He was never one for big words or long talks- or notes for that matter. I felt faint again, and lay down on the couch.
&&&.
It was dark when I woke up. I ate, and went up into my room to sit in my window frame. I leaned my head against the cold glass, and stared up into the sky. The moon lit up the blossoms and the ripening fruit of the cherry tree. I dreamt of sitting on a branch with you once the cherries were good to eat. Benn and I used to do that, when we were younger. Back in the days of our innocent childhoods. But Benn wasn't part of my dreams anymore. He wasn't part of my future anymore. I had to move on. Move on from here, and move on from Benn. He'd changed too much, and I guess, in a way, so had I.
I missed you. A lot. I knew Dad and Kate would be home at one stage or another, and it scared me to face them without you there to hold my hand, and tell me that I'll be okay. People told me that all the time. They told me when Mum left. But when you said it, I actually bought it. And generally, I'd actually be okay- and if it was just for a moment.
I thought about Mum. And Dad. And Kate. I stared into the moon.
"I forgive you Mum." I heard myself whisper.
My bottom lip trembled, as tears started falling down my face. Eventually, it got too much, and I felt my eyes fall shut as I hugged my legs to my chest.
"And I love you." I mouthed, as my voice gave in, and I fell asleep in the window frame.
&&&.
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Peace, love.
Alex.
