SWIM // MITCHEL CAVE

(II) 19- stars

Mitchel's POV

We were finally back in LA after spending just under a month in Australia. I was relieved to get back out here, I stayed home because Jaz told me I should and we needed to be together as a family but it was driving me crazy. Being in the house that no longer held the same atmosphere, it was overwhelming and made me feel trapped, it was hard to breathe.

Being back gave me a chance to take that much needed space for my head and emotions which were becoming overbearing lately. Jaz said it got easier but it was only getting worse, every day I became more consumed by dark thoughts that were slowly winning.

My mind was itching for comfort, something that the hard liquor downstairs can't ease. We'd been back for around 3 days and every night I snuck down while Jaz slept to take secret swigs from the bottles in the cabinet. I didn't want to drink around her because the last thing I needed was her to give me a lecture on it.

So I would sit there in the early hours of the morning when the house was silent, the only noise coming from the clock. I sit at the kitchen table silently drinking from the bottle, not bothering to dirty a glass. I'd sit for maybe twenty or so minutes just letting the liquid burn my throat. It gave me some temporary relief but never enough. I needed more, something harder.

I would brush my teeth so Jaz wouldn't be able to smell the alcohol on my breath and crawl back into bed before she's able to notice my absence.

So here I was, another night spent at the table. The clock read 2:40am. Hours didn't even feel real anymore, days just bled into eachother and time wasn't important. I bring the bottle to my lips tipping my head back, it was just what I needed.

I didn't want to be like this, I didnt want to have to sneak down here every night just to get some sense of comfort. I just wanted to be okay again but I don't think I ever will be, no properly.

"Straight from the bottle huh?"

I jump at the voice standing in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching my chest in shock of anyone being awake. Clinton gives me a small smile, one of pity; one I didn't need.

"Why are you awake?" I ask dryly.

"Why are you?" He asks "What are you doing Mitchel?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I reply.

Another swig. My head felt lighter but my thoughts were still as heavy. That was something I couldn't lighten, couldn't make go away.

"Mum would hate to see you like this" He sighs.

"Don't" I warn.

"You need help Mitchel" He says softly "And that's okay"

"I don't need anything, I'm fine" I say firmly.

"Keep telling yourself that all you want but you know I'm right" He shrugs.

"Can I just be alone?" I say.

He lets out a sigh as if he had something else to say but dropped it in favour of respecting my wishes. I knew his words were right but I just couldn't seem to kick my old ways. I knew the relief and I craved it and it was a feeling I know no therapy group or counsellor would be able to provide.

"Go to bed Mitchel" He says before turning around and walking back to his room.

I listen carefully waiting to hear the click of his door and when I do, I bring the bottle back to my lips. I didn't need anyone telling me what to do, especially not my brother. Wasn't he hurting too? Wasn't this tearing him to pieces like me?

I look out the window and I could see faint trails of stars in the sky, something you couldn't always see from the bright lights of the city. They were scattered like freckles on a face; messy and beautiful.

My mother loved to look at the stars, she said it was something in the way they remained shining even though they were long gone. Sometimes at night I would find her out in the back sitting on the step by the door looking up admiring them.

"Come sit" She would say.

And so I would. I would sit with her and mostly we didn't speak, we just soundlessly stared up at the sky together. She would always find the biggest ones, the ones that shone the brightest and point them out with her finger.

"That's you" She would say before pointing out another two for Clinton and Taylor.

I get up and close the curtain. I didn't want to look at the stars anymore.

I screw the cap back on the bottle again and carefully place it back into the cabinet careful not to make too much noise. The clock now read 3am and I knew I should be getting back upstairs.

I take a quick detour to the bathroom and I brush my teeth to get rid of any smell of the whisky off my breath. I wipe my mouth, scowling at the bitter taste of the toothpaste combined with the lingering whisky taste on my tongue. I finish up and I avoid the mirror, not caring to see the reflection that would no doubt make me feel worse. Jaz wouldn't stop commenting on how tired I looked, she insisted we take naps so she knew I was getting enough sleep and while her intentions were nice, I just spent the full time rubbing her back waiting for her to wake up again.

I open and close the door as careful as I can and tiptoe back to the bed thankful to still see Jaz sound asleep in the position as when I'd left. I crawl back in, the bed sipping where I now lay causing her to stir making me hold my breath.

"Mitchel?" She asks.

"Shhh" I coo stroking her hair.

My attempt to help her pass over again fails as she now turns her body to me, her eyes wide and looking up at me with concern.

"Are you okay?" She whispers sleepily.

"Yes baby" I say "Go back to sleep"

She doesn't listen to me and instead pulls her body up slightly so our faces were now close, her hand traces under my eyes mentally noting of the dark bags underneath them.

"Why won't you sleep?" She hums caressing my face.

"I'm not tired" I say simply.

I know she doesn't believe it for a second as she removes her hand and stares at me intently.

"You're exhausted" She sighs.

I don't say anything back because I simply don't know how to respond. She was right. I was exhausted yet every time my face hit the pillow, my mind went into overload of thoughts and feelings.

She peppers soft kisses along my jaw working their way closer to my mouth but not touching. I watch her and let her do so knowing this was her way of trying to comfort me, her soft lips easing my worried mind.

I gently take her face in mine pulling her up and against my lips this time and she kisses back, it starts off soft and sweet; the kind you see in those teenage romance films. And then it builds, it becomes more desperate and needy, needing air in between was becoming an inconvenience.

I pull her up so she was in a straddle position and I was able to kiss her easier, deepening it even more. This was the most we had done since before the break up. We only ever kissed lightly here or there and cuddled, just craving the closeness. This was different, this was much more intimate and I needed more.

I pull off my shirt and she follows my actions and I I run my hands down her sides, admiring the feeling of her soft skin in my calloused hands. Her eyes locked with mine, neither of us having to say anything but we both knew exactly where this was going.

"Help me feel something" I beg.

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Guess who's back