Forty-Two.
BEC'S POINT OF VIEW.
I couldn't get the memories of that last night with Benn out of my head. The images haunted my mind, and as much as I tried to block them out, to shake them away, to open my eyes and just run- my body wouldn't move a single bit, and my mind wasn't responding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break out in sobs and just scream until I lost my voice and ran out of tears. But all I saw was flashes. Benn's last words. Waking up to find him lifeless. The cords dangling from the machines. The fluid dripping onto the ground. The deathly silence occupying the room like a giant cloud of smoke, allowing me to hear every drop as it fell into the puddle. Then, darkness. Then, the doctor. The nurse. How calm they were, how quiet. How they acted so cold, their expressions set in stone. Like this was just an everyday thing.
I wanted this to be over. I wanted to wake up and find I'd been dreaming. But as I began to regain feeling in my limbs, I knew this was real. And those images would never leave my mind. The letter flashed in front of my eyes. I remembered every single letter, how his weak hands shaped the words. I was scared, because the sound of his voice, that I could recall so very clearly when I was first reading the letter, was becoming fainter. It had been just a few days, and I was already beginning to forgetting his voice. The idea was scaring me. And the harder I tried to remember it, the fainter it was getting. I remembered what he said, but I couldn't imagine his voice saying anything else anymore. It wasn't his voice reading anymore when I thought of the letter. It was just words seeping through my eyes and burning themselves into the forefront of my mind.
There was a stabbing pain in my stomach, and I felt it cramp. I twitched, and finally managed to open my eyes. I could only see blurs, basic contours of things. I was looking up at a ceiling, and after a moment I realised I was lying down, my head in someone's lap. I turned my head. I recognised you. You were sleeping; your head leaned back against the couch, your mouth open just a little bit. I almost smiled. I could honestly say I'd never needed you more, or been happier to find you with me. As I felt my stomach twist and turn, the pain became agonising. I sat up, and looked around. My vision was clearing up a little, and I spotted a big bowl next to the sofa. Convenient, I thought, just before my stomach decided it wasn't happy with what was in it, and chose to get it out of me.
As I threw myself forward, shut my eyes and just let my body take care of itself, I felt hands in my hair. You pulled it back and away from my face, holding onto it with one hand and softly placing your other around my waist. After what seemed like an eternity of anguish, I felt like I'd lost all my insides. But aside from a searing throat, I felt a lot better. Tired, with sweat on my face, I fell back against the couch. You silently handed me a bottle of water, then got up to get the bowl out. I took a few sips of the water to cool my throat and wash the taste of substances I don't even remember pouring into myself anymore, out. As I blankly stared out the big window, you returned to me and invitingly opened your arms. I sat in your lap as you wrapped your arms tight around me. I saw Benn's letter on the table.
Ordinarily, I would've been angry. Angry at you for touching it- angry at anyone for daring to touch it. It was the last that was left of him. Aside from the necklace, I thought, as I felt the cold ring against my skin. But maybe you having read the letter would make this easier. Maybe I wouldn't even have to speak the words. Maybe I wouldn't have to remind myself, or you, that he was gone, because you knew. No, I wasn't angry. Actually, I didn't feel anything anymore.
"Wow." I whispered.
"What?"
"It's stopped hurting. I finally feel so...so numb. So nothing."
"That's what this was all about?"
"Yeah."
"You're kidding?! You almost killed yourself, just so you could feel 'nothing'?!"
