my brothers girlfriend

enough is enough

TWENTY-EIGHT - LISA

For a while after having my heart broken, I hibernate in my bed, only leaving for the bathroom or picking up deliveries at the door if my mum wasn't around to do it for me. I cope through bitter spirits, cheap pot and greasy takeout food, spending the days high and the nights drunk, every single second aching for Jennie to hold me in her arms. 

She calls every day. She also messages, emails and tries to get through to me on every single social media platform. Eventually, I find the strength to block her number and accounts because staring at the phone and finding the will to not answer gets harder each time. It's too little avail though, she just makes new accounts. 

Rosie calls too. For the first few days I don't answer, but when she sends me a lengthy text telling me how worried she is, I shoot back a message to let her know I'm fine. It holds for a few more days before she shows up at my house. 

The knocking on the door was persistent, and I almost ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But Rosie's voice reached me even through the door.

"Lisa, open up. I know you're in there."

I groan and mumble incoherently in response, dipping my head beneath the sheets and pulling them tight around me. I hear my door swing open and Rosie lets me know immediately she is disgusted. I can only imagine her face as she catches a whiff of my room where all good things come to die before she makes a noise that reflects her disgust. 

"God, Lisa, this..." She doesn't finish her sentence. I hear her light steps across my floor then the curtains move before the windows are opened. I stay in the safety of my cocoon whilst listening to Rosie scatter about my room and tend to it before she turns her attention to me.

I should have anticipated it from the few seconds of silence where bottles and boxes are no longer being bagged. I could have tightened my enclosure and gripped onto it for dear life, but it is ripped away from me before I can even process it. I let out an unfamiliar cry when it happens, overstimulated by the new brightness and chill. Before I can voice my complains, Rosie's hand is on my back, rubbing it and whispering words of comfort to me. 

I want to be mad. I am mad, but not at Rosie. Not really. Even my own family hadn't tried so hard to save me from myself or even bothered to see that something was clearly not right with me. I couldn't be mad at them either though, really. I had always closed off when I was hurt and dealt with it myself rather than speaking to them. I preferred it this way. But still, Rosie was here and helping me whether I liked it or not. So I couldn't be mad at her. 

I could be mad at Jennie though. 

Rosie convinced and prodded me into the bathroom. It took all my remaining willpower to undress and step into the shower. The warm water cascaded over me, its soothing embrace contrasting with the turmoil inside my heart.

It was during that shower, as I let the water cleanse my body, that I vowed to start healing. For myself, for Rosie, and even in my own way, for Jennie. I wasn't ready to confront my emotions, but I couldn't let them consume me any longer.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Rosie had set out fresh clothes for me. I dressed, slowly regaining some sense of self-care that had been absent for far too long. Rosie had changed my sheets, removed the takeout containers, and even lit a candle that dispelled the lingering smell of my despair.

"Hey," she turned to look at me from where she sat on my bed.

I managed a weak smile, my heart heavy but slightly less burdened. "Thanks, Rosie."

"No problem," she said, flashing me a warm smile. "Real friends clean each other's depression pits, right?"

I nodded, appreciating her humour and understanding. Rosie wasn't just a friend; she was a lifeline that had pulled me back from the edge.

"Now, finish getting ready," she urged, pulling me toward the mirror. "We're going out."

I sighed but didn't argue. Rosie had already done so much for me; I could at least make this effort for her.

"Where are we going?" I asked, still feeling a twinge of reluctance.

"Anywhere, just as long as I get you out of this house," she replied, a determined gleam in her eyes.

With Rosie's persistent support, I found myself getting ready to venture out of my house for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It wasn't that I was ready to face the world or that I had any enthusiasm for the outing, but Rosie's unwavering determination was infectious, and I was willing to give it a try for her.

As I dressed in clean clothes, the weight of the previous days began to lift slightly. The numbness that had enveloped me started to recede, allowing faint traces of emotion to resurface. Though I was far from healed, I knew that this step was necessary.

Despite my reservations, I nodded in response to Rosie's words. "Anywhere, just as long as I get you out of this house," she had said. I couldn't argue with her logic. Staying cooped up in my room was doing me no favours.

As I finished getting ready, we left the house, the bright sunlight forcing me to squint and adjust to the outside world. The streets felt foreign and bustling, a stark contrast to the stagnant air of my room. I took hesitant steps, my limbs feeling heavy and my chest constricted with anxiety.

Rosie led the way, her hand on my shoulder, her presence reassuring. We hailed a cab, and soon we were on our way to an undisclosed destination.

"Where are we going, Rosie?" I couldn't help but ask as my curiosity piqued, even as I struggled with my own apprehension.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We're going to do something fun, Lisa, something to help you take your mind off everything, even if it's just for a little while."

"Fun?" I whispered, as if the word was a distant memory. The concept seemed alien to me, like a language I had forgotten how to speak. 

Rosie's determination was unwavering. She was on a mission to rescue me from my self-imposed isolation, and I was slowly letting her guide me back to life. The outing might be a small step, but it was a step nonetheless.