Untitled (As of Yet)

1.

"Why can't you see he's killing himself? You're supposed to be brothers; you're supposed to keep each other safe. Yeah, he's fucked up. Believe me, I know how badly he has fucked this entire situation up, and I know how nice it must be to just walk away and not give a fuck anymore, but I don't have that option. I wake up everyday with this sitting on my chest...crushing down on me, and I can't do it alone anymore. So, you're pissed at him; get the fuck over it. Because he's not going to be here much longer and you're going to have to live with this, whether you want to or not."

The condensation was dripping off the glass I was squeezing in my hand and landing in innocent droplets on the scuffed up wooden floor. I watched those drops settle into a puddle, trying to hold back my tears.

I can't do this anymore.

Drew was nervously leaned up against the wall staring at his feet with his hands behind his back. He wouldn't look me in the eye. I could feel the anger welling up inside of me like an angry tidal wave and it was only a matter of time before it spilled forth. I have to get out of here. Chris was sitting at the computer, facing away from me, trying to pretend like he wasn't listening.

Fuck you, Chris.

I flung the glass as hard as I could against the wall past the computer. Chris tumbled backwards out of his chair and started to stumble over his words. When it broke into a hundred pieces, Drew finally jumped. He stared up into my cloudy black eyes with a look of desperate shock and anger.

Finally; look at me.
See me standing here, with my heart on my sleeve, begging you to just let go of the past and help me.

I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't feel vindicated or relieved and I was losing my ground.

Get out of there.
Go.

I ran out the door into the pulsating sun, the dried up earth crunching angrily under my feet, desperate to get out of that house. My head was spinning with rage, and sadness and loss, and I felt like at any moment I may stop breathing. I didn't see the root jutting out from the crusty dirt and tumbled to the ground in the front yard. I let out an anguished moan as the tears began to stream down my face. I knew they were watching me from the window, curious if they should come out and help me or if they should leave me be.

Get up, Kate.
Do it.
Stand up.
Get to the car.

I can't. I slouched down into the brown grass and put my hands over my ears. There were two children in the yard two houses away, yelling and laughing, blissfully unaware that my entire world was crumbling. The door opened behind me and I heard his soft whispers telling me it was going to be ok. The mascara was smudged down my face now and plopping on my shirt like black chubby worms.

"Come on, Kate. Get up."

I won't, couldn't, wouldn't.
I can't keep going.

I was going to lay in that yard, covered in dirt and grass, in my wrinkled skirt and my blackened t-shirt, with my hands over my ears until the sun went down, and the earth went quiet and I was going to keep right on laying there until my heart stopped beating, and the tears dried up. I felt the warmth of his hand on my bare knee.

"Don't do this."

I couldn't bear to look at him, at those eyes, who I knew were no longer angry. I picked my head up off the ground and looked at him through my hands. He was frowning down on me, his hair out of place, and his eyes sunken and tired. He was using the thumb of his free hand to twirl his wedding ring around in a circle; a nervous habit. He did it at the wedding reception when Erin's family tried to make small talk. But that was eight years ago, and a different time, with different people. That was before everything fell apart.

"I'm sitting in that house and watching him die, Drew. And it's killing me."

I felt his other hand slide under my waist and let him pull me up from the ground. He pulled me close against his chest and brushed his hand through my hair. I felt safe there standing with him and for a moment if I closed my eyes hard enough, I could pretend for one sacred minute that none of this had happened, and that things were back they way they had been for all those years before, when we were still a family. I pulled away slightly and Drew gently turned me towards the porch. Chris was standing there, with his hands in his pockets and his brow furrowed. I could tell he didn't know what to do, or how he was supposed to respond. He was the angriest of them all and it had driven a wedge between us that I didn't know how to unhinge. When we got to the base of the steps, he reluctantly held out his right hand and I pressed my palm to his. Next to me, I heard the melodic tinkling of a cell phone and Drew stopped and took two steps backwards.

"Hey. Yeah, she's still here. I know. I KNOW. Just get here, she needs you."

He slipped the phone back in his pocket. Drew turned to look at me and let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair, and turned his gaze back out towards the street. The kids were gone now, their laughter silenced. He dug the toe of his boot in the grass and observed the lifeless clump that came loose. Time to face the truth, he sighed again, and turned to walk back into the house.

2.

I sat on the sofa and fingered the hem of my skirt absent mindedly. There was a mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of me and I stared at it, with my mind empty and my heart heavy. I tried to focus on the steam rolling off the top, getting lost in the air surrounding us and then disappearing. I could see Chris past the mug, slumped back on the sofa across from me, watching me in silence. He looked like shit. We all looked like shit. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to count to one hundred, a trick I had been using lately to keep my emotions under control at home.

That's enough crying, Kate.
It's enough.

Chris scratched his eyebrow and cradled his face in his hand for a moment and then turned his attention to the front window. A black car had just pulled half-cocked into the driveway and a small figure was scrambling out.

"Erin's home."

He got up and walked around the sofa, trying to avoid looking at me and left the room. I stared at the floor, suddenly ashamed to be here, suddenly feeling utterly foolish for the scene I made and for inserting my bullshit into their lives. The door swung open and slammed against the wall behind it. Erin threw her bag on the ground and pushed her sunglasses up off of her eyes. She stopped in her tracks and looked at me, sadness welling up in her features, and Drew stooped down to kiss her on the forehead. They began whispering to each other too low for me to hear. I don't think I wanted to. I kept my attention focused steadily on that mug of tea. I could hear drawers getting slammed in the other room.

Chris hates me.

My mind conjured up dusty memories of the past; of sunny afternoons in the backyard, cold beer, laughter, playful insults being flung. Those days were like brightly saturated photographs that had been left out in the sun and the corners were starting to curl up and the faces had begun to fade.

Erin sat down next to me on the edge of the sofa and turned towards me. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't see that half concerned, half uncomfortable face she always made when she knew I was in pain but didn't know how to act. Erin had always been the stoic one and I was the baby. She put her hand lightly on top of mine.

"It's getting worse?"

I shook my head silently and looked at her fingers on top of mine, with her chipped blue nail polish and scattered ink stains. She let out a sigh and looked over at Drew, who had positioned himself against the arm of the sofa. He gave her a small sad smile.

"This is totally fucked up."

I shook my head again in agreeance with her and finally looked up at her face. She had a slight sunglasses tan on the side of her face and I let out a soft laugh.

"You know I love you, right, Ri?"
"The same, kid. The same."

She never said I love you. Even when she said it to Drew, it came out in soft, barely audible tones, like a small child whispering to a teddy bear. I lay back against the sofa and wiped the make up from underneath my baggy eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

"Where's Chris?"

She looked around the room and I pointed towards the kitchen.

"He's in there somewhere. He's fucking...angry at me."
"Why?"
"You mean, beyond the obvious? Beyond the fact that I came over here in a rage and accused him of being a soul less piece of shit who would rather watch his best friend die then man up and forgive him?"
"...Yes, beyond that."
"I threw a glass and made it rain shards of glass all over his dirty mullet."

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye as she furrowed her brow at the helter skelter blood splatter of glass chunks on the floor by the computer. She scrunched her mouth up into an awkward O and then looked towards the kitchen.

"I think I broke one of your Star Wars glasses."
"A fallen comrade. A victim of war. Unspeakable."

She looked over at me and smiled. I sighed and laughed at the same time and for a moment, I started to feel better about having come. Then I felt the angry vibrations radiating from my skirt pocket as my phone began to ring wildly. The smile fell off my face and I looked down at my hands. I heaved my shoulders and dug the phone out of my pocket and eyed the screen.

"It's him."

Erin looked at the phone like it might detonate if we didn't answer it and then looked at Drew. He leaned over and pulled the phone from my hands.

"Drew...don't..."

But he wasn't listening to me. He squeezed the still ringing phone in one hand, wrinkled his face up and took a deep breath. Then with closed eyes, he hit the flashing green light.

"James? It's Drew."

3.

I met him ten years ago. I was only 22 but I wasn't some naive inexperienced child. I had gone through hell and came out swinging and was ready to take life by the balls. Erin and I had just gotten our first apartment in a shady part of Los Angeles and had walked to a nearby 7-11 to buy marshmallows and bubble gum vodka, and there he was, peering into the beer case on his cell phone. It was like a scene out of a bad fan fiction Erin would have written when we were kids. His hair was askew, his pants were too tight, and his voice was grating and obnoxious. Was this really the man of all my girlish fantasies, brought to the harsh light of real life, right before my very eyes?

He was a singer, you see, in a band that Erin and I had worshiped. We knew every beat of every track and every curve of every mascaraed lash. They hadn't put any music out in a while, but were supposedly recording a new album. Erin and I secretly feared it would be horrible and that would be the end, but we kept hoping they'd get their shit together again.

He was so tall, craning really, over the aisle and I was frozen. I stood there, next to some overpriced boxes of cereal and stared at him like a deer in the headlights. Erin hadn't noticed him yet because she had her face in the chips and was rambling on to me about her sewing machine. I elbowed her hard in the side.

"What the fuck!"

Erin rubbed her side and gave me a pissy look but still didn't notice the giant six feet away. But her squeal had gotten his attention; he looked over at her and then looked back at the cooler.

He didn't even see me. I glared at Erin for ruining my chance of landing the man of my dreams and let out a sigh.

Fuck it.

I left her at the chips and stealthily attempted to inch past his towering frame in order to get to the hard liquor in the cooler two feet away from where he was. I looked up into the case, scrutinizing the bottles, trying to act nonchalant. My heart was beating out of control and I could smell his cologne, his hair, his clothes. His voice was grating but he was still beautiful. Maybe a little too thin, but it was still him alright. I peeked over at him out of the corner of my eye and noticed he was looking at me. I turned my head and looked up into his brown eyes innocently and he lowered his cell phone slightly. He smiled at me and I could feel the heat spreading from my chest to my face. He reached over and pushed the cooler door open for me, and I smiled shyly at my feet, grabbed the bottle, and booked it out of the aisle as fast as I could. I heard him let out a laugh and say something to whoever he was on the phone with. I found Erin in the condom aisle and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Let's go."
"What? I haven't got the marshmallows yet!"
"How fucking old are we? We don't need 'em, let's just go!"
"I did not walk three blocks through the hood to just not get the fucking marshmallows, Kate."
"Ok. A, you're an idiot. B, do you realize that James Stone is standing in the fucking cooler aisle right now?"
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Holy fuck...Hey...I wonder if Drew Tilliman is here...."
"Oh Jesus Christ, Erin. It's not like the travel in a pack!"

But she was gone. She was on her tip toes peering over the shelf, trying to see out the darkened windows to the parking lot. I rolled my eyes and trudged over to her.

"Dude, I think he’s out there..."
"You're delusional. Can we go? I seriously...made an ass out myself. He's laughing at me. And if he sees you creepering over the condoms at his car, he's going to be laughing at you too."

I pulled her through the store and put the bottle on the counter, smiling at the cashier. Erin leaned up against the counter and eyed the kid.

"Hey! Where are you hiding the marshmallows in this bitch?!"

The kid smirked at her and I could feel the redness returning to my cheeks. And then, as if they descended from the Heavens, a bag of marshmallows landed on the counter in front of me with a plop. I looked over my shoulder and there he was again.

"I think this is what you're looking for."

He was smiling at me again. He was so hot and I was so not, and I could feel my brain cells beginning to melt. I tried to smile at him and say thank you, but it came out too quiet and he started to laugh again. I looked over at Erin, who had lost all of her obnoxious bravado and was staring up at him with her mouth hanging open. He looked at her and blinked a few times.

"Um...I'm James. But I have a feeling you already know that."

Erin and I nodded in unison as he pulled out his wallet.

"I got their stuff," he said while handing the cashier his credit card. I elbowed Erin and she gasped and looked at me, mouthing the words "what". I pulled her a few steps away from the register and whispered in her ear.

"Close your fucking mouth, you look like you're retarded!"
"Fuck you, that's James Stone!"
"I know it is!"
"He's buying us marshmallows. This is fucking weird, man."
"I. Know."

He turned to look at us and we smiled nonchalantly. As soon as he turned away, we looked at each other again.

"What do we do??"
"I don't fucking know! Say thank you?"

He finished up with the cashier and turned to us, handing off the bag of vodka and marshmallows.

"Oh, um. Thanks. Thank you, I mean. You didn't have to do that," my voice was shaking. I was so smooth.

"Hey, it's no big deal. I'll walk you guys out."

I smiled at him shyly again and then began walking towards the door next to him, with Erin slightly behind us, trying to peer past him through the door, silently hoping and praying he wasn't alone. We walked out into that crisp fall air and I stopped short when I saw that not only was he not alone, but both his bassist Chris Delmar and Drew were with him. Erin ran into my back and gasped. I turned to look at her and all the colour had drained from her face.

"Jesus, James, what the fuck took you so long?' Chris quipped. Drew was busy texting someone on his phone, the overheard lamps bouncing off of his chipped black nail polish.

"I made some new friends," James pointed towards us with his thumb while passing off a case of beer to Chris and winking.
"I can...see that." he smiled at us creepily.

Erin had shoved her hand in my hoodie pocket and was tapping me repeatedly on the stomach, her eyes wide.

"That’s....Drew...Tilliman... That's..."
"Yeah, I know."
"But...that's..."
"Be cool!"
"Be cool? Really."
"I hate you."

The guys were looking at us and we were staring back at them and we didn't know what we were supposed to do next. I started walking away slowly with the bag, leaving Erin standing there agape.

"Well, thanks again, James," I squeaked out as I hit the side walk. Erin wasn't budging. We looked like idiots.
"Hey, not so fast! I didn't even get your name." He was leaning up against the side of his car nonchalantly.
"Her name is Kate. Katie. Katherine, really. I'm Erin. Hi."

Drew finally looked up from his phone and smiled shyly. He nodded his head in my general direction and then looked at Erin. He gave her a small wave, and then fixed his gaze on her feet. She slowly turned her head to look at me and ever so slightly nodded her head, as if to say, get the fuck back over here. I sighed and started walking back towards her, clumsily stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk and stopping myself just in time from falling on my face.

Great.

James pulled a beer out of the case and cracked it open.

"Well, like I said before, I'm James. This goofy eyed mother fucker is Chris, and that charming Lothario is Drew. We're just going to go back to Chris's place and have some drinks. You girls interested? You can bring your marshmallows." He let out a loud obnoxious laugh and Erin inched backwards towards me.

"What do you think," I mumbled to her.
"What do you mean, what do I think?"
"I mean, what do you think, as in do you think we should go?"
"Gee, I don't know, should we pull ourselves away from playing chubby bunny and watching Sailor Moon on VHS in order to go and have some beers with the hottest rock band on the planet?"

She walked over to the car and smiled.

"Let’s go!"

Chris opened the back door for her and she climbed in. He climbed in after her as Drew opened the door on the opposite side and shot James a nervous look. He just laughed as he walked over to the passenger side and opened the door, gazing at me from across the parking lot.

"So. Are you coming?"

I looked down at my beat up black Chuck Taylor’s, my ugly black tights and my ridiculous Dolphin Safe Tuna t-shirt, and then back at him. I could see Erin peering at me from the back seat with a giant smile on her face. I looked at James hand on the car door and followed it up his slender arm to his shoulder and bit my lip as I rested on his lips and then his eyes.

Get in that fucking car, Kate. Now.

4.

My eyes fluttered open. Drew had left the room with my cell phone and Erin was pacing behind the sofa nervously.

"Hey, there you are."
"Ugh. What's going on?"
"You passed out."
"Where's Drew?"
"He's out back talking to Chris."
"Did he actually talk to James?"
"Yeah, he didn't say much, just told him that you were here and upset and that he needed to get his shit together."
"Oh, Jesus, I am going to be in so much trouble when I get home."
"Drew told him to take a shower and sleep it off, because you probably weren't coming home tonight."

My head was pounding and I had the first rumblings of nausea in my stomach. The sun was settling on its haunches in the sky and the world had started to spin at a slightly slower speed as families were sitting down to their dinner tables to say their prayers. Their lives are so normal, and here I sat, on my best friends couch covered in dirt, her husband on my phone with my husband saying who knows what, the best man from our wedding sulking in the kitchen, a five year old daughter 500 miles away at camp swept up in her own little dream world with a drug addict at home probably breaking our furniture. Was this what my life had come to? I was tired. I wanted to take a shower. I wanted to eat. More than anything I wanted to be able to go home and see my James, not the angry skeleton who was fucked up all the time.

"No, I should go home, Ri. I have things I need to get done in the morning. Besides, I can't hide from this; it's going to be there waiting for me just as easily in the morning as it will be tonight."

Erin frowned and told me she understood.

5.

The house was dark as I pulled the car into driveway and turned off the lights. I looked up at it through the dusty windshield and sighed deeply. When we bought the house it was supposed to be our safe place, where we could get away from the rest of the world, and get tangled up in each other and never have to waste one moment caring what was going on in the outside world. Lately, it had a dark cloud constantly hanging over it and my stomach filled with dread and my mouth with acid as I walked up the front steps, digging my keys out of my bag. I fumbled with the lock for a moment before pushing the heavy oak door open and dropping my stuff on the table inside. I locked the door behind me and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to let Erin know I had made it home.

As I watched the tiny envelope depart from my screen, I heard muffled music drift down the stairs beside me. I dropped the phone in my purse, pulled off my shoes, and began the treacherous ascent to our bedroom. I pulled my cardigan off as I went and deposited it on the railing at the top of the stairs. Tiptoeing, I walked to the end of the hall and pressed my ear against our bedroom door. The light tinkling sounds of something met me but it was too low to be able to make out what it was. There was a soft blue light peeking its way out from under the doorway. He probably passed out with the TV on again, I thought to myself. I crept back down the hall, not yet ready to face whatever state he would be in, and stopped at the baby pink door, pushing it open and gazing into the darkness. I let my eyes adjust and made out the familiar shapes of the giant soft giraffe, the miniature sized vanity table and the fluttering tulle along the canopy crinkling in the breeze from the ceiling fan.

I walked into the sweet smelling room and sat down on the fluffy bed and picked up the white teddy bear happily leaned against the pillows. I pressed it to my face and let the light powdery smell of my daughters’ skin fill my senses and began to cry again. I sat the bear in my lap and smoothed its hair, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. I missed her chubby little hands but was glad she was away for most of the summer at camp, being a kid, and not here witnessing her father falling apart. I took a deep breathe and put the bear back, standing up to leave the room. I crept back down the hallway and placed my ear against the door once more; no change. I turned the handle slowly and peeked through the crack. He was lying on his side; his now gaunt frame curled up in a ball in our bed, his hair sticking out, and was actually wearing pajamas. I breathed a sign of relief and inched in the door, shutting it softly behind me.

I walked silently into the adjoining bathroom and stripped my dirty wrinkled clothes off, peering at myself in the mirror. I took a quick shower, letting the hot water wash away the remains of the day, the smeared make up, the grass, the heaviness in my chest lifting slowly. I stepped out and wrapped myself in a black towel and put lotion on my face. I turned off the lights and walked into the closet, grabbing a pair of faded pajama shorts and a tank top. Every ounce of my being was exhausted and I thanked God for not coming home to James passed out in his own vomit, wearing his street clothes, in a heap on the floor next to our bed, as he usually was.

I slipped back into the bedroom and looked at this overgrown man child asleep in our bed. I found the remote sitting on the nightstand and went to click the TV off when I noticed what he was watching. It was a video of us, standing in the rain in the backyard, laughing about something, except the frame was sideways and we were bouncing in and out of view. You could hear the person holding the camera laughing and taunting us to take it off. I strained to think of where this video was from, or from when in our tangled once happy past.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and turned my head sideways, watching the two strangers gaze into each others eyes and laugh. I put my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. It was after we got married, when we first bought the house. We tried to have a backyard barbecue but it started to storm heavily, a virtual non occurrence in LA, so everyone fled into the back porch and I tried to get away, but James had grabbed me and picked me up, laughing and kissing me. I opened my eyes again and watched as the stranger on the screen wiped the make up away from my soaked face and kissed my eyelids.

Chris taped this. He had the camera in his hand, but didn't realize it was on. That's why the frame was so out of focus.

I clicked the TV off, blacking out the screen as quickly as I tried to black out the memories from my mind. I was too tired to ruminate on the past. I heard James shifting behind me in the bed. I sat at the edge of the bed for a few moments with my eyes closed, my bones creaking under my flesh, and I felt his hands on my shoulders.

My eyes shot open and I stared out into the darkness, waiting for what he would do next. I just wanted to slip under the covers and fall asleep, deal with all of this mess in the morning, but a part of me still craved the touch of his fingers on my skin and the sound of his hushed breathe in my ear. He slid one hand down my spine and once he hit my hips, he slid his hand under my shirt and wrapped it around me, laying his palm flat on my stomach. He pushed my hair out off of my neck with his other hand and laid a small, gentle kiss on my bristling skin. I felt a single tear fall down my cheek and land on my chest, my heart cracking and pulling at the seams for still loving this man and for hating what he had become. I felt my face bend up into a broken cringe as he kissed my neck and he pulled me closer to him. His hand felt cold and rough on my flesh; like dead mans hands. I turned to look at him in the darkness, and could barely see his sunken eye sockets and sickly pale skin. He looked up into my eyes and wiped away the tear that was trailing down my cheek.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes and pressed his face into my cheek. He kept mumbling that sad apology over and over in a husky whisper into my neck. I had heard it so many nights before. I put my hand gingerly under his chin and lifted his face to mine. His skin smelled clean and his mouth didn't have its usual rank of drugs and booze. He must have taken a shower. It saddened me at how surprised I was that this small, seemingly normal act had been accomplished. I looked away from him and dropped my hand.

"Don't. I can't listen to this tonight."

His hand was still pressed against my stomach and he began sliding it slowly up to my breasts. I let out a small unwanted gasp as his stiff hand stumbled over my nipple. He pulled his hand out of my shirt and tugged it off over my head. I was too weak, too tired, too lonely to fight him. I looked down at the bed as he ran his hands over my neck and through my hair. He pulled my eyes up to meet his and in a flash of heat and arousal, I saw that old familiar look in his eyes that told me he still wanted me. Another tear fell down my cheek and he kissed it off my face lightly, tracing its path down towards my mouth, and then pressed his lips deeply into mine. I felt my body growing heavy as I leaned into him, pushing my tongue past his teeth, and pulling his shirt off. I put my hands on his shoulders and ran them over his chest and his neck, feeling the bones jutting out from the paper skin. He bit my lips and pulled my hair slightly back, grazing his teeth over my neck and licking the space between my breasts. He laid me back on the bed and slipped his hand in between my thighs. He let out of a soft moan when he found my wetness, and I let my breathe mingle in his ear, my entire body engulfed in heat and anger and sadness and longing. I slipped his pajama pants down with my feet, never letting go of my grip on his neck. He looked in my eyes and I kissed him again, teasing his tongue with mine, and he hastily pulled my pajama shorts off. I wrapped my legs around his elongated body as he thrust inside of me.

I drug my nails across his back and pushed my knees deeper into him, pushing him farther inside of me, the tears still falling from my eyes, as he moaned above me in the darkness. I thought of the girl I was when he first pushed his way inside of me, and how far we had come from that laughing happy place. I wanted him to tear my insides apart the way he had my heart and my brain; I wanted him to fuck this misery and fear out of me. I let out a soft, whimpering moan as he gave in to me. He kissed my neck and face with those thin, tired lips and I pulled on his short thinning hair. As quickly as the passion arrived, it erupted and he lay on top of me, sweaty and breathing heavily. I wiped my tears away with my free hand as I stroked his neck and back with the other. I pushed him lightly until he got off of me, and I rolled over on my side, pulling my legs to me chest. He tucked himself in behind me, our naked bodies glistening in the dark, illuminated by a single shaft of moonlight peering through the curtains. I felt infinity tugging on my eyelids and I drifted off into sleep.

"I love you."