Bring Me Home // Harry Styles
Just one chapter from ya boi’s big debut!
It’s been three weeks since Eli’s death, a week ago they declared him a missing person. I haven't spoken in five days, haven't left my bed in three. I watch the sun rise and set, rise and set like a melody that if maybe I can get it just right, I won't have to hear it anymore. I won't have to hear anything, not my sister crying in the room across the hall or my parents arguing in hushed tones in the dead of night. I won't have to hear my ragged breaths or the stomach pains from not eating. But I do hear. In the mornings when the birds wake I try to find comfort in their tunes and the warmth of the sun but I'm so frozen over that it can't penetrate my ozone. I like to think I have gravity as if the dust is being pulled down, settling over my body, and sinking into my skin. I imagine it trying to absorb my energies and become whole again but I tell it if that were possible then I wouldn't be lying here. At night I don't hear anything for long periods. Time is broken up by sirens and stray animals foraging in trash cans. I try to listen for whispers that come from just out of reach in case he wants to speak to me or to let me explain. But I know that if he didn't want to listen in life then he's definitely not going to in death.
It's the middle of the day and my mom brings me another sandwich I will not eat. My sister's room is loud and heavy with her music. She sets the plate on my night stand and picks up the old one. My eyes are closed but I can feel her staring at me as she makes her way to the door. I let out a breath as I think she's left, but she puts the plate on my dresser and crawls into bed. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close and tight. She smells of lavender and honey and I feel her warmth trying to seep into my bones. I want to cry and scream and make her hurt because I can't make anyone else hurt. I need somewhere to direct it but there's no one to blame but myself.
I watch myself thrash, yell, and cry. The snot from my nose is uncontrollable. I am inconsolable. I watch as I lash out at her, she feels my pain but she doesn't run away like I want. I want her to be afraid, to leave me, but she pulls me in hard. I push back harder. I want someone to hurt. If the anger can't escape what will be left of me in the end? Will the heat melt my ice? Boil me over and spill my secrets?
But I am frozen. My anger and pain are locked away under my cold skin and a sunken face. Moving would give way to screams and emotions that I don't deserve. So I let my mother hold me and do the only thing she thinks she can. I let her warmth radiate as it tries to thaw me. When the tears come silently, still with enough coldness to become snow, I slowly bury us alive. The thing with moms is that even as I bury us here I know she won't flinch.
On day eight I find myself in the kitchen standing in front of the stove. The blueing hues from the window tells me the sun will soon rise. I shuffle around maybe aimlessly, maybe not. I'm not sure. I don't realize my hands have a plan until I'm sitting at the table with them wrapping around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. The smell is dark and sweet, making my mouth water. I take a sip and let it scald my mouth and warm my belly. More shuffling comes from behind me.
"Josie?" I croak, slightly startled by my voice.
"Mmm," She sits at the table across from me and stares at the mug. I can see her thinking it over before she grabs her own. I watch her pour the boiling water and mix it with chocolate powder. When we were younger we tried to eat the packets with a spoon and ended up choking.
I want to talk to her. Or do I just want to hear her voice? I don't know. Either way she doesn't speak and neither do I. She pulls my chair away from the table and climbs on my lap. I wrap my arm around my sister's waist and press my face into her side, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. She slides her arm around my shoulder, resting her head on mine. I sip my drink. She sips hers.
"We should shower today," She softly says after a long while. We do smell.
"You do smell pretty bad," I say. I might be grinning. She lifts her head up and makes a pained sound. I finish my hot chocolate. We don't take a shower, just walk to her bed and fall asleep until the sun sets again.
I finally take my mom's advice to run but I don't initially start this first time out of the house. I take labored step after labored step and push my legs forward like a puppet. I'm groggy and hazy and the world won't slow down. It's kept going at the same pace it always has. It didn't take time to mourn or review it's checks and balances to see if it made the right choice. It just kept going and now we have to find our way back in like jumping on a train at full speed. I don't check my footing or where I'm placing my hands as I Jump, I go blindly.
Being in the everyday motions feels like hitting the train car at full speed. My palms are sweaty and my breath comes like a punch to the gut. I find things to latch on to. I sit on the bench at the library we use to go to and pretend we're all there people watching. "That woman over there looks like she tells the birds her life as she feeds them," Mia once said, I can hear us laugh but I can hear Elijah laugh the loudest. When I see my reflection in the library's windows, it's just me. I walk away.
I find myself at the skate park where Josie taught me to skateboard. I wiped out, taking most of the blow to my knees. I think there's still a rock in there somewhere. In high school I watched Isaac ask Allie to be his girlfriend before Isaac realized he actually liked Jonah. We joked that Allie must have been a bad girlfriend. When Mia was 13 she told me that a neighborhood guy tried to feel her up behind the drop in ramp without asking. Elijah overheard and the next day we saw him with busted knuckles; when we asked him about it he just winked and shrugged. Mia blushed.
I walk by the elementary school we grew up in, only a mile or so from the high school we graduated from years ago. I wonder if our names are still under the desk in math, room 104. There was a scandal there about a teacher seducing a student and allegedly trying with others. No one found out who the girl was, they kept the information closed. But I can't see the science building without remembering how Allie never went back for Mr. Samuel's lessons after he asked to see her after class, she wouldn't tell me why. It wasn't until my sister broke down his classroom door after school that I realized. She saw his hand on my thigh and kicked the chair from under him. She pushed his chest down, "You'll get what you deserve." And he did.
The ice cream shop across town was walking distance from where my father worked and he would give us money on Fridays to get some, so long as we brought him back one after. That's where, in 10th grade, Jonah and Isaac found a dog with three legs wandering around eating from the garbage. They managed to entice it with ice cream and take it back to Isaac's. He had a dog already but his parents took him in anyway. They named him Berry after the strawberry flavor they captured him with.
Once at a roller rink Jonah fell and Josie accidentally ran over his finger. She stumbled to a stop and crawled back to him, screaming. He was laughing so hard from her reaction, and probably the shock, that he hadn't cared about the blood coming from his fingers. I sped us to the hospital while Elijah called his dad. By the time we got there the shock had worn off, leaving him with the pain. We called him hook for the rest of the year on account of how the bandages made his hand look. He just smiled as Isaac held his other one.
Once Sam told me I should be nicer because no one would want me. Sam is three years older than Elijah. Josie is two years older than me. Sam and Josie used to spend a lot of time together in her room listening to music really loudly. I knew what they were doing but I was still angry that she didn't ever want me to hangout with them together. So when Sam came over I went to see Elijah. Two can play that game, I thought. And two, they played.
Elijah kissed me one afternoon on winter break after we played outside for hours. My whole body was freezing but his lips were soft, albeit cold. As he took my hand and brought me back inside I thought of Mia and her secret glances his way. Blushing when he'd sit next to her, how she always seemed to have just what he needed, when he needed it. I couldn't look at her the next time I saw her but Elijah acted like nothing happened so eventually I let myself think nothing did. That following summer he took her to the movies and she told me that when they went back to his house they had sex. I smiled and told her that as long as she wanted to, then I was happy for her. On the drive home I thought of his bed.
When I got back I wanted to talk to my sister but as usual, Sam was there so her door was shut. I banged and banged until finally she opened it. "What?" She asked annoyed and out of breath. I guess she could see my youthful confusion and anger, I was 16 and she was 18. I knew what they were doing but I didn't know what I was doing. She sighed and opened the door wider, Sam looked annoyed. I shot him a dirty look and he stood up defensively. She was my sister.
"What's your problem?" He asked. My sister raised her eyebrows at him.
"You're my problem," I sneered.
"I was just sitting here,"
"Yeah well now you're not, so you can leave," I threw him his sweater.
He laughs, "You know what?" he snatches his shoes, "No one's going to want you if you're going to be such a bitch all the time," With that my sister smacked him across the back of the head and pushed him from her room. He whirled around, "Why do you think Eli didn't choose you?"
"Because he was too busy hiding from you!" I screamed at him, slamming her door in his face.
I leaped face down on her bed and screamed into the pillow. Asking what happened, she crawled on the bed and rested her body on mine. "He slept with Mia," I told her through pillows and tears. But I didn't tell her that on that winter day on break, I did also.
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