10
JASON
“There you are…”
Alex opens her eyes and I return to the world of the living.
She fainted for a few seconds but it seemed like an eternity to me and in one moment I relived that experience I had been trying to cancel from my mind for the last five years.
Another thirty seconds and I would have died, seriously. I went into panic. Out of the blue she falls over on the couch and I felt totally lost. I was terrified that she wouldn’t wake up again.
I’ve studied her illness. I’ve spoken with her father and I asked Rain for some explanations and they gave them to me.
I know that it can happen, that she can have blackouts or convulsions; and they happen every now and again, but for the rest of the time, she’s okay. Her illness is under control, she takes her medicine regularly and the medication means she can live peacefully.
I know that she mustn’t get worked up, and that she should avoid strong emotions and things that are frightening to her. I haven’t become an overnight medic, but I do understand that this is not what happened last time.
“Humm,” Alex mutters and brings her hand up to her forehead. She’s sweating and shaking and I try to calm her by brushing her hair gently.
“Everything’s alright, it wasn’t anything, it’s all over.”
She turns her head slowly resting it on my legs and looks at me sadly.
I can’t see her like this. I just can’t bear to see her exhausted and resigned to her fate.
“Goddamned doorbell,” she murmurs and I lower my head closer to hear her better.
“What’s that?”
“It was the sound of the doorbell,” she continues, slowly tugging herself upwards as I help her to sit up.
Right. Sudden noises.
“I’m tired, I’d like to go lay down if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, I’ll help you.”
“I can make it.” She chastises me with her eyes. “I don’t need you.”
“I just wanted…”
“Don’t do it, okay?” I’ve survived without your help for five years, I can still do it.”
I close my eyes to placate the tears that are trying to betray me. She’s right. I wasn’t close to her. I wasn’t there for her.
I should have, more than anyone else, protected her and helped her to get over all of this, her fears, and to accept this new life.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her again.
She sighs and lets herself go, hugging herself close to my body as I stand there with my arms outstretched.
I’d like to touch her, I’d like to hold her to me and cancel out the past.
I’d like to go back in time to that afternoon. I wish I hadn’t kissed her. And I wished that my mother wasn’t dead.
I want so many, too many, things.
And I can’t have any of them.
