“Honey, Morik’s not like us. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“No mom. He told me. He can be hurt just like us. Bleed just like us.” I looked down at my clothes. I felt the tightness on my face from his dried blood. “He’s dead,” I whispered brokenly, swiping at the mess on my skin and clothes. The visual reminder of his abandonment tore at me.
“Clare, we can’t take her out of here like this,” Aunt Grace murmured.
I didn’t pay them any further attention. My insides were breaking. Everything hurt. Especially my throat. Another sob bubbled out of me. Someone helped me stand and steered me to the bathroom near my bedroom. Water ran. Someone helped peel the clothes from me. Steam filled the air. A hot spray soaked my skin. I started to shake and blinked at the shower curtain. Mom stood partially outside using the removable nozzle to hose me down. The water ran clear in the drain. I had expected red.
“Come on, sweetie,” she said coaxing me out of the shower. She dried me and helped me dress in the pajamas I’d just changed from. They smelled like Morik. Tears streamed down my face.
Aunt Grace knocked on the door and whispered something to Mom.
My reflection caught my attention and stared back at me. I wondered if the girl in the mirror had figured it out already. We were dead without Morik. How many weeks did we have left? I couldn’t think straight but guessed less than five. Then I would be like Aunt Danielle. No, not like her. I had no twin to tie me here. I’d just die.
Bleakly, I allowed my mom to turn me and lead me from the bathroom. She helped me put on socks and shoes again. Someone had cleaned them. I couldn’t remember her taking them off.
The entry smelled like cleaner. No blood remained.
I continued to cry.
Chapter 19
I struggled with any concept of time. When pain didn’t consume me to the point of sobbing dry heaves, a strange numbness invaded blocking reality. My relief came in the form of the chant I used to hate. I now welcomed the oblivion with open arms. It came too infrequently though, leaving me to struggle through my regrets.
Too late, I realized my own love for Morik. In the weeks since meeting him, he’d built himself a room in my heart. There all the memories of him remained to haunt me. Every touch and kiss replayed itself. The playful moments in the bowling alley, the anguished moment our eyes met in the bathroom mirror, it all ate at me. Regrets. Missed opportunities for me to tell him of my love.
I stayed in my room avoiding everyone, any reminder of life and dwelled in the darkness of my thoughts.
My solitude didn’t remain as long as I wanted. A hurricane broke my reverie.
Beatriz stormed into my room with thunder in her eyes. I blinked at the unexpected sight. Not just at her presence but also her mood. Everyone spoke softly since Morik died, tiptoeing around my tears and despondent silence. Not Beatriz. She came in yelling.
“NO!” she exclaimed as she burst into the room and strode the four steps to my bed. “I won’t allow this!” She yanked the covers back and pulled me by the hair - yes, the hair - from the prone, curled position I’d lain in for… I didn’t know how long.
She got right in my face. “You reek. Get up now and shower.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I’d cried so much already, but it seemed I wasn’t done yet. She didn’t understand. My best friend. What I’d always wanted. She didn’t understand that I’d lost my heart… that I would be leaving her soon. How could I say good-bye to her too? It just hurt too much.
“I’m not going to cave because you cry. Up!” She tugged again, and I went with her.
I didn’t mind the hair pulling. Its pain dulled the pain I felt inside.
Like my mom, she helped me undress, mumbling something about telling Ted and more lesbian rumors. Unlike mom, she didn’t warm the water. The cold spray jolted me from my stupor.
“W-what are you d-d-doing?” I sputtered at her.
“It’s called not giving up. You should try it sometime,” she snapped.
I tried leaving the shower but she pushed me back in. Narrowing my eyes at her, something inside snapped. “Back off, Beatriz,” I growled.
Cold water dripped down my back. I shivered and crossed my arms, my nakedness finally dawning on me. We glared at each other through the gape in the curtain.
“Shower. Then I’ll let you out.”
I snaked an arm to the handle without looking away from her and spun it toward hot. The water warmed and I angrily turned my back to her and began to wash. As the water warmed, my temper cooled. A little.
“What, besides my smell, prompted you to come barging into my room?” I asked crossly.
“It’s been a week. Your mom said to give you time. But I know you don’t have that. Enough’s enough. You need to find a replacement and stop horsing around.”