Sophie Shields, 2016
I am sitting cross legged on the dock and sipping my coffee.
After I couldn’t get out of bed for a few more days, Zack’s sister came in and gave me a lecture on overcoming depression. Then, she and her boyfriend basically sent us away to their friend’s cottage in Northern Ontario, where they said it would be impossible not to unwind and relax.
So, that is where we are now.
And it’s a little better. The sun is setting over a quiet lake, and the first stars are just popping out. The crescent moon is becoming more and more visible, along with its reflection on the water. There is even a little canoe I have paddled out onto the lake a few times. I am tempted to do it now, and just lie down and drift in the middle of the lake. But there is something comforting about just sitting here and sipping my coffee.
I feel like I can breathe a little. For the first time in a while.
Even though my birth name was Serenity, I feel that peacefulness is the feeling that has most escaped me in my life. So, when I have it, I try to hold onto it, and this is one of those moments.
I have almost started to feel so okay that I can start thinking about the future again. I force myself to picture my next steps, and map out new goals. The problem with being in captivity like that, and so close to death, is that it erases everything your life was before. It’s hard to remember where I was, what I wanted, what I dreamed about most.
All I could focus on for days was just getting through each moment, and staying alive.
But now, I try to imagine growing old. Maybe I’ll find myself living somewhere like this someday, in a quaint little cottage on a lake. Most of the neighbors are older and retired. This seems like the perfect place to enjoy those wrinkly, golden years. But when I imagine my future, I can’t help imagining Cole, right there beside me.
Pain floods my chest.
I shut my eyes, trying to shut him out.
I need to forget. I need to forget all the beautiful things he says in my dreams, not because they are lies, but because they are true.
The reason I spent so much time sleeping lately is because it is safe.
Dreaming is like a virtual reality, where it’s fine to experience all the things I want to experience. But I am sure if I actually reached for the happiness and love I crave, I would ruin it. I would lose it.
Why bother trying?
Look at me—this shaking, damaged, trembling mess of a girl. I have been getting so many mini-blackouts lately that I must be driving Zack crazy. For the entire time that I lived with him, I don’t think I needed Snow once. He never met her. He never needed to. Now, he has to put up with two of me—or possibly three.
Zack has been so patient and kind, especially to Joy. He makes her breakfast every morning, milk and Lucky Charms. He went grocery shopping, and got her orange juice, Lunchables, and ice cream—all her favorite things.
We still haven’t taken her to the theatre to see a movie, but that’s mostly my fault. I haven’t had the energy to get dressed, or brush my hair. I have been wearing the same pajamas since we got here. However, we have watched plenty of movies on Netflix with Joy. Zack has been trying to keep me away from fiddling with the TV too much, worried that I will misuse the Internet, and it will negatively affect my health. He isn’t totally wrong.
It’s frustrating, but I think it’s working. I’m feeling a little better every day.
A little more normal.
I don’t know how long I can continue like this, really. Joy needs to be enrolled in school—although I could probably homeschool her just fine. I need to work. We will need money, eventually. But I can’t think about any of that.
All I can do is drink coffee.
Close my eyes.
Dream about Cole.
There are birds singing in the trees, and crickets chirping nearby. Nature is soothing. The cool air tickles my shoulders, but I hardly notice. I only think of Cole.
It hurts more than it did before. Or does it? I hardly remember.
But we were so close to something beautiful, this time.
I could feel it. We were close to perfection.
And I had to go and ruin it all.
It is my fault, after all. He did ask to come with me to Michigan. He did say he was worried. But I wanted to go off on some grand solo adventure to find myself, and find my family. Look at how that turned out. What a disaster.
I should have been content. I should have known that Cole was all the family I would ever need.
I should have known that any family that would turn their back on me, leaving me in a ditch to die, wasn’t worth bothering to find. It wasn’t worth the cost of letting Benjamin find me.
Or was it?
At least I know now that he’s really gone. Gone for good.
That should comfort me, at least a little, shouldn’t it? And I have Joy.
I should be happy I’ve found her, right? That’s all that matters. Whether or not she’s actually my daughter… she does bring Joy into my life.
Whenever I can stand to be awake. Am I healthy enough to take care of her? If not for Zack, I know I wouldn’t be. Am I failing her? Is she better off without me?
I lift my coffee mug to my lips, and sip.
When I hear footsteps on the dock behind me, my body tenses up. Why is Zack wearing real shoes? We have been walking around barefoot or in flip flops on the property. A shiver prickles the skin on my back and neck. These do not sound like Zack’s footsteps. They sound heavy, purposeful, angry. I listen keenly for a third sound—the sound of a cane hitting the ground. Although I know Benjamin is dead, I can still imagine the sound of his cane.
Have I fallen asleep on the deck and started dreaming?
Closing my eyes tightly, I sip my coffee.
It might be dream coffee. I’m not entirely certain.
The footsteps grow closer, slowly, hesitantly. There is no cane. Just footsteps. Kind, caring, powerful footsteps. I try to continue staring forward, telling myself little lies inside my head, so I can hold on to my little piece of serenity.
This isn’t real. He doesn’t exist.
It’s just a dream.
But even as I tell myself this, I feel someone crouching down to sit behind me on the deck. Is this really happening?
Has he somehow found me?
I don’t want him to see me like this.
I can never face him again.
Shutting my eyes tightly, I clench my jaw. “Are you really here?”
“Yes.”
I feel his breath on the sensitive skin on the back of my neck when he speaks, and tears begin to gather in my eyes. His voice. It sounds exactly like it does in all the dreams, but somehow… more tired. Knowing how messed up my mind is, I can’t really trust that this is happening. But when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder, my insides quake and tremble at the magnetism and gravitational pull of the touch.
“Zack called you,” I whisper.
“Yes.”
His hand slides over my upper arm, tentatively.
I hold my breath. I refuse to breathe. I will suffocate before I allow myself to turn around and launch myself into his arms. If this is a dream, there should be no harm in it. But I’m afraid that if I wake up and turn around, there will be nothing there but empty air. And I couldn’t bear that. I would just be crushed.
And if he is there, I will break down completely.
Everything strong and hard inside myself I’ve been trying to rebuild will be liquefied.
I can’t let myself be soft with him right now. I can’t let myself fall apart.
Because all this pain is so strong, that it’s taking every ounce of my willpower to push it down. If I let myself feel, it will tear me limb from limb, until there is nothing left of me.
So, I just keep on sipping my coffee.
I just pretend that nothing is happening.
But I feel his lips press against my shoulder. I feel his words tickle my earlobe before I can process the syllable.
“Scar?” he murmurs.
And I feel my heart quiver.
I feel my heart crack.