thewordofweb: (bleary)
[personal profile] thewordofweb
I haven't wanted to get up for days. The truth is, after returning from the sea without answers, I hadn't wanted to do much of anything, but I need to keep functioning. I still don't stray very far from the Homestead and have set out to sit on the swing in the gazebo, sketchbook open and pencil taking to drawing my sister's features, my brother's profile, Cam's curious hands when he gets a present. It's enough to tie me to a tether back home, to some thought that I didn't go out on the ocean in an effort to die.

It's still not much to convince me, though. I still feel...lost. My head rests despondently on the side of the swing and I drift aimlessly as I find myself swinging around.

It's not much. It's not enough to take my mind off 'five miles' and 'never came back'.

Date: 2009-05-11 02:47 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Up-do)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"You really need to stop sulking," I declared as I made my way over to the gazebo, because I could tell he was still in a mood all the way across the lawn. "Look," I continued as I stepped up, basket looped over one arm. "I brought cake."

Date: 2009-05-11 02:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I stare up at the new voice and manage a smile for Shari, always pleased to see her. "I swear, between you and Joe, you are trying to get my fattened up," I complain without much feeling in my voice, not moving much at all. "Why aren't you still lingering in wedded bliss?"

Date: 2009-05-11 03:17 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Talking)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"We got back yesterday," I explained as I took a seat beside Webster and balanced the basket across my lap. "It's not like there are that many places to go around here that don't involve running for your life."

I pulled a fork out of the basket and handed it over. "So, what's the deal? Are we going to start a 'freak out and sail away' club or something?"

Date: 2009-05-11 03:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That gets a dragged laugh of pain out of me and I take the fork, folding up my sketches and setting them to my side. "I found my obituary," I admit to her without much delay, rubbing at my eyes to try and cease an overemotional display that would get me mocked. "It had some...discrepancies to it. I needed to think alone and there's no better place than out there. So I stayed for a couple of days three miles out."

I shrug idly, staring at my lap. "How was the honeymoon?" I ask, trying to sway the topic. "How's Luz?"

Date: 2009-05-11 03:41 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (ORLY?)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"It was good, he's good," at least as far as I could tell. George was a pretty simple guy with pretty simple needs. He seemed happy enough to be married and moved into the house.

I pulled a smallish Tupperware container from the basket, popped off the lid and then passed it over the Webster. "That sucks," I casually remarked as I drew another fork from the basket and then set it aside. "Mine said I'd committed suicide, what did yours say?"

Date: 2009-05-11 03:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Five miles offshore, body never found, oar and tiller missing," I say, laughing quietly as if it's some deadpanned joke. "I'm not a bad sailor. I've been taught since I was a kid, I've practiced on all crafts, I know every hint to avoid sharks," I insist, strained. "I...I wouldn't just go missing."

I swallow hard, staring at her with wide eyes. "What did it feel like? To die?"

Date: 2009-05-12 03:39 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Looking ahead)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
I leaned closer so that I could spear a bit of the cake in the container with my fork, and then considered how to best answer his question while I chewed and swallowed.

"Confusing," I finally settled on. "At first, at least. I didn't actually feel anything, and didn't know I'd died until I saw my body. Woke up at home and rode all the way to the hospital with my family. I thought they were just giving me the silent treatment until we got to the morgue. It wasn't all bad, though. Being dead, I mean."

Date: 2009-05-12 06:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"And before..." This is all strange and I lean over to take some of the cake with my own fork, "Did you ever have days when you sort of wanted to?" My voice goes light and reedy, almost wary. "Moments where you wanted to actively just give up?"

Date: 2009-05-12 07:17 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Concern)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"What, like commit suicide?" I asked with an uncertain furrowing of my brow. "Or do you mean after death?" Not that it really mattered, since the answer was no either way.

Date: 2009-05-12 09:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Committing suicide," I clarify simply with no more than a bow of my head to indicate a nod. My appetite is somewhat gone and I let my fork linger slightly, away from the food. "I...I don't know if I willingly gave up."

Date: 2009-05-12 09:16 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Contemplation)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"Does it really matter?" I carefully asked. "Not to be unsympathetic or anything. You as you're sitting here with me right now isn't the you that was written about in that obit, right? And it doesn't say suicide, it just gives the facts as people understood them at the time. Maybe you got into some sort of epic Martin Brody battle with a great white or something. I mean, I was pushed off a balcony and everyone assumed I'd jumped except my brother, which was completely stupid, so I get it. But there's not much you can do about it here."

Date: 2009-05-12 10:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"I don't know who Martin Brody is," I say, suddenly lost and feeling a bit stupid for my worries. Yeah, so I die. And yes, so I leave kids behind, but I'm not about to do that to Joe here and we're in better territory than I could have imagined. I let out a quiet scoff of a sigh and offer her a slight smile. "I'm officially changing the subject. Are you okay?"

Date: 2009-05-12 11:28 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Considering)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"Sorry, I forget sometimes," I replied, but decided it best not to clarify. I didn't want him thinking I was making light of the whole thing.

"I'm... okay," I continued, and was well enough aware that I didn't sound all that convincing. "In the most literal sense of the word. I'm not bad, but I've still got issues. I'm seeing a therapist, it's helping." And thank God for that, because I just couldn't put this on George. It wouldn't be fair.

Date: 2009-05-13 12:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Funny, I just quit my therapy," I say quietly, with no intention of discussing it or wanting to go back. I merely force a smile on my face, trying to weather through. "I had no idea that you were anything but a happy girl before you got here. I really didn't."

Date: 2009-05-15 01:44 pm (UTC)
broken_brushes: (Talking)
From: [personal profile] broken_brushes
"I was a happy girl before I got here," I corrected, because death had its drawbacks, but I'd not been unhappy, not once everything had been worked out and Amanda had been caught. "That probably makes it sound like this place has made me miserable or something, and that isn't true, but..." I shrugged, and speared a bit more cake. "Before this place, the only loss I'd really had to deal with was my own death, and that is so not the same thing. Like, I could still spend time with my friends and family, they just didn't know it. This place, though. It's hard to not be paranoid. I've lost most of the people I've been close to. You probably shouldn't be talking to me, for Joe's sake." As a joke, that one fell pretty flat, I have to admit, probably because I was partly serious.

Date: 2009-05-16 12:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Please, if I vanished, he'd come find me and kill me twiceover for leaving him," I half-joke mildly with a roll of my eyes. I also don't mention that I still would get to go back to a life with Joe tangentially in it. It just wouldn't be the same. "I just don't want to die because I'm already supposed to be dead. I'm just starting this life," I point out quietly.


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