Page 5 of Bone Dust

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Purge my sins, cleanse my soul

Take this heart and make it whole

He-e-e-eal me

Reach inside, take my pain

Can you make me whole again

He-e-e-eal me

Heal me.

Despite my best attempt to remain unnerved, my voice warbles ever so slightly. I croon the song that scored Ian and Boundless Hearts a platinum record. It’s a gamble, singing the song in the fashion I wrote it, but it’s one I’m willing to take. Their band made millions on a bastardized, heavy-metal version of the song, but I’d signed over the rights for five hundred dollars and VIP tickets to their concert. My parents encouraged me to enter the contest, confident that I had talent. I guess I did because the band made a boatload of money off my song. Now, their lead singer was hearing it the way it was meant to be sung, and not the way they recorded it.

A surge of pleasure rushes through me like a rebel ghost swelling through the mist, and the memory of the brave girl I used to be rises like a phantom. The rush of confidence thickens my blood bringing back a memory of a fearless girl inside her bedroom. She penned those words keeping time with her heartbeat while the lyrics poured out like a waterfall. When I last heard Ian sing them, he was wasted. His garbled version tripped over words that came from my soul. The sloppy slurring disappointed me and others that night, making me cringe when some in the audience booed him. That whole night I straddled a razor’s edge of excitement and devotion and walked away disappointed and confused. At the VIP Meet and Greet, I made a fool of myself, starstruck and love-drunk as I fawned over my crush. I tripped over my words and fumbled my questions, just as he had done on the stage. When we were made to move along so that others could meet the band, my ever-loving friend, Candace, walked me to our hotel room in silence. With her comforting arm around my shoulder, we stumbled and tripped our way down the hall. When she fell asleep my mind raced and thoughts stewed. My hopes sunk beneath unanswered questions, so I went to the vending machine to drown my feelings with junk food. It was there I found Ian.

I opened my mouth to thrash him with bitter words, but I couldn’t. The man before me wasn’t the cocky singer I’d seen hours before. This was a sad man. A broken man. He couldn’t get the machine to take his money and was totally defeated. The sight was unexpected. Instead of anger, I pitied him. He asked me to help him to his room and, in doing so, I also helped myself.

I revisited my irresponsible behavior from the night before in the morning and, when a hung-over Candace and I stood at the front desk checking out, we were quickly distracted by a rush of reporters. Outside the lobby doors were several police cars and an ambulance. Candace pressed for information and got it from the gossipy desk clerk. Ian had overdosed. Fear consumed me. Was I the last person with him?

I walked away from the desk, desperate to breathe as anxiety consumed me. All I wanted to do was go home, talk to my mom, and wash traces of the night before down the drain. In our Uber Candace reported that housekeeping found Ian, barely breathing. There was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels beside him marred with fingerprint traces of white powder on it, and on top of the nightstand.

Scattered images flash through my mind and prick my heart as I struggle to sing.

Shattered glass.

Crimson dots on a new pair of Vans.

A lake of blood.

The next thing I remember is Sam holding me, telling me it would all be okay as I cried.

For all my life, Sam filled many roles, including surrogate father. He and my dad served together in the military but in this battle, he had my back. There was no other family and, when Sam arrived, he took over. My childhood home was a crime scene and had now become the source of a nightmare from which I’d never escape. Now the house held nothing for me and going back inside the building was an act I couldn’t fathom. Sam arranged for me to stay with Candace until he tied up loose ends. She had gotten a job right out of college and moved into a condo. I was staying with my parents until I could figure out what I would do to pay the bills and continue with my music, which they encouraged. But life has a way of changing your best-laid plans. Instead of the future I envisioned, I spent days curled up in a ball on her couch, using the television for background noise while she was at work. Sam checked in on me and did so often. I half-listened when he said an investor had made an offer for the house, and absentmindedly signed the papers to transfer ownership. I didn’t care about anything for a while and, as I teetered between reality and madness, Ian lost his appeal to me. The last I heard of him; they’d moved him from the hospital to a rehab center.

Oooo, I did my best

But failed the tests