Page 36 of Warmer, Colder

With determined hands, I keep moving through each step of my plan. I start by closing the drain and releasing the water, not bothering to turn it to the left. The icy hold of death will have me in her grasp soon enough. The tub fills, pummeling water rivaling the pounding in my chest, my ears, and my wrists. As my nerves ratchet higher, so do all my senses. The water is rushing like the blood boiling in my veins, loud and relentless. My rapid breaths are swirling winds that rush around my face. I press forward through the onslaught.

Slipping one foot beneath the water, I brace myself for the chill that stings across my skin. It takes some convincing, but the other follows. As the water rises, I peer down into the shallow basin and I think I see her there, the drowning girl. She’s come to collect. I’ve avoided her as long as I can. My knees crack as I lower myself into the water, no longer limber from so many days spent clutching them to my chest in a pathetic effort to keepmyself together. Absorbing water, the oversized flannel clings to my body, a burial shroud. Shivering I lean back and gather my hair at the top of my head that I lay against the hard tile wall. My fingers quiver as they close around the razor. It gleams like the North Star in my hand.“You’re almost home,”the void leaning close soothes in a child’s voice that rings familiar but quickly slips from my mind as I drag the blade through my pale skin.

And it does feel right and warm and peaceful as I draw the final line in the sand.I’ve had enough, I’m done.

Blood blossoms in my mouth as it does from my veins, nourishing me one last time.

With heavy limbs, I give my final bow; I watch the curtains close through tired eyes, relieved when everything falls away.

Death feels familiar, like an old friend. I sink into the warmth of its dark embrace where I’m free of poisonous words and pursuit of perfection. But like anything good, it doesn’t last. With a jarring crash of the open door, I’m ripped back into the cold reality of my circumstances set to the soundtrack of my twin’s hushed devastation.

My eyes bounce from the gruesome state of my lifeless body finally reflecting the way I’ve felt the last few months to his crumpling features.

“Becca!” My name is a bullet tearing flesh as it launches from his throat. “Becca, stay with me.” Aiden’s quickening breaths crowd his words. “What have you done?” The last ounce of color drains from his naturally pale face as he rushes to the side of the tub and drops to his knees. The thudding blow to his bones makes me flinch but he doesn’t even register the impact. His hands hover over me as his eyes stare into my vacant ones. “Becca?”

“Aiden,” I gasp on a sob, but of course, he can’t hear.

“No, no, no, no…” His slender fingers wrap around one sliced wrist, and he presses them into the mangled skin, searching fora pulse. I watch helplessly as hope dies in his eyes. A fleeting shooting star in a dark night sky.

“Aiden, it’s okay—” I choke. The empty apology I’m tempted to offer like ashes on the wind.

My mom’s concerned voice carries down the hall. “Aiden, are you okay? What’s wrong?” The slap of slippers on wood flooring grows closer.

“No.” He kicks out a long leg, slamming the door shut, just moments before it would have crushed my mom’s fingers. He strains, pushing his weight into the door like it’ll save her. Maybe just this one horrific memory.Sorry you weren’t spared, Aiden.

“Mom, you can’t come in here. Not yet.” He quickly positions me, so I won’t slump back into the water and then leaps up to lock the door.

I turn away from the door, from what I know is unfolding on the other side. I can feel the panic pulsing through the air like a living thing. A mother’s love is tangible, but her fear, that’s suffocating.

I focus on my body, grimacing at the way my soggy hair clings to me like an insect caught in a web. All that effort for nothing.

“Becca, fuck; no this can’t be real. Wake up,” Aiden sobs.

“Aiden,” my mother says breathlessly, and the metallic shaking of the knob stops. “Aiden, what’s wrong with your sister?” It begins to move again. “Open this door right now.”

“Mom,” Aiden sobs into the crack of the frame, turning away from my lifeless body. “Please…” His raspy voice that’s always been steady and sure, snaps and crackles, lightning splitting an old oak. “Just trust me; there’s nothing you can do. You need to call an ambulance.”

Death snuffs out all sound, all movement. A mother’s greatest fear settles into place. Our little house goes cold, the loss echoing through their hearts and into its foundation.

The shrill dial tone throws everything back into motion. Aiden’s uneven breaths fill the bathroom, and I choke on his panic. Pale blue eyes search mine, finding them empty and wandering. A piece of himself gone. Shaking fingers lace with mine—my body’s—we’re not connected anymore but through memory. Aiden must feel it, too. When he tightens his grip, blood trickles down his bare forearm and he crumbles. Our blood on the outside doesn’t sit right. He looks so small as he pulls his legs into himself, forgetting his hold on the door as grief finally overrides his protective instincts.

“Aiden,” I whisper as I crouch to stroke his hair. “I—” Shock jolts through me when I realize I can’t feel the feathery softness of the unstyled strands or the heat of his scalp. My mom walks through me at the same moment and looks through me too as I gaze up at her from the floor of that bathroom that’s turned into a sarcophagus.

“My baby!” Her curdling scream is a powerful agony that could cave in the roof, shatter the walls, and bring it all down around us. “No, Becca. Please, no.”

The horror compounds as my dad sprints into the bathroom; his features contort with loss when he takes in the scene. “What—” A crackled wail leaves his throat that will haunt me for eternity if I’m forced to remain here like this.

Their pain is thousands of bullets piercing what’s left of my mangled heart.

What.

Have.

I.

Done.

“Mommy,” I cry out, begging her to fix my mistakes just one more time. She can’t hear me over layered sobs that surely sound like the pits of Hell sinking into my ears and clawing their way inward until they shred whatever’s left of my sanity. “Mom!”I claw at her clothing. “Mommy?” My throat burns from the screams that tear through it. “Please, see me. Don’t you feel me? I’m right here.” My frail hands wrap around her wrist in a vice grip and it’s like holding onto air. She slips through my fingers as she holds Aiden close, burying him into her chest, trying to shield him. They huddle around one another, their grief a tight circle that somehow revolves around me yet doesn’t include me. The reality of that distance between me and the people I love breaks something in me too. I cave in on myself beside them.

---