7/16/12
Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. Closed eyes and covers pulled up, sleep won’t come tonight. Lonely chills eerily creep in through the door like fog. Thick, low and cold, they sneak under the blanket and wrap around my clammy skin. Don’t squeeze any harder. I can’t breathe.
Needing to escape, the plan forms itself in my head. I slowly peek through the dark to find that soft snore from my cat. The pillow beside my head is where he lies sound asleep, completely unbothered. Throw the covers off. Take hold of the cat. I go to the one person that comes to mind. Don’t bother picking up the phone only to hope she will let me in. If she’s awake at this hour.
The door doesn’t even squeak. Placing the cat carefully on the wood floor, I take soundless steps toward the stairs. Another cat? Since when did she get a cat? Fierce glares are exchanged between the two felines. Black vs. grey. They bite and claw. Toss each other around like rag dolls. Noises from the TV room arise. Her dad asleep on the couch, I think he’s waking up. Tosses and turns while jumbled curse words fall from his loud mouth. Sprint to the top of the stairs thinking that he had saw me. But when I glance back, he isn’t there. I slump down on the top step in relief. Catch my breath. Waves of dizziness suddenly take over my body. I can’t feel my own nerves. My bones go liquid and my flesh tumbles down the stair case. Mind and matter. I can’t get a grip. I cannot control. I hit the bottom only to stand to my feet and fight my way back up the stairs to her room. In panic, I quickly stumble into her bed before I lose all control again. Dizzy and nauseated. It’s a battle to focus on her eyes looking at me in confusion. I can see the wheels in her head waking up and trying to process the questions why and how. She jumps up and shakes me.
“Hey! What’s wrong?!”
Holding back my urge to puke, “I don’t feel so good.”
Totally freaked and concerned, “What’s going on?!?”
I show her how I have no bones. How I cannot process how to walk. The room feels like its spinning in a slow motion tornado. I cannot stand. I can’t think. Seeing clearly isn’t possible. My eyes aren’t connected. Neither are my limbs. I fall to the floor and the spinning slows. Resting my cheek on the cold wooden floor, I hear her come over and put her hand on my back. My concentration is on my lungs. In and out with oxygen. My heart pounds against my rib cage. Finally the spinning is almost gone. I force myself to sit up and look at her.
“Can you turn the light on, please?”
Without hesitation, “Yea.”
The light is very dim, “Look at my eyes.”
“Why.”
“You’ll be able to tell.”
“Your eyes are like………… vibrating. Slowly.”
“I’m very dizzy.”
Her eyes. So beautiful. I don’t ever want to look away. I lose my balance again. I hit the floor and I close my eyes for a second. She pulls me up and makes me look at her. With eyes open, everything is black.
Panicked, “Is the light still on?”
“Yes…?”
Scared, “I can’t ******* see!!”
“What?!!?”
“Oh God… Oh God!!”
“Babe! Babe!” She reaches for me and holds me.
I fall into her. My head on her chest. Balling my face off in fear, I see her eyes in my head. Looking so soft. Looking right at me. Full of love and passion. Concern for me. I will never forget those eyes. Last thing I’d ever see. Last thing I will ever memorize.
It’s funny because all I can think is, “Glad it was those eyes.”