The Unyielding Light Of Truth

The music was loud and intense and devoid of any instrumentation. I fucking hate hip-hop, I thought as I waded through the sea of people at Damo’s house. It was a party. Damo’s kind of party. Scantily clad teenage girls were everywhere, all being sought out by suitably trendy dressed males. These people were Damo’s work friends, friends of his work friends and so on. None of them interested me. Quickly, I decided that the best way out of this was to drink myself stupid.

I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. It wasn’t mine, but by this point stealing a drink was hardly going to plague my mind. From there, things got blurry. Suddenly I was on my tenth beer and feeling splendidly stupid. I was sitting outside on the front lawn with Greg, who’d just arrived.

“So it’s shit in there?” He asked of the party raging inside.

“Terrible.” I answered. We sat silent for a moment before he reached into his back pack and retrieved a beer of his own. Opening and drinking, he turned to me with a grin.

“So what’s been up lately? You’re living at Damo’s house now? What does Rachel think of that?” A rapid succession of questions emanating from my Kyuss friend. I didn’t know which one to answer first, so I just shrugged. Greg took another swig from his drink before firing another inquiry. “You still have your thing for Rachel, or are you over that?” Again I shrugged. I wasn’t going to bother opening my mouth until I felt it was required.

Eventually, Greg spoke again. “So, are you still seeing that therapist?” This was enough to bring me out of my silence.

I don’t want to talk about it.” I said plainly before finishing my drink and throwing it out on to the road, letting the glass smash.

Where I awoke was in Katya’s room. Katya’s room in Damo’s house. And as my eyes opened, it felt like I’d been pulled from one reality to another. For a moment I had questioned myself as to whether I was dreaming at the party, but I’d thought and looked around me and dismissed it. The dream had seemed so real, even achieving lucidity within had become difficult.

I was lying next to Katya, facing her back as she slept. Something within me implored my mind to recall the dream I had just woken from. The party, the noise, the questions. Though I could recall them, I could already feel them drifting. Away into the depths of subconscious. Where every living memory is stored. Where even if you can’t access it, you know the experience remains remembered somewhere. Nothing you ever do can be lost, just misplaced. Whether you can find a lost artifact of your life, a long forgotten memory, a faded dream, is up to the strength of your resolve. Whether you’re really looking or not. After some vain trying to grasp the dream and analyse every little detail of it, it slipped away. With my eyes on Katya, I didn’t care. Anything could drift from me as long as she stayed and I would be fine. Inside, whatever it was that wished for memory evaporated when I put my arm around Katya and rested my head on her shoulder. Kissing her, I closed my eyes and rested in the warmth of love. Embracing happiness and leaving behind the comfort of depression.

It didn’t take long before Katya’s room being where it was seemed normal. I barely even had to convince myself. By this point, I’d surrendered myself to reality and all the weirdness it was throwing at me. The revelation had come to me at some stage that the only way to preserve my sanity was to quit questioning anything. If I just accept everything, I’ll have no reason to search for answers. To quest for truth. Life made easy. When you allow the world to swallow you whole and do whatever it wishes, you are free. Much like the comfort of depression, surrendering everything means you have nothing left to lose. What I was doing was uncovering every type of freedom I could. What I was figuring was that insanity was a blessing. Some kind of gift given to set me away from all the constraints of those who try to live for themselves in this world. What was happening was I was rationalizing the madness that had surrounded me so as to avoid complete oblivion. So as to avoid losing my mind.

I’d stopped writing. I’d convinced myself I’d quit thinking. I was adapting to my surroundings. Trying to be normal. Attempting to salvage some kind of life in this apocalyptic reality.

And as I lay beside Katya, memories entered my mind. Not pictures, but feelings. As you move further away from your memories, the ability to picture them disintegrates. All you’re left with it the knowledge that it happened. Though, if you can’t picture an event, how reliable is memory?

The memories parading within my head as I lay in Katya’s bed were of ever since I found out about this room. Katya had been here more often, sleeping in the room on occasion. Though, she’d still been spending the majority of her time with Jessie, who I still hadn’t met. Katya wouldn’t allow me to go with her to Jessie’s house, for whatever reason, and I hadn’t really persisted.

The time I’d been spending with Katya had been precious. She was key to maintaining my sanity. When all I could think about was her, it meant my mind could not focus on any dire thoughts. The way she’d been lately had seemed strange, though. Often when she returned to Damo’s after a day out, she would go straight to her room and rest for hours. The main reason I hadn’t persisted in trying to go to Jessie’s house was that when I suggested it, Katya completely lost her cool. She raged, accusing me of not trusting her and asking why I had to follow her everywhere she went. This basically scared me off asking again.

Opening my eyes and moving further from my memories, I felt Katya awaken. I gave her some room and she rolled over and looked at me uncomfortably. I ran my hand down her arm and felt goosebumps on her skin.

“You cold?” I asked. She was silent for a moment before shaking her head in response. Her face moved in toward mine and her lips rested on my cheek as her eyes looked away. I took her face with my hand and repositioned her until our lips were together. She separated us quickly as I wondered why her mouth felt so dry. As she hastily dressed herself, I asked “What are you doing?”

“I’m heading off.”

“I’m going to go out get my pay from my boss and then I’ll probably go see Jessie.”

“Already?” Fuck. It always hurt when she left so suddenly.

And then she was gone. I rolled onto my back and let the room consume me. All around me were pictures of my heroes, Katya’s heroes. Paintings Katya had done. It seemed she hadn’t painted or played guitar in ages. Almost the same time I’d quit writing. I wished her creativity wouldn’t cease, but her reaction to my questions about Jessie urged me not to bring up any subjects that may further infuriate her.

After taking in the room for a while, letting it take me in, I got up out of bed and dressed myself. Wearily, I exited Katya’s room and made my way to the kitchen. What I saw there shocked me completely. Damo was sitting at the table, staring down at what lay ahead of him. He let my presence pervade for a period before taking his gaze away and fixing it on me.

“What’s that?” I asked of what he’d been staring at. I knew what it was, though I couldn’t quite believe it was in this house.

“What does it fucking look like?” Clearly he was infuriated by its presence. “I found it in the toilet. Is it yours?”

“Mine?” I was incredulous. “Fuck off man, you know how much I hate that shit.” And I looked at the dirty thing again.

“Well there’s only been one other person around here lately.”

I froze. “Katya?” I shook my head. “No.” I couldn’t find another way to deny his accusation, so I repeated “No.” I sat down at the other side of the table and stared at Damo who was looking increasingly serious. “There’s no way, man. She’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He asked and I went to answer immediately but was interrupted as he continued. “You were saying the other day that she’s been acting weird.”

“Yeah, but ‘weird’ doesn’t mean…”

“Owen, she’s the only other person that’s been here. It has to be hers.”

I looked at the filthy again and shook my head. “No way.” And it all started making sense and I repeated “No way.” And I remembered her wearing a jumper in the hot, covering herself up. I remembered her moving away when I was kissing down her arm on Damo’s couch. I remembered the drowsiness and the way she’d seemed whenever she returned after hanging out with Jessie. I remembered the way Jessie’s voice had sounded over the phone, slurred, muffled, out of it. All these memories I could picture clearly. Each as vivid to me as they were at the moment they occurred. So much evidence pointed in one direction and at the same time I was shocked, disgusted and worried.

As obvious as it was becoming to me, I let my head slowly hit the table. I closed my eyes and let my hands grasp my hair, almost pulling. With the unyielding light of truth shining in and uncovering everything I wished wouldn’t exist, I repeated “No.”

And all the while, Damo sat watching, a used hypodermic needle lying on the table ahead of him.