Sometimes it's possible, that the worst thing in the world can actually turn out for the best. For a period of time Trisha had lost both Isaac and Jeremy. The two of them held incredible positions in her heart, as the only two men who had cared for her so purely. She had never been close to her father. He had left when she was 7 and the years before that were not very favorable to her.
So now, she was at this time, without Isaac and without Jeremy. Conscientiously she had pushed away one, because of pushing away the other one. So with one man lost to her, why had she turned aside the other? In hopes the first would come back to her. Why is it that people will go back to a place that they know, instead of seeking the adventure of new existences? Security, of course. Trisha felt secure in her relationship with Isaac, and she wanted/needed that security. She was willing to give up that feeling, which she could have had, with Jeremy, in order to find it again with Isaac.
We all do that. We give up possibilities for certainties. It's a natural thing. The problem is sometimes, certainties themselves are uncertain.
Trisha lay waking up from a sleep. She'd been sleeping a lot, a lot more than usual. She'd stopped going to the band practices and the tutoring with Mr. Jenkins. Nothing mattered to her. Without anyone in her life to remind there was a point to the madness of the world, what point was there to deal with any of it?
Stretching, she rolled onto her stomach. The picture frame by her bed caught her eye. It was of her and Isaac. Taken backstage, at their club show. His hand rested on her hip, and hers on his waist. They were smiling happily.
She turned away from the picture, and glanced in the mirror. Her eyes were sunken in, her face pale, and dark circles marked themselves under her eyes. This is what happens when you don't eat for a month. She thought to herself.
She looked back at the picture, and the gentle smile on her lips. She looked back into the mirror. It was inconceivable that the face that looked back at her would be able to smile at all. She tried to smile. Her mouth stretched into a painful expression of false joy.
Flopping helplessly onto her bed she sobbed. "I want to die. I just wish that I could die. To fall asleep and never, ever wake up." In distance she could hear the doorbell ringing. "MOM! SOMEONE'S AT THE DOOR!" She yelled.
She lay silently for a moment before she realized that her mom was at work. "God damn, fucking over time."
She flung herself onto the floor and dragged herself to the door. "Hello?" She opened it.
Sarene stood in front of her. Her rich blonde hair had been dyed dark brown but the minor change in her was nothing compared to what she saw in Trisha. "Oh my god." The stick-like figure with a white face and empty eyes, wasn't even a trace of her friend. "I just came to ask if you were coming to the practice today."
Trisha shrugged, as if she didn't care. "I wasn't planning on it."
"Um, but that girl, the um…"
"Kirsten Dunmire?"
"Yeah, um…" Sarene stammered. "Her party's coming up."
"I know."
"So we wanted to practice. And, it's not the same without you there." She smiled and playfully pushed at Trish.
"I'll think about it."
"Trish, babe you wanna talk?"
She shook her head. "There isn't anything to talk about."
Sarene shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Come on, please. Don't do this to yourself. Talk to me, we can fix whatever's going on."
"Nothing's going on." Trisha closed her eyes, as if trying to collect herself. "I'm just rearranging my priorities."
Sarene turned and began to walk away. She whirled around to face her friend. "Does this have anything to do with Isaac?"
"NO! It's got nothing to do with him!" Trisha screamed. "Why does everyone assume that what goes on with me has to do with him? We're not the same people! We're different! We have nothing together!"
"Trish, calm down."
"I WILL NOT FUCKING CALM DOWN!"
"Trisha please." Sarene sobbed.
"Get out of my house! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! GO AWAY!"
Sarene began to run to her car.
"DON'T EVER COME BACK HERE! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED ANYBODY! AND I DON'T NEED HIM!" Trisha closed the door as Sarene drove away. "I don't need him." She clenched and unclenched her fists. Stumbling she walked back into her bedroom. She held the picture of her and Isaac in her hands. "I don't need you." She whispered.
She lay on her back, the picture face down on her stomach. She could hear his voice, trickling on the breeze from the open window. If you don't need me, then why are you lost without me? "I'm not lost." You don't know where to go, and where to turn to. "I don't want you anymore. I don't need you. It doesn't matter where I go and what I turn to. Nothing matters. What's the point anyway? You want me to be there for you. You wish I was there with you. I know you do. "I can't. I can't. As soon as I want you, I'll have nothing left. Because you're not in my life anymore. I ruined everything." The picture was held tight in her hand, she lay on her stomach, her hands extended above her head. "Denial is all I have left." A sob overtook her and the frame fell from her fingertips.
Silently the glass shattered. "NO! Oh my god no!" Dashing to the ground she began trying to put it all back together. The picture was cut from the pieces of glass, and her fingers began to bleed as quickly as her tears fell.
Standing up she leaned against the wall. "There's only one way out. Can you take it?" Almost as if an unseen force was pulling her, she walked into the kitchen. Fingering a steak knife she leaned with her back against the counter. The blade's tip felt it's way across her shoulders, down her arms, and across her stomach. Unconsciously she began to apply pressure and it barely pierced the skin. In a trance, she couldn't feel it. Nor did she realize that she was writing his name across her belly. She didn't realize it had even touched her until she had begun making a hard slice across her shoulder and the phone rang.
"What?" The knife crashed to the floor. "Hello?"
"Trish?" It was Taylor.
"Hi, Tay." She choked the words out breathily.
"Sarene just called me. She said you weren't feeling too well."
"No, I'm alright. Really. I just have a flu."
"Flu? Gee, they got funny names for some of that shit now, huh?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Nevermind. Look, I know someone who'd really like to talk to you. And if it's alright with you, would you be willing to hear him out?"
"Who?"
"Ike."
She gulped. Why would he want to talk to her anyway? "Ok."
"I'm so sorry. Isaac, I'm so very very sorry. I wasn't thinking enough about you, and I was so inconsiderate and I'm so sorry."
"Trish, stop apologizing."
She smiled. "I'm sorry." They laughed.
"I've missed you. Ya' know. Just hearing your voice."
"Am I crazy? Because I can still hear your voice," she paused. "Even when you're not here."
"Nah, you're not crazy."
"Not crazy, just psycho?" She smiled.
"Neither. You're not crazy, you're just like me."
"You hear your voice too?"
"No." He laughed. "I head your voice. I fall asleep and I can hear you."
"What does that mean?"
"That we hear each other?"
"Yeah."
"Who knows?"
Trisha paused, she knew what he was thinking. It means we love each other But it couldn't mean that. It meant that they were good friends. It means that they cared about each other a lot. That didn't mean they were in love. After a while, in silence, she ventured "So we're cool?"
"Yeah, of course." He paused. "Trish, promise me something?"
"What?"
"Call me, always. Whenever you're happy, whenever you're sad. I'll always make time for you."
"Ike?"
"Could I tell you anything?"
"Anything. I will never judge you. To me, you'll always be Trish."
"Even if I smoke, or drink, or sleep around, or swear, or join a convent, or become suicidal?"
"Especially if you smoke, drink, sleep around, swear join a convent, or become suicidal. I'll always be Ike to you, and you'll always be Trish to me."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
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