Shadows of a Dream

by Nicole Disney

  “Nope.” I pull out my keyboard and start setting it up. Maybe that’ll be a strong enough hint to get him to leave me alone. I notice my middle A key is missing. “Shit.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” I say. I know I’m being a super bitch to Benny, who totally doesn’t deserve it, but the realization isn’t enough to make me stop.

  “I probably shouldn’t mention this but…”

  “Then don’t,” I snap.

  “Rainn, Jayden says you two have been doing some pretty nasty drugs over there.”

  “Benny, I said don’t.”

  “If you need help, Rainn, getting off…you know, whatever. I’ll help you. I’m here for you.”

  “I’m not on anything.”

  “Jayden said—”

  “Jayden needs to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “He just loves you.” Benny’s face is sagging. He looks older. What is he, a parent? My misbehavior isn’t supposed to make his face droop. That’s reserved for moms.

  “Yeah, well, he just loved me out of a relationship.” I notice the loose key in the corner of my storage unit and start trying to put it back in place.

  “What?”

  “He kept calling her. She thinks there’s something going on the way he’s acting,” I say.

  “Jesus, Rainn, give the guy a break. You were best friends, couldn’t separate you. He doesn’t know who you are anymore. None of us do. Then you tell him you’re doing meth, of course he’s freaking out.”

  “I’m glad to see whose side you’re on.”

  “There shouldn’t be sides. We want you to be happy. Don’t treat us like the enemy.”

  “But you didn’t even ask, Benny. You just listened to precious Jayden. Do I look like a tweaker to you?”

  He looks me over. I stop trying to jam the loose key into my keyboard for a second in case the frantic effort does, in fact, make me look like a tweaker.

  “Well?” I ask aggressively.

  “No, I guess you don’t look any different.”

  “That’s because I’m not.”

  “And Jaselle? Does she look the same, Rainn?” Images of Jaselle’s hollow cheeks seize my rebellious brain.

  “Mind your own business, Benny!”

  He recoils from me in shock. I stare at him, hurt that I’ve hurt him but not backing down. He gets up and goes inside. I know I’ve given away the truth. I throw the loose key back into my storage space and try to play without it, angrily pounding the empty space when I need the note, which, of course, is constantly.

  It takes me a while to realize I’m waiting for Jaselle. Every crunch of gravel or flash of light has my head snapping up looking for her Celica. I wait and wait. Days are passing and she must be thinking of me. She must want me to come home. Soon, weeks are passing. Why hasn’t she called? I jump every time I hear the bar phone ring. It’s never her. Why doesn’t she come to me? Can she feel time at all anymore?

  I’m not breaking. You have to come to me. You have to change. I’m not running back, damn you. I can’t run back. This can’t go on.

  Libido hasn’t moved, obviously. His smirk hasn’t changed either, mocking me. Always mocking. “Fuck you!” I pick up the nearest empty beer bottle and hurl it at him. “You think you could have done any better?” The small splash of beer that was left in the bottle makes his blue paint a little darker.

  Some guy interrupts my episode by sticking his head out the back door and puking, barely missing me. I catch a glimpse of Benny behind the bar before the door swings closed again. I sigh and go inside to get the hose. I can’t sleep next to puke.

  Benny looks flustered. He’s overrun. I try to ignore him but can’t. I groan and pass through the “employees only” gate. I start pouring shots for the violently angry half of the bar Benny hasn’t gotten to in half an hour.

  After ten minutes, I’m caught up and the tips start rolling in. I wonder why I don’t do this more often.

  “Rainn!” I recognize that too-happy-to-see-me chirp. I look up. It’s Shelby.

  “Hey,” I respond as monotone as possible like that’ll balance her out or something.

  “Where have you been?” Her energy level doesn’t change at all, but she sounds a little mad now.

  “Uh, around.” I figure she means because we haven’t played a show here in way too long. Fucking groupies, making me feel better than I am, missing me, jerks.

  “I saw Jaselle yesterday,” she says.

  Stab of jealousy. Grit your teeth and absorb.

  “She looks like shit, Rainn. Why aren’t you with her? She needs you somethin’ bad.”

  Confusion scatters, reaching every corner of the brain. “Did she say that?”

  “She said you left her. She keeps saying that. ‘Rainn left me.’ For some guy? What the fuck, Rainn? I thought you were gay?”

  “Oh my fucking God. I am gay.”

  “Well, she says you left her for a guy.”

  What a sick interpretation. “I left her?”

  “That’s what she said. And that’s messed up, Rainn, you guys are perfect together. I was kind of mad at first ’cause you were supposed to marry me and all.” Shelby turns into a bad movie and looks into the distance. “Sing me to sleep…”

  “Shelby.”

  “Yeah, anyway, I don’t know what she did to you, but get over it and get back over there. She’s a damn mess.”

  “She told me to go.”

  “And you took her seriously? Rainn, no penis is worth messing up what you guys have.”

  “Enough with the penis crap,” I say.

  “I got a penis for you, sweetie.” Some jackass slobbers his way over Shelby’s shoulder. I ignore him.

  “I’m not fucking Jayden.”

  “You can fuck me.” I ignore the drunk asshole again. Shelby keeps pulling away from his lean so we’re side-stepping gradually down the bar.

  “She really thinks that?” I ask.

  “She seems to, yeah.”

  “Hey! Bitch! If you’re not going to do something with my dick at least get me a fucking beer.”

  Benny appears at my side like magic and slams his hand on the bar so hard Shelby and I jump. “Listen, fuck face.” He points a finger in fuck face’s face. “If I ever hear you talk to her like that again I’m going to cut your dick off, all right?”

  Fuck face turns into an ashen statue and retreats from the bar altogether. Benny grabs my arm and pulls me in the back where José is clanging away cleaning dishes.

  “Don’t let them talk to you like that. Not anyone,” he says. I just nod, stiff and still a little shocked.

  “I know you’re going over there,” he says. “I know that face.”

  I nod.

  “Be careful.” His eyes tear up.

  “Oh God, please don’t,” I say.

  “Just say you’ll be careful. Don’t drown in it. Come back sometimes, Rainn. Come up for air. Don’t let her consume you.”

  “I have to go. I have to make sure she’s okay.” I hate that I’m still being cold, but I know I can’t promise what he’s asking. I give him a long, firm hug and tuck the tips I’ve made into his shirt pocket. I don’t feel right keeping them. “I love you, Benny. Don’t worry.”

  Shelby gives me a ride, dropping me off outside Jaselle’s. Part of me can’t believe I’m here after I swore I wouldn’t come crawling back. I swore she’d have to come get me if she wanted me. She’d have to prove herself. It would have to be different. But if she needs me, she needs me.

  I wait until I can sneak in behind someone rather than buzz her. I let myself into the apartment. It’s the same as the day I left, but it feels foreign now. Why does that happen so fast? I hate the immediacy with which I live my life. Wherever I am, that’s all there is. Noah gestures for me to come into his room when he sees me. He closes his door behind me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his door closed before.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks.


  “Am I not welcome?”

  “Shut up, of course you are. But why would you want to be here? I thought you got out. I was a little proud of you.”

  “Got out?”

  “Of this.” He gestures at the walls of his room, but I know he means the entire apartment, this hellhole of a situation. “You don’t want to be here, with the drugs and the late nights, with her driving you crazy and me calling you an ignorant savage. Why are you here?”

  “Because I love her.”

  “Yeah, they all love her. She’s so mysterious, so dangerous, so…”

  “Real.”

  “But it’s not real, that’s exactly the problem. Nothing’s real. It’s all illusion, images in smoke.”

  “You’re acting stranger than I remember,” I say.

  “I don’t know if you want to see her like this, Rainn. It’s gotten worse since you left.”

  A stab of guilt. I left her when she needed me. She was drowning in the drug, and I was her last tie to the surface. And I left. She’s been picturing me with Jayden and the silence was too much. Don’t I know the feeling? Don’t I know waiting? Don’t I know silence? And don’t I know breathing in chemicals for the burn of melting flesh and organs disintegrating?

  “She needs me.”

  “Yeah, she does. But is this what you want for yourself?”

  “She needs me.” I separate the words for emphasis. Can’t he see that’s all that matters? I hear glass shatter on the other side of the apartment. I give Noah a slight scowl and go to her.

  She doesn’t notice me at first, but when she does her knees buckle and she bursts into tears. I kneel down beside her and gather her up. I cringe, almost pulling away from the feel of her protruding bones bending in my embrace. She’s dirty. I don’t imagine she’s showered in a while. There are cigarette burns all over her arms, self-inflicted. She’s so skinny. I feel her feeble rib cage threatening to break from the mere expansion of her lungs, and I know I could squeeze her to death without even trying. She’s so weak I cry.

  She cries and I cry, and I just want to hold her forever. Just let me take care of you. Let me help you back to life. Don’t you see you’re dying? My rebellious angel, just let me love you. I think this is the first time I’ve seen it, not the problem, not the use, not the pain, but the threat of death. It’s so real now, with her wheezing breaths, her pattering heart. What have you done?

  Chapter Eighteen

  I can’t undo the damage. She rages, breathing spider venom into my veins, and she’s the demon more and more. Her eyes are glass more and more, dark orbs without color, black expanding too far, all black, the demon exhales smoke. She hates me. She hates everything. Life has killed her.

  I’m the only one who dares stay in her reckless path, bound to her forever, addicted to her kiss and the way it destroys me, those glimpses of Jaselle still inside, bound and gagged, scared and crying while the meth eats her. And I stay for the moments she remembers she loves me. I breathe her in and pull so deep, and my cheeks are wet and she begs me don’t leave, don’t leave me alone with it. It’s alive. It whispers to her and the voices don’t stop, not even as I hold her, as I plead for her life, it feeds on her death. That’s what it wants, but not until it’s taken everything.

  I hold on to her, grabbing her golden gaze, her laugh and memories of times when love mattered, and I fight the battle she can’t. I carry her weight, even as the flame burns through and she screams for me to just stop. Just stop. Don’t leave me. Go away. I’m afraid. I want to just die. I need you. I’m so afraid.

  But death is quiet. Death is submersion into the water, finally beneath the waves that bash into you again and again, setback after setback, mouths full of salt and burning eyes. It’s so fun at first, but then frustrating, enraging, exhausting, unconquerable. Finally, submit. It’s so much easier to submit.

  It’s Jaselle speaking. It’s not the demon this time, but it’s winning. She’s closing her eyes, and her fight is gone. Life will happen until death does, and she wants the quiet. I’m the pleading that won’t stop. I’m the last siren going off. Her muted instincts don’t care anymore. I have replaced them, that useless voice telling her to live just because. Why? Because. You have to. Live.

  And the demon screams, just shut up! And it strikes me, swift shock and Jaselle cries. And another inhale, hot foil and black spots, spots like her eyes, burned out, windows no more.

  Guilt owns me. It never ends, never fades, never easy, not to forget that she became this when I left. Because I left? Warm in the self-value? The proof of love? Or dead in the guilt? “You left,” the demon whispers. You left her; now she’s mine. She smoked and smoked, and she breathes it so easy, silk death. This is your doing. You left when she needed you, and she burned every rock in sight and pictured you on top of him, and she felt his hips digging bruises into your thighs while you wept in an alley.

  Yes, the demon hates you. No, the demon is pure indifference. It’s Jaselle who hates you, Jaselle who loves you, Jaselle who cares that you left her, Jaselle who was alone without you, Jaselle gasping for breath ever since you let her go under.

  Jayden calls, and he calls again, and it looks like what she thought. He seems the broken lover, and it’s not your phone to silence. And he’s not your enemy to kill. He’s just confusion the demon is using. And now you’ve lost a friend because she can’t watch you call him; she won’t understand. And you must undo what you’ve done. You will remind her what it’s like to trust and to love. You will wait.

  He calls again, and you watch yourself lose ground. And she’s distant again. She’s impossible again, forever licensed to hurt you at will because you hurt her. “How did his dick taste?”

  “We’re just friends. We’ve never done anything.” Nothing matters. Nothing sinks in. And she’s using again. She’s dying again. She’s crying again. She’s screaming again. She’s sick again. She’s shaking again. You’re on the curb again, buying the drug you desperately want her off of, selling your soul for a bag the size of a quarter because she’s dying without it. She’ll fall asleep in your arms and the shallow breaths will just stop. You pick change out of the gutter. You rip off the kids selling lemonade who can’t count change. You wish you kept the tips from bartending instead of turning them in to Benny. You let the creepy guy outside Walgreens touch your hair. And you go back to her. She’s in the same spot because she’s too weak to move.

  Her thumb is shaking on the lighter. Ah, that feels so much better. She’s on top of the world again. Nothing has changed, but nothing matters. And she wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer, kisses your cheek. “I love you, Rainn. Never leave me? I love you so much.” And nothing has changed, but nothing matters.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I hear the door to the apartment close, but Jaselle doesn’t appear. I get up and go down the hallway to find her. Her back is to the door. She’s breathing hard. It doesn’t take much to exhaust her anymore, but this looks different.

  “Baby?” I ask. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes flash to mine like she hadn’t realized I was here. Her gaze jumps around. She can’t settle on any one thing. She looks scared, I realize. I go to her and touch her cheek.

  Paranoia is a common symptom of methamphetamine addiction, or so Google tells me, along with irresponsibility, loss of appetite, child neglect, criminal activity, intense rages that often lead to violence, and suicidal tendencies. Thank you, Google.

  I’ve never been much of a researcher. I guess worrying has turned me into one. Only a fucking moron could really think they’ll find all the answers on the internet, but I tried.

  “Sweetie?”

  She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes. She stays there, clinging on like a child. I hold her and wait for whatever is going on to pass. Is she just paranoid? Are the cops really coming after her? Or maybe someone else? Is she hearing voices? It’s impossible to know.

  What Google doesn’t tell you is what your symptoms will
be once you’ve fallen in love with a methamphetamine addict: paranoia, irresponsibility, loss of appetite, intense rages that often lead to violence, insomnia, uncontrollable urges to stalk said methamphetamine addict.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I pull her face away from my shoulder and wipe away tears. There’s a deep shadow below her eye. I touch it. She winces. “What happened to you?”

  She pulls away. “I’m okay.”

  “Jaselle.” I reach out for her again. I’m shocked she lets me. “Who did this to you?”

  There’s a knock on the door. She jumps and presses against me, hard. It’s the most strength I’ve seen her exhibit since I’ve been back. I try to lean forward to look out the peephole. My heart is pounding. I wonder if she can feel it the way I can feel hers.

  She pushes against me, preventing me from reaching the peephole. “No.”

  “Baby, what’s going on? Who is it? Tell me.”

  She bursts into tears.

  “Jaselle.” I grab her face and force her to look at me. “Jaselle, breathe.”

  “Don’t.” She clings to me.

  “I’m here, okay? I’m here. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  She doesn’t answer. I let her stay glued to me, but muscle past her attempts to stop me. I look through the peephole, then back at her.

  “It’s Jayden,” I say.

  Her tears dry. Her back straightens, and I’m not sure if I ever saw the fear at all. “What the hell is he doing here? Did you invite him here?”

  “No.”

  “I can hear you guys talking,” Jayden says through the door. “Morons.”

  Jaselle and I are stuck staring at one another. I don’t want this to turn into a fight, but he’s here, on the doorstep. I do the only thing I know to do. I open the door. Jaselle scowls and walks away.

  Jayden’s Mohawk isn’t spiked. I can’t read his expression. I don’t know if he’s perfected his iron stare or if I’ve just forgotten the subtleties of his face that give him away.

  “What are you doing here?” It seems cold, like I’ve evolved into a heartless shell, but that’s a pretty standard question when someone shows up unexpectedly, isn’t it?