by Amanda Heath
When I finally got into Sarah’s car, she wouldn’t let up with the questions but I ignored her. The only thing I could concentrate on was one of his last remarks. There are two of you? To this day I don’t know what he meant by that.
Three
Farah
She’s here again.
My dead sister.
Sarah walks the halls of her house like she’s still alive. It’s so fucking creepy. I don’t know how to react to any of this. I follow her with my eyes because there’s no one paying attention to me right now. She looks different here than she did at the hospital. She’s wearing her favorite jeans and her pink V-neck long sleeve shirt. Max loves that outfit on her. He usually looks at her with so much heat while she’s wearing it. He’s not now because he can’t see her.
I’m starting to think I’m more on the crazy side rather than this being my sister’s actual ghost. Blake is here and he’s a kid. I thought kids could see things we couldn’t but he doesn’t look up at his mother when she squats next to him.
I didn’t know a three year old could be sad. I thought they ran on two emotions. Happy and angry. His tiny little shoulders are lowered and his eyes are red rimmed. It hurts so fucking much to look at him. But I can’t look away as Sarah reaches out and smoothes the hair out of his face. Of course his hair doesn’t move because Sarah isn’t real.
Fuck, I’m so crazy.
We left the hospital a couple of hours ago. There simply wasn’t a need to be there anymore. Sarah wasn’t going to walk out of there. No, she’s leaving in a funeral home van. Along with my infant niece, who I never got to hold. Who Sarah never got to hold.
My eyes dried up a long time ago. I simply have no tears left to give. I’m probably dehydrated after all the liquid that came out of my eyes. Max has stopped leaking as well. That was surreal to see. I thought my brother-in-law couldn’t even cry.
He didn’t when Sarah walked down the aisle, I know, because I was watching him.
Though he did when Blake was born; I know, I was there in the room when they told Max that Sarah and Blake would be fine. I’ll give him that one. Blake was a miracle.
Death must have that affect on even the hardest men. You lose the one you love the most and it’s okay to cry. Pops was the same way. Never cried a day in his adult life except when Gran died. Bawled like a fucking baby. But then again, everyone bawled like a baby when she died.
I close my eyes, blocking out those thoughts of my Gran. I loved her; everyone loved her. But her death wasn’t a good time in my life.
My mother moves off the couch where she’s been sobbing into my father’s arms. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. That has to be worse than losing your spouse.
She stands up and moves past me, never even looking in my direction. That’s been a thing for a long, long time. I think she likes to think I don’t even exist. It would probably be easier that way, if I didn’t exist.
Max’s jaw clenches, I see it out of the corner of my eye because I’m keeping a close eye on him. No one has needed me in a long time and right now, he definitely needs me. I want to be there for him, Sarah would want me to be there for him.
His brown eyes follow my mother and he looks really pissed off. I don’t understand it at all. I thought they got along. Everyone loves Nancy Gentry. Well…except me.
And on that thought, I burst up from my seat. This is all too much. Sitting in here with all these people, half who don’t even like me. Max’s head sharply turns towards me but I don’t meet his eyes. I bend down to kiss Blake on his beautiful little head and head for the front door.
I need a fucking cigarette. I quit smoking years ago, but I still need one when I stress out. I bought a pack at the gas station, a block from the hospital, while Sarah was still in surgery.
I step out of Max and Sarah’s little house and walk down the front path to the curb. Sarah is right behind me, giving me this disappointed face. This makes me snort, considering she’s dead and I’m out here feeling guilty because this figment of my imagination doesn’t like what I’m doing.
I flip her off and pull the pack out of my jacket pocket. I’ve been wearing this thing since we left the house yesterday. I never even took it off in the hospital and I don’t know why. It’s not even that cold outside today.
I put the smoke I just dragged out of the pack to my mouth and dig out my lighter. Then I light it and take a deep drag. The smoke burns my throat and I welcome it. Fuck this day. Fuck this week. Fuck this month. One bad thing after another just keeps happening and I have no idea what to do about any of it.
I don’t know if I can stay here with Max and Blake. I know his parents, along with mine, will help with Blake, especially when Max has to work. I can always bunk with Pops since his ass lives in the middle of nowhere. At least I’m not completely homeless.
My job isn’t going to like this. I was already on the verge of getting fired. When Tate left, I think I lost an important part of myself. I wasn’t the same, haven’t been the same. My boss doesn’t like that much. I guess my customers want to see me smiling while I touch, cut and color their hair. When in fact, it brings me no joy whatsoever.
Then there is Tate himself. He’s coming here and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it. I can’t keep him from his brother and nephew but I want to. I feel like I should get them in the divorce considering he up and left without much notice.
He told Max. Max then decided this information wasn’t something I needed to hear. I mean why wasn’t I important enough to know my boyfriend of a year was moving away? Why wasn’t I good enough for him? Why did I have to suffer because Tate wasn’t man enough to admit he didn’t love me?
I don’t give one flying fuck what that man says. You don’t leave someone you love, with no notice. You don’t fucking rip their fucking heart out for no goddamn reason. That’s not love. That’s indifference.
I take another huge drag off my smoke and stare at the street in front of me. I’m twenty-six years old. Up until six hours ago I had a beautiful twin sister who made me feel like the most special person alive. I have no boyfriend. No children. Probably no job when I don’t show up in thirty minutes for work.
I. Have. Nothing.
Sarah comes to sit beside me and it’s so hard not to lean my head on her imaginary shoulder. She was always there for me. No matter what. She loved me unconditionally. She was the only person who ever did. I could fuck up so bad and she would answer the phone in the middle of the night and fix everything.
I take another drag off my cigarette, letting the smoke come out of my nose. The sting feels so good because the only other thing I feel is grief. God I feel so much grief. It’s choking me on the inside, twisting my organs to make room like it wants to stay for a good long while.
Sarah reaches up and her arm moves up and down behind my back. I guess she’s trying to rub my back but I don’t feel it.
The front door opens, startling me. I blink a few times and ignore my sister. I look behind me to see Max coming outside with no shoes on. “You should put on some shoes,” I say without thought. I have this problem with trying to take care of those I love.
I don’t love Max but Sarah did, and that means something to me.
He clears his throat and looks down. “Would you think I’m insane if I said the cold pavement is the only thing I can feel right now?”
I give it some thought. Obviously, since I’m seeing my dead sister, I’m no one to talk about who’s insane and who isn’t. I shake my head and turn back to the road. I don’t really want company right now.
He doesn’t seem to understand that right now, but Max doesn’t usually understand anything. He sits down right where his dead wife is sitting and I flinch, even though I know she isn’t really here.
I pull more smoke into my lungs and ignore him. Max usually does all the speaking for both of us anyway. “Sarah would have a shit fit if she saw you right now.”
I just nod because that’s true.
He sighs and then puts his head in his hands. I think he’s going to start crying again and it freaks me out. I hate comforting people because I never say the right thing. “You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, right?”
I choke on my next hit and glare at him. “What? When did you hurt me?”
“When Tate left.” He rubs his hands up and down his face. I hear his stubble scratch his skin. “Sarah was so pissed at me. Said I hurt you and she couldn’t forgive that.” He lets out a dry laugh. “You could do anything to that girl, anything and she would forgive you. But if someone hurt you, she’d never forgive them. The two of you, you had this amazing relationship the rest of us only wished we had with someone.”
This statement breaks me. And the tears I didn’t think I had left leak out of my sore eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice because he keeps right on talking. “Tate called her once, after he left. He wanted to know how you were doing. She ripped him a new one over the phone. I’d never heard her talk to someone like that before. Not even me, when I didn’t tell you he was leaving.” He reaches out and touches my shoulder. I don’t look at him though, I refuse. “I didn’t know what to do, Farah. I didn’t know he would leave you like that. I honestly thought he was going to take you with him.”
Like that is an excuse for either of their actions.
I use my hand to wipe my tears away. “I would have done the same thing for Sarah. Don’t beat yourself up about it anymore. All of that is on Tate anyway.”
“You know he’s coming, right?” He says this gruffly, like it makes him uncomfortable.
I nod again, because saying yes right now would kill me.
Done with this conversation I get up off the curb, tossing my smoke onto the street. Max looks up at me and I stare down at him. I guess I wasn’t done like I thought I was. “I’ll be here for you. I’d do anything for Sarah, even in death. And she’d want me to be here for you and for Blake.”
Max takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I know that.” Then his brown eyes look away from me and out to the street. “You’ll check out though. You’ll be here, but you won’t.”
I look at him a moment longer before turning away and heading back into the house. He’s right of course. I’ll check out the second my head hits a pillow. When I wake up I’ll just be an empty husk filled with nothing but horrible, dark feelings. The woman I was before today, she’s dead.
Tate
I pull my bike up outside of my little brother’s house. The bike I had my Dad drop off at the airport for me. Beth hates it, so I left it in my dad’s safe keeping.
I hate to say I’m a little apprehensive to be here. Farah is in that house. My little brother is in there. They are going through a whole lot and I’ve never done real well with hard emotion.
It’s this love though, the love in my heart that I don’t even want there. I spent most of the past fourteen years hating Maxwell. It’s horrible to say that. But I’ve been in this place so long; it’s hard to get out of it. What did he do to deserve it? Not a fucking thing. That’s what makes me a horrible person. The things I have done and the things I’ve lied about, it sets me apart from those two.
My wife, Beth, isn’t happy at all that I’m here. She thinks I’m coming here to get Farah back. She can’t seem to comprehend that my little brother might actually need me. I don’t know how I can even be there for him really. If my wife died, I’d be sad because I love her, but it’s not the kind of love I have for Farah. My love for her consumes me sometimes. It makes me do everything I can to ruin it.
I tried it for a year. I tried and I failed to get better. To find a way to love her without being an asshole. It was never her though, it was always me. I’m the one with the deep-seated issues. Losing Sky, the first woman I ever loved, it fucked me up more than I could ever imagine. It’s like I can’t be happy without her and I have to destroy everyone around me.
I climb off the bike and take off my helmet. I love this bike almost as much as I love my daughter. Kaley, though, she’s the entire world to me. I haven’t found a way to ruin her life and I know in my heart, I never will. She doesn’t touch that part of me and I’ll keep it that way until way after I’m dead.
The white paneling and black shutters stare back at me while I walk up the front path. There’s a tiny porch with barely any room to move around and I climb the two steps to knock on the door. I don’t wait for anyone to come and answer, I just open the door and head inside.
I feel it immediately, the grief and death in the air. It’s almost a physical thing. I feel like I could reach out and touch it. Max sits on the couch with Blake playing quietly at his feet. It’s fairly early in the morning so I’m surprised to see them both awake. I thought for sure it would be Vivien I encountered first. The woman grates on my nerves but she’s a good woman. A good mom to my brother and a good wife to my father. She’s even a good stepmom even though I’d never tell her that.
“Tatum. It’s good to see you.” Speak of the devil. Vivien comes out of the kitchen and wraps her arms around me. I take in the familiar almond nut smell of her perfume and I almost sigh. She’s the only mother that’s ever hugged me because I can’t tell you the last time I saw my mother in person. I talk to her on the phone quite often but I haven’t seen her in years.
“You too, Vi,” I say softly, patting her on the back. “I wish it wasn’t because of this.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” she murmurs and I know her eyes are on her son and her grandson.
We let go of each other and move towards my little brother and my nephew. Blake looks at me but he doesn’t say anything. He and I haven’t spent much time together ever. He spent time with Kaley when she still lived in the area but he never spent time with me.
“Tate,” Maxwell says, looking at me with glossy eyes and a sneer on his mouth. I haven’t spoken to him since I left Farah all those weeks ago. I know he’s pissed but he’s just as fucked as me. He didn’t tell her I was leaving. And I know it’s because he didn’t want her to follow me.
“Maxwell.” I sit down next to him but I don’t make a move to hug him or shake his hand. While we were once close, we were never affectionate towards each other. I’ve never been affectionate towards anyone but my daughter. Vivien had gotten a few hugs here and there. Farah got the most after Sky, but that was usually in bed.
“See you decided to show your face. Guess you have balls after all,” he tells me, never even looking in my direction.
“Where else am I supposed to be?” I ask, wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks. I know it might be strange that I wear these clothes and own a motorcycle but I have to say there is nothing freer than having the wind in your hair and that motor between your thighs. I missed it while I was gone.
Max finally looks over at me. “Probably with that bitch you call a wife.”
I don’t get mad at him for calling her a bitch. She is one but, then again, she’s much more than that. “She wasn’t happy I came back. I wanted to be here for you, though. Whether you wanted me or not.”
Max shrugs. “I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except Blake.”
I open my mouth to say something else but Farah’s parents move into the living room and I grimace. It’s gotta suck for Farah that they are here. She can’t stand them and I don’t blame her. Sarah and Farah had sick luck with parents. Luckily they had their grandparents, otherwise I think they both might have lost their minds and turned into the woman who is smiling sweetly at me.
“Max, we’ve decided we’re going to ask Farah to leave. It has to be hard for you that she’s here,” Nancy Gentry says and I feel a fist clench against my leg.
Max clears his throat and doesn’t even bother looking at them. “Why don’t you two leave? I think that might be better for me.”
Nancy narrows her eyes. I choke back a laugh. I’ve never heard anyone talk to her like that. “I know you’re hurting right now, so I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
> “Pretend all you like. Sarah’s gone now, I don’t have to be nice to your sick and twisted ass.” He stands up and picks up Blake. Then he sits back down. I guess he’s trying to protect him from those assholes.
I know he’s about to let out a verbal smack down but Farah appears at the top of the stairs, a bag in her hand. Her eyes widen when they meet mine. It hurts, it hurts so fucking bad. Looking at her is like scalding myself with boiling hot water. I want to rush to her, kiss her and tell her everything is going to be okay, but I can’t do that.
I’m not the man for her and I never was.
Farah
I know for a while that when I wake up, I’ll still think she’s alive. I went through this before, when my Gran died. My eyes will open and I’ll be happy for all of ten seconds before it’ll hit me.
My sister, my best friend, my other half, is gone.
She’ll no longer be there to catch me when I fall. I’ll never see her smiling face when I walk in her front door. She’ll never answer her phone again offering me all the advice she can, good or bad. She’ll never hold me again when I’m so fucking sad I can’t keep it in anymore. I’ll never call her again in the middle of the night, wishing for a second I was normal and not needing her to reassure me.
And with that thought I don’t move out of my bed at Max and Sarah’s house. I just lay there in a fog. I’m lost, broken, hurt and full of despair. How do I go on? How?
There’s no fucking answer to that question.
About an hour after I wake up, I get up to use the bathroom. I’ve been holding it since I woke up. I would rather get up and go than have to get up and change the sheets because I wet the bed.
When I open the door to go out into the hall I pause because I hear voices. My parents to be exact.
“What do you want me to do with her Nancy? I can’t force her to leave, this is where she lives.” My father’s deep voice echoes down the short hallway.
