In Case of Loss

I was dark when I walked home that night. The clouds had eclipsed the moon and the streetlights were dimmed by overgrowth. The narrow road wound atop of the gorge and was lined simply by an old stone wall. I stopped on the bridge and watched the raindrops soldier solemnly into the stationary water below. It was soberly peaceful. I felt blissfully alone.

When I arrived home, Aiden was there. He was sitting in the dark and said nothing.

“How did that make you feel?” interjected the psychiatrist.

“Aiden is fiery. I always feel scared when Aiden is home.” I replied.

I put my bag down and hung my jacket. It was soaked. I was soaked. And cold. I didn’t want to disturb Aiden so rather than turn on the bright ceiling lights I lit a dim candle instead. I moved the candle to the corner of the kitchen and sat on the floor beside it. The glass doors were behind me and I pulled a blanket to my chin to warm up. Aiden didn’t move. I felt relieved.

The wind had started to pick up. Outside the treetops were swaying and whispering to each other. The fallen leaves were anxiously hurrying along the ground. The fence posts started to rattle. I watched as the old swing thrashed itself around uneasily.

When I looked back inside Aiden was standing over the sink. He must have noticed me watching him because he picked up my pills and slammed them back down onto the counter. He cracked his fingers and strode over towards me.

“This is your fault,” he sneered, forcing the words out between his teeth. I looked up at him to see his eyes narrowing. He kicked the candle over. It fell and the flame withered away, drowning in the melted wax.

“I know,” I said, pulling the blanket up a little closer to my face. I didn’t know. I didn’t know if it was my fault. I didn’t even know what I was accepting the blame for.

He half threw, half dropped some money into my lap, shrugged and said, “it’s $20,000. She left it for you.”

He started to walk away, almost calmly, but then he turned back. He kicked the candle again, clenched his fists and swung them wildly at the wall.

I looked down at the money. It seemed like a lot.

“The money was Diane’s you know. She left it for you but it’s your fault she’s gone.”

I clenched the blanket tightly. It had been a long time since Diane had been in the house. She had been divine and ethereal. When she left, I thought she would return. But the days had turned into weeks and now eleven months had passed. Sometimes I could hear her voice faintly but I could no longer see her face. I remember she had been stunning and sweet but not much more.

I felt a burning sensation welling up inside me.

“AHHH!” I screamed as I stood up, my hands tightening. I felt suddenly fierce and slowly I shrieked into his face, “Go away Aiden!”

“And he just left?” asked the psychologist.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you ever let him stay?”

“He feels familiar.”

It wasn’t until much later that night that I saw Aiden again. After he left, I had drifted off and fallen asleep in the kitchen. When he returned, he kicked me and I woke, startled. He was clenching my pill bottle. It was empty.

“I got rid of these for us.” Aiden stated in his thundering voice. He threw the empty bottle at me and I ducked in time for it to miss my head.

“Oh no. No no no.” I panicked. I scrambled out from under the covers and took the bottle. “No Aiden. I need those.”

As a sort of waking stretch, I rubbed my temple with my fingertips and then hurried around the kitchen searching for refills. If Diane had of been there, she would have been so calm. I could hear her leading me away and faintly calling for me to lie down peacefully. But I couldn’t go. I needed to find my refills. My heart was beating so quickly I could feel it bursting out of my chest. I must have opened every cupboard before clambering up to the top shelf and retrieving the extra bottle I had carefully hidden away. A wave of relief washed over me.

“You only have the money because Diane is gone.” Aiden stated.

“I know.”

I was more effective with Diane gone. She could no longer tempt me into spending countless hours in her world. I could work and it was making a living for us. I had saved up $20,000 in the last eleven months. It felt peaceful. It felt empty. I wouldn’t have traded her for the money if I had known.

“So, what will you do with the money?” asked the psychiatrist.

“I gave it back to Diane.”

“The money is still in your bag.”

“The bag is Diane’s.”

Aiden was pacing back and forth. He drummed his knuckles on the kitchen countertop. He seemed bothered and anxious. Behind us the golden glow of day break was starting to flood the kitchen as the sun crept up over the horizon. I felt brave, like a leader, like a queen.

I stood up taller and reached for the pill bottle behind Aiden.

“Neida,” cried Aiden, “when you take those pills you lose us. You think you can always find us. But you can’t. And now Diane is gone.” There was an unusual sense of panic in Aiden’s bellowing voice.

“Lie down and be calm,” Diane’s voice floated through my thoughts. “Leave the pills and come to the meadows with me.”

I clutched tightly to the pill bottle underneath the counter. Aiden was desperate. He reached across the countertop and grabbed a kitchen knife. He charged towards me and I stumbled backwards. He lunged again and I ducked.

“AHHHHH!” I screamed, “Go away Aiden!”

Aiden shrank back and drew in a big slow breath. It was a breath of defeat. “Its not just Diane, Neida. If you keep taking those pills, you’ll lose me too. You’ll lose the psychiatrist. You’ll lose us all.”

The psychiatrist sighed and put down his small black notebook. It was open, the pages lying flat between us. He pulled the bookmark ribbon across his handwritten scrawls and paused. Slowly, he lowered his pen to rest on top of the notebook and looked in the mirror.

“In case of loss,” I replied, “I’ll find you in this notebook.” I closed it, pulled the elastic over the black cover and released the voices in my head as I took my morning pills.