Mare Moody - [blank]

"1st and Washington"

My mouth shudders when I say this but I need this. I need it. I want it. I have avoided this but I know is the best place for me to go right now.

The cab sways and my stomach starts to ache. I can't feel any of my nerves other than the damaged ones. My body has always betrayed me. I know it will continue to so I let it happen. I breathe with the beat of the Earth. My life wire has snapped and all that remains is my broken conscious. There is nothing feasible in me any longer.

The cab stops and I immediately step out. I stand across the step. His porch light is still on. One step in front of the other. I feel my brain moving my feet and overriding my heart. I grab the railing and it leads me up his stairs. I can feel my steps. One. One. One.

I take a deep breath.

Good.

I put my hand on the doorknob. The cold metal sends a shiver through my body. My fingers grip it and I attempt to turn it. It doesn't move. It is locked. I walk down the steps and around the house. A large cedar tree lies between his house and his neighbors. A bird feeder rest tranquility on the lowest branch. The wood is carved into a boat with perches the shape of oars. Long rows are carved over the basin of seeds. Underneath the body of the feeder lies a trap door. It opens with a simple turn of a hook. I take hold of the boat and turn the bottom hook. The door falls but is caught by its hinge. The seeds, however, have no savior. They plummet towards the Earth. They fall in a straight stream. The grass absorbs their impact and they bounce in assorted direction across his land.

I put three fingers into the trap door and feel around. Then the metal hits my ring finger. I immediately grab for it and pull it out. The key pulls out of the boat with ease. When I have reached the object of my desire, I close the trap door and lock it again. Only few seeds remain in the feeder. I would be upset but it was gravity's choice, not mine.

I walk away carefully away. I can feed the seeds cracking against my shoes as I walk through the grass. I make my way back to his door and insert the key. It is covered in natural dust from the seeds and leaves a white powder on my hands. I turn the key and the door opens for me. I open it and it creaks. My feet are relieved as I feel his soft rug.

Almost there.

I follow the voices. I ignored them but now I know where I need to go and they are exactly correct. I walk to his staircase. The smell of the oak wood is a pleasant memory for me. I follow it up. I continue on. I remember coming to his house late at night. I would come feel his love. I was so wrong. He did love me. And I love him. I feel the voices take over my entire body and I let them. Anything they say is no longer a suggestion, it is acted on without my brains permission. But my meager mind has given up and hope, therefore gives up its control. It is a sad exchange but a needed deal. This is the only way it should go. The only way I should go.

My hand drags on his railing. The rough wood is only a few years away from giving me splinters. I invite it to try to reach me for that long. As long as I control it, a few years won't be in my near future. I walk through to the top of the landing and immediately turn into his room. The door opens as it always has for me. I look around the room. He isn't asleep on his bed. He is gone. I pray he comes back. Maybe he will find me here.

I walk over to the wall and place my shaking hands on it. I run my fingers along the edges of the wallpaper. I must make the most of my senses while I still have them. I smell the room. His aroma lingers in the thick musky air. I urge it closer to me. My hand moves to my stomach and I rub it.

"This is your father's house."

I walk to his bed, massaging my little joy. I sit down on it and fill my body sink into the mattress. This feeling is so familiar. My memories that have negative tints completely fade when I close my eyes and breathe in his life. It is the most surreal feeling. True ecstasy.

I open my eyes and analyze his room one more time. My eyes connect with his window curtain. I get off of the bed and walk the few steps to it. On the curtain rod lies a rope. A simple decor to accent the bland curtains. I reach up and grab the end of the rope. I pull it down and it hits the floor. I gather it and get back on the bed.

Start with a lope.

I begin to sing.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry,"

Tie it around twice.

"Momma's gonna sing you,"

Pull it through.

"A lullaby."

I stand and pull the rope around the ceiling fan. I tie it securely. On the edge of the bed, I stand. One jump. I put my hand on my stomach. Tears fill my eyes. My father's words echo in my ears. "It runs in the family.” Visions of my mother's shredded wrists clog my brain. I'm so sorry, my child.

I'm so sorry.

I get on my tip toes and prepare to jump.

I'm so sorry.

My ears ring.

I can't do it.

You need to do it.

I know.

Then why not?

I feel myself begin to fall. I hear a loud bang over the ringing in my ears.

"ANA!"

My fall accelerates and I expect to feel the emptiness that awaits me. I prepare to let it take me. But I feel warmth. I feel skin. Somebody is pushing me into the upright position.

I feel my feet hit the bed again and the noose being slipped off of my neck. There are spots in my eyes so I can't see clearly. The person is crying. I can feel their sobs against my chest when they pick me up and take me off of the bed.

My vision begins to clear when they place me gently on the floor. I look up. Tears fill my eyes as I see Noah. He came to save me.

"I couldn't do it," I cry out to him.

"I know," he shushes me.

He knees down and rubs his hand across my sweaty hair. He attempts to console me even though I know that he is one that needs to be consulted.

"I'm so sorry." I grow more upset. I almost killed his child. I almost killed my child. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He shushes me more. He puts his arms over me and pulls my body towards him.

"It's ok," he says gently, “just breathe."

I nod my head through the tears. He hugs me tighter. My hand reaches to his shirt and grabs a handful of the fabric. I breathe in his scent. Every part of him is calming my congested brain. I can feel his warmth and his vivacity. I want it. I need it. The sobs get more intense.

"I love you," I cry into his white shirt. I really mean it. I love him. I love his sure smile. I love the way his hair reflects in the sunlight. I love the softness of his fingertips. I love his respectful attitude. I love his love for life. I love his dedication for others. I love him.

"I love you too," he says.

These words bring a warmth to my heart that hadn't existed after our argument.

"How did you know where I was?" My voice trembles. Noah pulls out of the hug and gestures to the doorway. Tabitha stands in the door frame. Tears stream down her face. He waves at me lightly. She smiles through the pain and wipes her tears. She doesn't want to show me that she is upset. Then it hits me. Noah is in Kane's house. Does he know? Did Tabitha tell him?

"Do you know about him?" I ask. I intend to make the question ambiguous. If he understands my context, he will answer. If he has no context, he will ask what I mean.

He slowly nods his head.

"Yeah, I do." He looks around the room and sighs deeply. I wonder how much Tabitha knows and how much she told him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I cry, "I didn't want to be reminded and have to think about him whenever I talked-"

I am cut off my Noah pressing his finger to my lips.