Brazen

CRASH!

Liquor rots at the bottom of my stomach.

Shards of glass explode around the room.

Outrage bubbles inside me.

I stagger, and my hands hit the floor.

Has it been two or three days since I identified the lifeless body of my best friend?

Blood colors the scattered pieces of the broken bottle on the floor.

The whiskey makes everything a blur.

I can’t feel anything but the fury in the form of alcohol and pain running through my veins. The good memories of Sunday feel so far away, buried under twisted, ugly hostility. I’ve shut everything out.

My mom.

Noah.

Anything good.

Right now, as I crawl on my hands and knees on my bedroom floor, I wonder if I’ll ever remember happiness again. It seems unlikely as my stomach rolls, and the smell of copper grows stronger beneath me.

“Brazen!” Noah shrieks my name as she enters my room.

I just give up. My heavy body hits the floor, and my nose collides with the hard surface beneath me.

“Get out.” Despite how hard I force out the words, they come out jumbled and slurred. I don’t want anyone near me, not even Noah, especially not her. I want to be left alone in my drunken grief.

Don’t touch me.

Don’t speak to me.

Please, don’t comfort me.

Just go away.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her hands assess me, checking on the damage I’ve done, and I recoil away from the careful affection.

“You’re bleeding. I need to get you cleaned up.”

“Noah!” I push out her name, and it still sounds like one mangled syllable. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help. Leave me the fuck alone.” My hand slams against the floor, and I finally feel something.

An intense sting of agony hits me as glass lodges deeper into my skin.

She ignores me, which fans my irritation.

My knees buckle as I attempt to rise and run from her touch, and a grunt of frustration rips from my throat. Spit flies from my mouth and mixes with my blood on the floor. I want to lie here in my own misery, and Noah will only prevent that.

Sunday is gone.

She’s dead.

I’ll never see her again.

Noah’s arms hug around my chest, and she attempts to heave me from the floor while huffs of strained air push from her lips. “Brazen, I can’t lift you. I need you to work with me. I need to get you away from all the glass. Please, help me help you.”

“It hurts, Noah.” Tears cascade from my eyes, and I’m embarrassed by my weakness.

“Brazen, you’re covered in glass. Of course it hurts! Please get up!”

“It isn’t the glass. That isn’t what I’m saying.” I’m not surprised she can’t understand my garbled speech. “He killed her, Noah. She was supposed to escape, and I let him get to her.”

Fire burns down my cheeks as more tears are spilled.

Weak.

Pathetic.

I don’t deserve Noah’s kindness.

I should be gone instead of Sunday. I’d give anything . . .

“Baby, please . . .” Fear and sorrow choke her voice. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

I’m so deep in my own emotions as the alcohol clouds my mind that I can’t even bring myself to want to end Noah’s panic. “I can’t do this.”

Any of it.

All of it.

I just want to lie here and let everything come to an end.

Life.

Love.

Pain.

Loss.

It hurts too fucking much.

“You can, Brazen. You’re strong, and I’m here when things start to get too heavy.”

“Too heavy?” My eyes cross as laughter rips from my chest. “You don’t think things are already heavy, Noah? I lost my best fucking friend. Don’t you think that’s enough to kill me? You can’t help me. No one can. Can you bring her back? Can you find Matt? Can you do anything besides hover over me?” My voice carries louder with each sentence, and suddenly, I have the strength to stand. I sway on my feet as I look down at the unwavering girl in front of me, who doesn’t blink an eye at my crazed hollering.

“You get one pass, Brazen. ONE. To talk to me the way you just did—that’s it. Do it again, and you’ll find out what it’s really like to suffer through this alone. You’re hurting, and I love you, so I’m giving you this one pass, but you won’t use me as your punching bag to get through your grief. Are we understood?” She crosses her arms and waits sternly for an answer.

I don’t give her one.

One step, and I’m falling to the floor. In my inebriated state, my limbs don’t support my weighted stature. I close my eye and brace for impact. Before I kiss the ground once more, my decline is stopped midway when I fall into Noah’s open arms. Breath wheezes from her as I barrel into her chest and knock the air from her lungs. My feet drag, and I struggle to open my heavy eyes.

“Just go,” I whisper. “Let me fall.”

I’m too weak to escape her grasp as I beg for her to leave.

“Never. I love you, even at your worst.” Her voice is so much stronger than mine.

Dark.

The room starts to spin.

Dark.

My body moves without my power.

Dark.

I see a glimpse of my unshowered, battered body in the bathroom mirror as I somehow enter the bathroom.

Dark.

I bounce in and out of drunken consciousness.

I pray for the darkness to take me and sheath me in its numb oblivion.

Drifting.

Further.

Deeper.

Darker.

The torment of reality is gone for only a second before I’m hit in the face.

Literally, water rushes at me from the showerhead and disrupts my stupor.

My hand grips at the side of the tub, and air bursts from my mouth as Noah comes back into view, this time much clearer than she was before I started to pass out.

Dread anchors my heart as I see her, covered in blood, and I’m frantically moving.

Suddenly, I sober up significantly.

“Noah!” The wet sports shorts on my bottom half slow me down as I reach my hand to her face. “What happened, baby? Are you okay? Who hurt you? Oh, fuck! Did I … oh, shit … did I do this?” A stinging pain hits me as my body twists, and only then do I realize I’m covered in blood also.

“Shh.” Noah pushes my shoulders back. “Calm down, Brazen. You have glass everywhere. I’m not hurt. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. You would never. The blood is yours.”

I look down, and my sight lingers on my blood-covered hands.

All at once, I’m aware of the glass shredding my skin.

Red mixes with the water soaking the bottom of the tub.

“Noah!” My voice breaks as I call out to her.

I need her. I need her so fucking bad.

“She’s gone, Noah! She’s gone!” How can this be happening? Please wake me from this disaster of a fucked up realm of existence where Sunday no longer exists. My body shakes, and my heart hammers.

Noah grabs some tweezers from the medicine cabinet and fully clothed, she climbs into the tub with me. Water rains down on us both as my blood stains her clothes once more.

Nothing has ever hurt like this. There is so much loss inside my soul.

“I love you, Brazen.” Her lips press against my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

My foggy head aches, and my stomach threatens a revolt, which I gag as I choke back. The day’s worth of drinking catches up to me, and the hours of running from what’s happened come crashing down hard.

“Sunday wouldn’t want this for you.” Noah tends to my many wounds.

“Does it really matter what she’d want?” I lie helpless in a lump in the tub.

“Brazen! Of course it does. It matters now just as much as it ever did.”

“You should leave me, Noah. You deserve better than the man I am right now.” A shudder runs through me as I make the admission.

If she leaves, then I wouldn’t even exist anymore. Maybe that’s why I’m telling her to go. So that I can wither away in a numb existence.

“I’ll say this as many times as you need to hear it. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wince as Noah pulls out a rather large piece of glass from my shoulder with the tweezers between her fingers.

“I love you, Noah.” My words are tired and heavy, and my eyelids start to sag.

“Let’s get you out of the tub so you can go to sleep, Brazen, and when you wake up, I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here. Plus, I have a promise to keep to make sure you don’t fall apart.”

A promise.

She has a promise. I can guess to whom, and my chest tightens.

I once thought my word could be counted on, but look how badly I’ve failed.

I told Sunday I’d keep her safe, and my word was destroyed.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Sunday.”