Vivid Lies (25 page)

It doesn't take a psychiatrist to tell me what happened to me. I lost my twin sister and the person I loved the most in this world. Unable to cope without her, I kept her alive in my mind. I lived for her, became her as if she had never perished. When you know someone so deeply and thoroughly, it's not hard to fool everyone, including yourself.
 

With the illusion broken, I can look back at the past few months. I was a stripper and a photographer. I fooled around with two different men at the same time. Miles confessed his love to me. Kane let down his armor for me. Do I love them both? Do either of them love me? Do
I
even love me?

The drugs keep me from slipping back into my fantasy world. I want to so badly so I can escape the suffocating grief that overpowers me. It was better when I thought she was still here. It's ironic how deep my problems really were, and I was worried about bills and photos. Delusional.
 

I look up when I hear a soft knock on my door, and Mrs. Walker comes in. She brings me flowers and gives me a kiss on my forehead. I'm in the chair between my bed and the large window. There are bars on the window so I can't escape.
 

Mrs. Walker sits on the bed and watches the clouds roll in with me. It might storm tonight and I'll have no one to hold me through it.
 

"You're losing weight," she comments, handing me a candy bar.
 

Even with no appetite, I take it anyway for the sole reason that I haven't been allowed anything but their disgusting hospital food.
 

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," she says.
 

"I do."
 

"Ask them. I'll answer. If you won't talk to the doctors here, at least talk to someone who loves you."

My heart aches because the one person who loved me the most is gone.
 

"I don't know if I'll believe the answers."

"I wouldn't lie to you, sweetheart."

"Everything is a lie to me."
 

"Well, let's try to find the truth."

I nod and look down at my hands in my lap. They look limp and useless. I have so many questions but I'm not even sure where to start.
 

"My dad?" I finally ask. Mrs. Walker sighs, and I'm not sure if it's relief or disappointment.
 

"Still at Sun Ray. He suffered some third degree burns and went through his detox there. When he's sober and medically able, he will be moved to State Prison."

I look up at her in shock. It's the first zap of any emotion other than sadness I've felt in a long time.
 

"He confessed to starting the fire," she tells me gently.
 

My mind spins. The drugs slow my thought process. The memories I tried so hard to block come back to me and I know what I saw. Brooklyn dropped that lighter. She dropped it knowing it would burn the house down like our father had failed to do.
 

Why would he confess to a crime he didn't commit? A good parent might take the fall for their child as a sacrifice made out of love. But he's not a good parent. Or even a parent at all, really.
 

"The boys have been asking to see you," Mrs. Walker says, changing the subject.
 

"Boys?"

"Miles and Kane. They come every day, hoping they will be allowed a visit."

"Kane is here?" I figured he would be home by now. It's been a week.
 

"Yes. He refused to leave."

Tears spring to my eyes. The girl he thought he was sneaking around with turned out to be crazy. He saw two girls and now only one shell remains. He was tricked just like I was.
 

"Why did you hire him?"
 

Mrs. Walker hands me another candy bar that I quickly accept. The sugar is a change to the blandness surrounding me.
 

"That night, Miles left with you. I know he loved you both and was trying to save you, but I was worried sick. He wouldn't tell me where you were, except near Miami. When he refused to bring you home, I knew something was very wrong. Call it mother's intuition."

Tears fall down my face freely. I can now remember Miles carrying me to the jeep and shoving me in the backseat after he pulled me from my dad's hold. He promised to keep me safe. He must have been devastated, but he was so strong for me.
 

"I don't think he knew how to help you, and he didn't want to hurt you. I hired a private investigator in the area. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Even Kane was a lie. Did he ever want to know me, or was it all a job for him? Did he know that it was all a lie?

Mrs. Walker gets off the bed and kneels in front of me. She takes my cold hands in hers, wrapping them up in warmth. I let it soak into my skin and spread through my body. She's a cloud gray. Sad, but comforting and timeless.
 

"I won't lie to you, baby girl. You have a long road in front of you. It's gonna be hard, it will hurt, and it kills me to see you go through it. But you are not alone, you hear me?" her southern accent gets thick with emotions as she grips my face. "I will be here every damn day. I will answer any question you have. I love you like you were my own because you are my baby girl. Maybe not by blood, but I
earned
you."

I break down and throw my arms around her neck. I fall to the floor and, although Mrs. Walker looks like she's a tiny woman, she takes my weight and holds me in her arms like I am a little girl. I cry into her blouse that smells like roses.
 

She lets me cry, running her fingers through my long hair. I am done being strong and I let all the tears go. I feel her shaking with her own tears but she never lets me go. I cry until I run out of tears. I pull away and she brushes the hair out of my face.
 

"I love you, London. I will be here for you. Miles and that boy are here for you. Don't you forget that. It will never be the same, but you will okay. Brooklyn wouldn't want you give up. She wanted you to live."

"Thank you," I say with a raw voice from crying. It's the first bit of comfort I start to feel.
 

It's dinner time and the nurse interrupts to leave my dinner tray. I make a face at the smell of fake meatloaf and over-cooked green beans. I'd rather eat ramen noodles.
 

"Hang in there, London. You are such a strong young woman."

We get up off the floor and Mrs. Walker helps me into the bed. I'm weak from the medication and lack of sleep. Strangely, the nightmares have stopped. I realize they were my mind's way of telling me the truth. I just wasn't ready to see it yet.
 

I eat my dinner reluctantly while she fills me in on town gossip. It's all petty in the grand scheme of things and we both know it. But it's the familiarity and simplicity that soothes me. I feel less heavy than I did that morning. The grief and loss is still there, but I can breathe just a little better now.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Whether you like it or not."

"Thank you," I say, meaning it more than she could realize.
 

"Think about talking to Miles. He can answer a lot of questions for you that I can't. He needs you right now. He lost someone, too."

I nod, too scared to speak. My heart breaks when I think about looking into those green eyes and seeing the hurt reflecting back at me. That fear is only multiplied when I remember what I put him through the past few months. I'm not sure how we can ever move past this. How can I ever get past it?

Mrs. Walker pauses at the door and looks back at me.
 

"Kane never turned you in, London. He told me he couldn't find you and refunded the money."

London

Group therapy is a special type of torture for me. I never was a very social person, so sitting around with a bunch of strangers and sharing our feelings is not my cup of tea. I don't participate, but it makes my doctor happy to see me there. I listen and I watch the others, but I don't share. I don't know if it's so I don't break down, out of shame, or denial.
 

I want to go home. In the psychiatric hospital, I feel alone. Memories haunt me, but no amount of talking or medication makes me feel better. My only hope of release is to cooperate and talk to the therapists. I go through the motions each day but after another two weeks, I still feel trapped. The heavy weight on my heart doesn't get any lighter.

A knock comes at the door and I smile, expecting Mrs. Walker with flowers and candy like usual. That's become my highlight of my day. When Miles walks in my room, I am shocked into silence. Even though he can read my distress all over my face, he clears the distance between us and wraps me up in his strong arms.
 

As soon as I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, I crack wide open. I cling to him like I'm drowning and he's my lifesaver. He holds me tight, kissing the top of my head and I regret pushing him away these past few days. With him, I finally feel like I'm not alone. I feel connected to the old me. I feel the connection to my sister that I lost.
 

"Fuck, London. I missed you so much."

I pull back and grab his face, rubbing his cheeks and memorizing the face I used to know by heart all over again. His eyes are a jaded green with bags under them. He has more scruff than usual, making him look weathered and older. I'm reminded I'm not the only one who lost Brooklyn.

Long moments pass in silence as we hold each other. Unspoken words float in the air, wrapping around us and holding us together like binds. Memories flood in.
 

Miles telling me he loved me in his song. The way he kissed me—desperately and passionately. The way I felt cherished, safe, and loved when he looked at me. The way he begged me to stay with him. The memories are disconnected. Hazy in my own mind as I lived someone else's life.
 

Brooklyn, stay with me
.
 

There's an undercurrent of the feelings I had for Miles. I can remember the way his hands felt on me, how we kissed. The way he looked at me. Part of me feels that pull still there.
 

We pull apart and I rub my temples to chase away the headache forming. On top of losing my sister, I also deal with the daily reminders of the things I did as Brooklyn. My cheeks heat with embarrassment and I try to hide it behind my long hair.
 

"Hey. Don't hide from me," he says as he tilts my face back up to him.
 

He pulls out a candy bar and hands it to me. I laugh as I take it, picturing his mom telling him to soften me with chocolate.
 

"Thanks," I say as I tear it open shamelessly.
 

We sit in silence on the hard bed watching out the window. I try to gather all the thoughts racing in my mind. So many questions. Miles seems to sense my need for time and patiently waits me out. It's refreshing to be around someone who just knows how you feel and not have to tell them. I thought I would never have that again.
 

"You knew." I finally say. "Why did you let me go on like that?"

He sighs and rubs his face roughly. I hate to see the stress in his body but I can't make it go away. I'm not ready to forgive just yet. I need more answers still.
 

"Not right away. In that car ride, you changed. We stayed at a hotel for two days before I found an apartment. You didn't speak for the first day. The second day you became her."

I swallow down a sob. I don't remember those days. I remember moving into the apartment, imagining my sister by my side.
 

"We ran because I thought you would be in trouble for the fire. I saw your dad was still alive and I thought I was keeping you safe from him. Then, I couldn't bear to be the person to tell you the truth. I couldn't hurt you."

I want to understand. I really do. I hate being angry or bitter against Miles. I love him but it hurts.
 

"Why let me go through that?" I ask. "You kissed me as London. And as Brooklyn. You let me carry on living a lie."

My face heats as I think back. The stripping. Kane. Miles. Things only two separate people should do.
 

"I promised myself I would never lie to you again, so I will give you an honest answer."

"I would appreciate that."

"I was selfish. I didn't want to let her go either. It's not right, but she was there, in my hands and it all felt so real. You both were. I wanted to live in that lie with you. I'm a complete asshole for letting it go on. I just didn't know how to help."

I hate to see the tears well up in his eyes. Miles was always our strength. Seeing him break like this is painful.
 

"I wasn't sure for a while," he says, looking out the window again. "It was all so real, I couldn't tell which one was real anymore."

"Which one did you want it to be?" I ask.
 

Miles looks at me like I had stabbed him in the heart. His eyes are begging me to understand. He's being split in half just as I was. Knowing the feeling, I move closer to hold his hand.