Reinventing Your Exit
Hours Outside In The Snow
|Jan. 2014|
Emptiness.
I couldn’t feel a thing. I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the car colliding with ours over and over and over and over. Max’s cries the emptiness that came from my son.
I leaned my head back against the hotel door and let a sob escape my mouth as I grab another bottle of alcohol from the mini fridge.
The snow littered the ground outside and covered every inch of Chapel Hill. I should just head back home and grab my stuff so I can move in with Beau, but I can’t even keep myself barely alive.
Every time I close my eyes, I see those green eyes. Those panicked green eyes searching mine for any linger of hope. Those eyes that held the fear of dying.
It’s only been a month and things have gotten so much worse.
I set the bottle between my legs and began tracing my tattoos. I want something to remember them by. Two months after Matthew was born, Austin got Matthew’s name tattooed on the back of his arm.
But that was when he was alive.
Now that he’s gone, I want something to remember Matthew by…something to remind me, I’m the cause of his death.
But I couldn’t do that now. Not while I’m still grieving. Not while I’m still drinking myself sill outside the roof.
I let another cry leave my body as I let my head drop between my knees.
“I hope to God you come down. I hope you feel this now, wherever you are.” I whisper.
I lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. My phone buzzing non-stop beside me. First it was my band mates. My former band mates. Then it was Beau. Then Aaron and finally, it’s on Spencer.
It’s convenient that Beau lives in Chapel Hill like Spence does. They both have music to rely on. I have nothing. I don’t have my band. I don’t have my son. I have no one.
The buzzing echoed throughout the silent hotel room and made my head buzz with emptiness.
Everything was fucking perfect.
Everything was perfect.
I got on Pandora and the first thing to come on was We Are Broken. Hearing how we sounded broke my heart because it’ll never be that way. Sorry Not Sorry will never make any more music.
My best friend, my rock since high school and he’s gone. It was hard enough dealing with Mitch’s death, but Max?
Sure we could’ve gotten another drummer, but Sorry Not Sorry was formed by four high school buds. We spent years together trying to make it to the top and we’re not just going to replace him. It wouldn’t be the same.
We can’t be on the top without Max.
I can’t be on the top without my family and my family is now torn apart.
Notes
First chapter (sorta, more like a prologue).
Oh my what a plot
2/21/15