The Forgotten Keychains by Julian Kennedy

Author:Julian Kennedy [Julian Kennedy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julian Kennedy
Published: 2024-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

Who knows how long later, I come to and hear a set of keys frantically working in my doorknob. My heart skips a beat and I groan, trying to get the energy to call out. My body is still lying helpless on the floor, just as I see feet running into my bedroom.

I look up and see a blurry face leaning over me, crying. A minute later, they rest my head in their lap and put an ice pack on my head. Normally I try to reserve that treatment for the worst hangovers. I feel the person’s tears land on my forehead, and I sit up with a jolt.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!” My gasping breaths resume, and the impulse to scream is nearly impossible. “Don’t touch me.”

My vision clears and I see Rosa. Rosa’s face sags, her eyes dark and knowing. This isn’t the first time I’d lashed out at Rosa, but it had never been this bad. And never the result of a dream.

Rosa keeps holding the ice pack, and her lips quiver as she chokes back more tears. She looks at me, her eyes searching for an explanation.

I gag and say, “Just—just gimme…” I run into my bathroom and dry heave into the toilet, gripping the icy porcelain with shaky arms. My stomach too empty for vomit, the nausea comes in painful waves. I resume my crying spell, and put my head between my knees. Why am I like this? I hate it so much, and it makes me hate myself. There are so many days I wish I could disappear. It makes me wonder why people like Rosa and Ashlin even bother. I hit myself on the head with my palm once, twice, three times.

Rosa grabs my hand, and begins rubbing my back. Her voice is soft. “Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.”

Without lifting my head, I take a deep breath and blow it out. Or, at least, I try. I pick up my head. I feel totally checked out, like I’ve just been through hell and am too numb to process it.

Rosa, trying to be as soothing as possible, says, “This has happened before, Dan. Maybe not to this extreme. But the anger and the tears, dozens of times over the past several years. Just like with Marco. And I don’t know how to save either of you. He tried therapy, remember, and it went out the window the second he met that asshole, Tony.”

She looks at me and continues, “I love you, and have been trying to get your ass to talk to a therapist for years. Maybe it would work for you. It’s the flask, and the pills, the sobbing, the flying off the handle.” Rosa’s chest rises and falls with every word, and she points a finger at me. A second later, she lowers it, and buries her own head in her knees and cries. “I can’t take it anymore.”

My breathing is just about back to normal, and I wipe away the last of my tears.

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