Pitter-Patter

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Rain pelted the cement outside, big fat drops from the sky. The earth swelled with lust for the moisture and drank it until it no longer could. The remaining pooled on the surface, leaving puddles of tears from the gods. The air smelled liked dirt, and I wonder what rain would smell like on other planets. Surely our earthy scent was unique, a natural odor that could not be reproduced. 

“What do you think Mars smells like?” I was supposed to be meditating but a wandering mind has many questions. For example, if I died, would my spirit be able to travel to Mars and find out? I did not inquire about this one out loud, they may put me back in a psych ward. At the lack of a response, I opened one eye to find no one in my presence. The white noise of rain was good for meditation and calling spirits forward, but it seems not even the living were listening. 

My sister was looking after me now. I was not capable of maintaining life on my own. Unfortunately for me, we live on two different spectrums of the world, but, at times, it’s better than staying at the hospital. Here, there are things for me to do and I can at least be sad about not being able to do them.

“You’re not meditating,” Loren stated matter of factly. I had hardly noticed her presence in the room. I had always envied the thinness of her body but I now understand it takes a lot of calories to be bitter. I had transitioned to laying on the floor, staring up at the glass ceiling, imagining the rain was falling on me and drowning me.

“Yes, I am.” I retorted, even as adults we bickered in this way.

“No, you are not.” She snapped back at me “And you can’t just sit there all day.”

“Actually, I could if I wanted to.” The banter was easy for me but it always made my face sour. It always made my sister mad. Even from my position on the floor, I could tell her face was red at the huffiness in her breath. A hurtful rant was sure to be on its way.

“Listen. Just because you are depressed does not mean you can do nothing. Get up and make your bed, do the dishes, or better yet, take a shower!” Loren was always the better sibling. She was put together and organized and I tried for thirty years to be like her. I just couldn’t. Nothing was going to change that now. 

“I’m not mom.” was her last remark.

I hated when Loren spoke about mom. She was the only person that understood me and my struggles with depression. Loren just thought that mom had babied me since I was the youngest and that had made me soft. Mom was gone though, she died five years ago, and I have been spiraling out of control ever since.

“You could never be mom,” I muttered still laying on the floor. For a moment, I thought it was raining on me, but it was my own tears that slipped down my cheeks and into my ears. “Mom actually cared about me,” I stated louder, trying not to choke on my emotions.

“Luuk, you’re such an ass.” Loren fired back, maybe mom’s death impacted her more than I thought. “You have been throwing yourself a pity party for five years now. I don’t believe for a second that you are SO depressed. You just miss being coddled.” Her hands were on her hips now, she was obviously upset.

My tears grew but I let Loren continue without protest.

“Ever since you were born, everything has been about you. You were always crying and needing mom to protect you. You selfishly demanded all of her attention and now you are demanding mine!” Loren pointed to herself in a gesture that was similar to mom. “I took you in because I’m all you have left, but don’t think that I won’t send you back if you can not get your act together. You are forty-seven years old, it’s time to grow up.”

“Just let me die,” I said softly “Let me die!” I shouted turning onto my side “I want to die.” I wept, hugging myself as I sobbed, creating my own puddles on the cold glossy tile floor that did not yearn for wetness. My sister rejected me, this floor was rejecting me, hell even I rejected me. I had tried to end my life and failed. My body felt so heavy yet my mind felt even heavier. Living life was a burden to myself and others. What good was I to anyone?

“You don’t actually want to die.” Loren denied me this idea and retrieved a tissue for my leaking face. She could never comprehend this feeling inside of me. I wish I could share this with her if only for a minute, that way she might be able to empathize with me. I doubted my sister had the ability to feel for others at all. “You obviously do not want to die that much, because you’re still here. That whole debacle was probably just another cry for attention.” She snorted as I took the tissue from her extended hand.

A heat bubbled out of my numbness. It rose to my face and invaded my mind. It made hateful things easy to say “You’re just angry that mom loved me more.” I commented, pressing the tissue to my eyes which caused me to miss what would happen next.

Pop.

For a moment, I was dazed. My ear was ringing and my head stung on both sides, one from impact and the other from the recoil on the tile floor. Tears struck my eyes again as they turned to see Loren hold her hand, it must have hurt her too. “You slapped me,” I said shocked. Never had my sister laid hands on me, sure her words were selectively disrespectful, but this was unexpected.

“Yes,” Loren responded, sounding surprised herself before pulling it together. “I did.” This time her voice was confident like maybe she would do it again. “As I said, if you are going to stay with me, you’d better get your shit together.” Her jaw was set and a stern look came over her eyes. Damn, she could be Mom.

I watched Loren leave the room and me, still stunned at the events that just occurred. The day was darkening but the sky still mourned. The wind must have changed as the pitter-patter of the rain was now coming from its contact with the window, instead of the ground. My mind wandered in the white noise. Maybe I should go back to the hospital, I don’t think I know who that person is that claims to be my sister. I really do have no one left for me in this world. I let the darkness outside seep into the room, wanting it to swallow me until I could no longer breathe. It never did.