I'm Still Here

Sensitive content: Death and mental illness.

Tate felt arms wrap around his shoulders and heard words whispered into his ear.

"It's going to be okay," she said. Those words meant nothing.

You see, when you were in this place of darkness and doom, words could only get so far, actions could only get so far. No matter how much intention someone put into making you feel better, no matter how much someone tried, it only got so far. When you sat and stared at the blindingly white hall of the hospital, numbness spreading like trickling tar through your mind body and soul, no words or actions of kindness could pierce your being. You were shut off. Were they shut off? You couldn't care less.

This was how Tate felt, sitting outside of his mother's hospital room, the news of her death fresh, yet not. It was no surprise to him that she had passed. After countless years of watching her suffer against the raging cancer that plagued her body, Tate was not shocked. But it still hurt him like hell. Despite his mother not being the most loving and caring in the world, Tate suddenly remembered all the rare moments when she used to pick him and hold him to her chest, planting thousands of kisses on his forehead, swing him around, hold him when he cried, held his hand when he felt down. He mother's bad moments seemed to be wiped off the radar. Tate just wanted his mother more than ever.

"It's going to be okay, Tate," she said again from his right. He felt his sister's hand wind through his, clutching and firm. She had come across the country to be with Mum, two days prior.

For a short moment, a pang of fury ignited at the bottom of Tate's sternum. "No it's not, Paige," he hissed in his sister's freckled face. "She's gone. And she'll never come back."

Tate watched as his sister recoiled, raw grief evident on her face. He suddenly felt resentment to it all, to his sister, his state of mind, life even. Why did you have to leave Mummy? Tate thought bitterly.

Through his whirling emotions, he heard Paige speak to him.

"Come on, Tate, lets get you home," she said, putting a hand on his arm. Tate shook it off.

"No," he said, anger boiling in his gut. "I want to stay with Mum."

Paige looked slightly exasperated, but despite that, her red eyes wide with empathy. "Tate, you're not even with her right now. You can't be with her; those whatever-you-call-them are taking care of her body. You're not allowed to see her until she's in the casket. Come home, to Mum's."

To Mum's. Despite Tate wanting to stay in the hospital with his mother, going home and cuddling up in her bed sounded like it would bring some sort of comfort. Tate cringed inwardly and scolded his childishness.

Slowly, Tate stood up, Paige at his arm. He snapped at her not to touch him. Together, a distance between them, they walked down the depressing halls and out into the heat of summer. Tate looked up at the endless blue sky. Stop teasing me.

And a blur of a car ride later, they arrived at home. Tate went straight to the front door and let himself in. He went directly to his mother's room and buried himself under the covers, slamming the dor behind him, wishing to be held by her.

Only now did the tears come, slow but intense, the sobs that rose shaking Tate to the very core of his being. He cried until he felt hollow, until he felt like there was nothing left of him. He cried for his mother, he cried for this great feeling of hopelessness that had surfaced amidst all of Tate's pain.

Time felt non-existent, a great big ball of sludge that wouldn't move. It felt like things were moving so slowly that you could turn around and walk right back to where you started. Yet when Tate looked up, having stared at the same spot on the wall for God knows how long, he found it to be sunset. This seemed to upset Tate even more and he simply slumped back down onto the pillows that smelled like his Mum's shampoo, and continued to stare into the nothingness.

Everything seemed to pass over Tate's head, when Paige came into the room and offered him plates of food, he turned away. When Sunday came around and Paige told him it was time for church, he looked away. When school came around again, Tate couldn't have cared less.

One afternoon when Tate was sitting on his mother's bed, Paige knocked on the door and came in without awaiting a reply. She sat on the comforter next to him. She cleared her throat.

"Tate." Paige touched his shoulder.

He said nothing.

Paige sighed. "Tate, I think it's time we do something about this - err - this state that you're in."

Silence.

"Perhaps we should book an appointment at the therapy center. It ought to do you good; you've been staring at the walls for nearly three weeks now. I'm worried. I know that Mum is gone and it's hard for you - for me -"

Tate snapped. After all the numbness, the animosity that flooded his conscious felt like fireworks.

"Shut the fuck up, Paige! Of course it's hard, Mum fucking died! What else do you think I'm just sitting here for? I can't fucking handle it!" Tate yelled, his face heating up, his voice raw with emotion. He inhaled a huge breath and screamed. "I JUST WANT HER BACK!"

Tate felt himself sobbing again. Out the corner of his eye he could see his sister's face screwed up in pain, tears pouring down her cheeks.

For a long moment they sat and didn't say a word, their choked sobs saying it all.

After a long while, Paige spoke. "Tate, come with me. I want to show you something," she said, wiping the last of her tears away. "Will you come with me?"

Tate, still swallowing dry sobs, shrugged half-heartedly.

"I want to tell you a story about Mum," Paige whispered, a small, sad smile on her face.

Tate looked up. He shrugged again.

After a moment, Paige took his arm and helped him to his feet and to the front door. Once they were both in the car, Paige started the car and backed out of the driveway and took off down the road, towards the city centre. Once they were one of the main streets, Paige turned towards the coast, driving down to the boulevard next to the sand. She parked the car and got out. Tate got out, Paige took his hand. He didn't bother pulling away, he was too tired.

His sister led him down onto the sand and told him to take his shoes off. Tate did as he was told.

Paige then led him down along the beach, all the way to the rocks on the bluff. She sat him down on a rock near the shore and took a seat on the sand beside him.

"This is where Mum used to bring me all the time. It was our special spot. Tate, tell me what our age gap is again," she added out of the blue.

"Fourteen years," Tate replied, gazing blankly out at the ocean.

"So I had fourteen years without you in my life," Page began, a wistful expression on her face. "Fourteen years where I was an only child. You were only four years old when I moved out. Mum taught me so much. She taught me that pain is only temporary, that every scab, ache and pain would pass with time. She taught me that happiness and joy existed in every moment, even when everything feels like shit. She taught me that everyone has all they need in their heart, that everyone is complete, whether they know it or not. She is so loving. She held me when I had my first heartbreak. She held me while I cried until I threw up. Until one day, she never held me again. No one ever told you this, Tate, but shortly after you were born, our father left. Without warning, he left. Our mother was devastated. She was depressed. She struggled ever since and became the kind of mother that she never would've wanted to be. She became unpredictable and distant. But it was the best she could do at the time. Tate, she loved you. She loved you with all her fucking heart. And what you really need to understand, is that she's never left you. Tate, she lives in your heart now. And just because someone isn't physically there anymore, doesn't mean that they aren't still around, still with you. She's still with you, Tate. I'm still with you."

Something about his sister's words had finally punctured the hole in the balloon of darkness that had overwhelmed him ever since their mother's death. It still hurt, but everything had suddenly become more bearable. Less foggy. Tate couldn't stop the tears anymore. And for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace with his mother. He felt at peace with everything she had done, the life she had given him. And for the first time in forever, he felt a knowing. Knowing that it would be okay. Tate finally knew that words meant so much. But it was whether you let them have meaning. What Paige had told him, touched him. The emotion that had been conveyed through her voice had meant the universe to Tate. Through all his anger and obliviousness, he had forgotten how much love he had for his sister. Even though they rarely saw each other, they still had an unbreakable bond of siblinghood.

Tate looked at his sister. Really looked at her for the first time. He had a sister. The light brown, freckled skin, her chocolate eyes, the slightly crooked line of her nose, the curve of her mouth, the quirk of her eyebrows, the way her hair rose and fell in the breeze, the way she moved, Tate loved her. For everything she was. He swallowed his fear, his anger, his guilt.

"Paige?" He said. Their eyes met. They both had the same eyes as their mother. Tate put his hands on her shoulders. He spoke with pure intent. "I love you. With all my heart."

Paige burst into tears. "I love you too, Tate. With all my heart."

They fell into each other's arms, holding each other until they lost track of time.