Work Text
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I’ve got to get out get out I’ve got to go where can I go
She’s not sure sound exists anymore. She’s not sure she’s breathing anymore. Maybe if she stops breathing then the world will stop, too, and she can place her hand on the cold earth and push, push, push, and it’ll spin backwards, and this won’t have happened, and it wouldn’t be hard, because she doesn’t need much—if she could go backwards just a week, maybe two, back when the doctors said Lucy was getting better, back when they said she’d soon be well, well enough that Father was packing to go to Georgia for the warm weather, but she's not better, and they lied, they lied, and Lucy’s gone and Katherine’s broken and their mother is pale and motionless and crying behind closed doors and all she sees is gray.And gray.And gray.And black.
I can’t see I can’t see why can’t I see hold your breath hold your breath what is that oh no what is that no no wait it’s okay that’s your head that’s your heart that’s your soul screaming at you okay alright let it out let it go who cares fuck it just fuck it all to hell why even try when it hurts this damn much
And Lucy’s gone and Lucy’s gone and Lucy’s gone and
That’s the floor. That’s the floor. That right there. Feel that? That’s the floor. You’re here. You’re here. You’re here. You’re alive. But Lucy, oh, Lucy, Lucy Lucy Lucy
She’s in the garden behind the house, hidden by hedges, and the world is muffled by boxwoods and snow and sadness. She’s not sure this is even real, and she has to know if it’s real, because she won’t cry unless it’s real, she can’t let herself cry unless it’s real, and so she pulls off her kid gloves and sinks onto the ground and presses her palms deep into the snow, and there’s a hiss of melting ice, and shhh, soft, slow, and the cold stings her hands and it’s sharp and it hurts and it’s real, this is real, oh, Lucy, and the tears are dropping in between her splayed fingers and onto the snow and those are tears, Katherine, see, you’re crying, it must be real, now will you believe that it’s real?
Maybe if I just stop breathing… maybe if I just… maybe if… maybe…
…and hold…
It hurts, it still hurts, there won’t ever be a time when it doesn’t hurt, but there aren’t any more tears, and there are more siblings, and they need comforting and her mother needs waking and thank you notes need writing and her grandmother is fluttering around the house like a wounded butterfly and things need to be done. And she can do them.
...and hold…
So she fits the pieces together, and some of them slide back in the wrong spots, and some of them are missing, and some of them shatter when she tries to pick them up, but she does her best. She does her best, and there are songs to sing and stories to write and dreams to chase, and she doesn’t want those things yet, but she thinks she will soon, and she’s not going to stand still waiting until she wants them, she’s going to go get them now. Today. This very minute. She’s going to pick herself up, brush herself off, take a deep breath, and then she’s going to get them. She will. She’s going to go fast and she’s going to go far and she’s going to go hard and she’s going to get better. Better. Better.…and hold… Black.…and hold… Gray.……… Blue....…Katherine? …Darling? …Heart of my heart, flesh of my flesh, light of my life, are you there? …Can you hear me? …It’s not typhoid. …It’s not typhoid. It’s not typhoid. It’s not it’s not it’s not he’s not and it’s black and gray and blue and bright and brilliant and breath and air and it’s not typhoid it’s not typhoid and oh, Lucy, and oh, Jack, and oh
Jack
And Jack
And Jack
And Katherine?
And Jack.