Review Summary: We're too old. We're not old at all...
I make my way through the dark halls of a hospital. It is quiet – almost silent. I see people working and notice patients moving but somehow, sound has not found its way in. Oddly enough, I know this is only temporary. I walk past the first room to my right – it is marked 502. There is a woman in there and she is screaming. I run to her. Somehow, nothing I can do will combat her screams. She does not want me. She wants a resolution – more than I can offer. It does not stop me from trying to help. I know this is the prologue of something but am unsure of what that is.
Now I hear it. It is not quite sound yet, but it is noise – the soft sounds of strumming as if welcoming me on my new journey. For a moment, I feel that I can protect this stranger and somehow prevent the inevitable. Possibilities fill my brain and I slowly start to dance to the strange sounds. I decide to help you although, admittedly, I am skeptical walking into this strange unknown.
I arrive late on certain days and you notice. You punish me by hiding away. I still want to help; want to make you feel whole, but your reluctance comes across as anger. Get your head out of the oven. Please, let me lend you a hand. You can blame me for everything if just gets you to stop hurting yourself. They continue to tell me you're a lost cause, but I know the truth. What is happening is beyond your control and for that, none of this is your fault.
Nightmares have started. I dream of dogs in cages. I let them out and take their place. The line between being wide aware and dead asleep is blurring. I hear you when I close my eyes – but I do not see anything. Your voice is a quiet whisper reminding me how I am constantly letting you down. When I am around you, you scream for help and all I can do is lay by your side until you have decided to rest. I will stare at the door and hate myself for thinking about walking out. What have you done?
Through it all - the loud screams and unapologetic sounds - the thought that haunts me is how this has all happened before. When I think of her and what I ran away from, I think of you. I think of the life we lost and the friends we no longer see. I think of how quickly I have grown up and where all the lost time has gone. They used to tell us we have aged so much in such short time. You lay in your bed looking at me with the same look of sadness and attachment. None of this is your fault, yet you are all I can blame.
On the final night, I urge myself to break free. I notice all of the chains and I work through them. Pulling harder and harder, I start to see how I can leave. Looking back at your window, I see your reflection. You are brushing your hair and singing about your life before you knew me. Everything at one time was all okay. You were a beautiful being before your father ***ed you up. Before the doctors could not save you. Before I entered your life. I suddenly notice that it is not your reflection – it is hers. I do not think I can go.
All the machines stop moving. It is over and you are gone. There's Nothing I could ever have done to prevent the inevitable, and I still feel so helpless. I return home to the bed she left me; her clothes still flung all around the room. I turn over her pictures for the first time and try to get some rest. For once, I want to have a clear mind but I am not sure if it is an option anymore. You will return to me at night when I think I have fallen asleep. I will be scared, frozen. I will know you're there to hurt me and you will cry and curse, laugh and yell and lay next to me. I will know demons come and go and I will close my eyes, imagining a time where I was younger, much younger…
