I close the door behind Josh, and leaned against it.
I suddenly feel tired. My heart feels tired. What I consider as simple echoes, just because I resolved myself to move past them, have not returned where they came from.
The touch, even though I only imagined it before Josh did anything, still seems vivid, and disgusting. I don't even want to think about how it only played in my head. I only feel how much it affects me.
The torment in my head, the void in my heart, the pain in my body.
Everything is blending to pull me down, and I'm drowning.
*Ding-dong*
The sound of the bell makes me frown, but I ignore it. It rings again after a moment, and I become displeased, and a little angry.
I turn around and open the door fiercely.
"Why did you come back?"
But it is not Josh outside. It is someone older, someone I don't recognize.
Short brown hair, average height, an above average appearance, and sharp suit. And a grim expression.
"An insulator, confirmed."
I blink, because it seems the man's lips did not move, though I heard his voice. And I'm sure it was his voice because he was the only male around. I look around and confirm that, my confusion growing.
Moreover his voice does not match his mask of grimness. It is cold, devoid of emotions, and almost condescending. Moreover, I can't help but feel his attention on my leg, the wounded one.
"Who are you?"
"Hello, is this the residence of the Lockdream?"
"Yes. Who are you looking for, and why?"
I really am not in the mood to entertain someone. On top of everything inside and outside of my body, my growing confusion was adding to my troubles, and I just want a downtime of quiet and solitude to rest.
"You must be Maxine Lockdream. I am with the border police. We tried to call yesterday, but we failed to reach anyone. I am here because of the death of Maxwell and Elizabeth Weaver in a road accident at the border while coming back to the country on the night of Sunday to Monday. They have been cremated after their remains have been recovered, and you can come collect the ashes when you will be available. Our sincere condolences."
I stop listening midway. The world stops, and my brain crashes.
What dilemma? What identity dissonance?
I have yet to finish dealing with the pain of dad and mom passing. I have yet to face the bloody image of their death in my head, and now, my grandparents, the ones whose names mine and Liz's are derived from, they are dead too.
It is like a joke, but also like the world playing me before crashing down on me.
I think the man said something again, but I didn't register anything. I close the door, and darkness falls upon me.
When I wake up, I find myself on the floor in the middle of the living room. I numbly stand up and climb up the stairs. I don't even feel the pain in my leg.
I simply go to the room where I spent the last night, and I crash onto the same bed.
My eyes are open, but my mind is not moving.
Unlike when I was feeling tired before, I'm only feeling empty now.
I don't know how much time has passed. I hear the door of the room moving and the bed moved with Liz coming to kneel beside me. She places a hand on my forehead.
"Max? Are you feeling unwell?"
I think my lack of reaction spooked Liz. Her soft voice takes an empty highway straight to the deepest part of my heart. It is like a switch that makes me come back to life, to the pain of my heart squeezed like it is being clenched by an iron grip.
I tremble, and I throw myself at Liz. I hug her with all my strength with my head buried in her stomach, and I start bawling.
"Waaaa!!! Waaaa!!!"
"There, there. Don't cry anymore, Max. I'm here."
She says as she strokes my head but her words only make my heart clench more.
She is there today, but what about tomorrow, and after that?
Sunday morning, dad and mom have also been there. Saturday, grandpa and grandma have also been there. And now everyone is gone. The family, it is only us now.
"Waaaaaa!!!"
I cry more fiercely, and Liz hugs me tighter. She stops speaking. She simply accompanies me and lets me soak her off-shoulder top.
I cry with the bit of energy the shock has squeezed out of me, and that does not last me long.
Liz simply lies down with me in her arms. I stop bawling, but it is only when my tears slow down that I open my mouth.
"Grandpa, and grandma. They are gone. They had an accident while coming back, Liz. They are gone too."
Liz stiffens. I can feel it. I can also feel how she forces herself to relax, and how gently she resumes stroking my hair.
That only makes me sadder, because she is not grieving. She only lets me grieve.
The world used to be bright, but now I hate it.
I tremble in Liz's arms, and she feels it, because she lifts me up to have my head reach her chest. She moves a bit. My eyes are closed, but I feel her clothes shift, and I feel her naked skin on my face.
I take a moment to understand what is happening when I feel a nipple at my lips. I don't even have it in me to produce feelings of embarrassment.
I open my mouth, and I take Liz's nipple in my mouth. I suckle like a baby. The emptiness inside doesn't fill up, but I seem to have found an anchor, and it stops me from descending deeper in the abyss.
As the nipple reacts to the movements of my tongue, it steadies my heart and pulls me up.