I spend hours tryna make it through the day
I don't know if I'll ever be the same
It's hard enough when you're all alone

After my breakdown in the shower, Jack wouldn’t leave me alone. I knew I scared him, being so...broken in front of him like that. Sure, we’d been through highs and lows before, but despite Jack’s assurance that we were ‘Jack and Sally’, that we would be just fine...I think deep down we both knew this was far different from anything we’d been through before.

We’d lost our child, and a tiny little bit of us went with it. It was something we couldn’t bear to form into words, not yet. Where could we even begin? We’d been looking forward to the life-changing event of becoming parents, and suddenly, it was gone. No more baby, just...whatever was left of us. We were shells of who we once were, haunted by a child who would never be.

I knew Jack felt the same emptiness I did. He didn’t say anything, but I knew. It created an awkwardness between us as it was clear he wanted to bring up our loss about as much as I did. Instead, he focused on me and my well-being, doing everything in his power to help patch up my shattered emotions.

Suddenly it was like he was stepping on broken glass around me, afraid of bringing up ‘sensitive’ topics that could send me into breakdown number two. Just like that, there was no more mention of the baby, no more mention of my scars that I deemed so monstrously grotesque I couldn’t bear to even look down at myself anymore. Instead, our topics of conversation became diluted, basically restricted to three things: how I was feeling, if I wanted-slash-needed anything, and the weather.

Exciting, I know.

It wasn’t Jack’s fault, of course--this sudden lack of enthralling conversation between us. I knew it was on me. Normal topics of discussion--common interests, for example, were now moot. It was just like everything I’d ever liked, from Nightmare Before Christmas, to Blink-182 to even playing the piano meant nothing to me. It was empty, meaningless as the familiar waves of excitement from such things never came. Because of this, every time Jack attempted to bring up watching a movie or putting on an album I used to love, I always responded the same, my voice laced with as much apology as I could muster:

“Sorry, I can’t do this right now.”

I would usually follow this by excusing myself for a nap, shutting our bedroom door before Jack could say a word. I’d stay there for a bit, leaning lamely against the wooden door as my heart ached for me to go back out there, to just sit down and enjoy something for once, but I couldn’t. I’d close my eyes, seeing Melody’s perfectly angelic face smiling back at me, and instantly I felt a pang of guilt hit me like a punching bag for even thinking about enjoying something when she was dead. I’d dwell on this thought often, letting the guilt sink in the pit of my stomach until it felt so heavy I’d sink to my knees, slowly collapsing in a heap on the floor. I’d stay there, silently crying to myself for God only knew how long, wishing for anything to have her back.

It didn’t take long for Jack to notice his task of cheering me up wasn’t working as he’d hoped. And Jack being the stubborn person he was, decided to up his game. Taking charge before I could even think of protesting, he put everything upon himself in hopes of keeping my stress to a minimum. From answering the phone, to making sure I ate enough, to doing the laundry; he did all of it. All I was expected to do was sit in my designated spot on the couch with my foot properly raised and quote “get better.” The first couple of days, I didn’t mind. I spent most of the time sleeping. The doctor’s warned me this would happen, between the pain meds and the fact I was still in the healing process, my body would wear out very quickly. In other words, sleeping up to twenty-odd hours a day while recovering from a traumatic accident wasn’t uncommon.

Uncommon or not, I hated it. I felt like it was all my body could bring myself to do, and every time I did drift off, well that was when the terror really began. That was when Melody came to life, becoming the rambunctious five year old I had always imagined she’d become.

Sometimes she’d greet me happily before asking me to play with her. Other times she’d just stare at me, silent tears rolling down her cheek before uttering one word: “Why?” It always ended the same, though. She’d start screaming at the top of her lungs, begging me to come back, asking me why I left her...

“I didn’t leave you.” I’d protest. But, of course, she would argue this.

“You DID!” She’d shrill, her voice raw as the tears seemed to fall endlessly from her eyes like a waterfall. “You said you wouldn’t leave, but you DID!”

“I’m sorry!” I shook my head. “I didn’t--”

I blinked, and suddenly Melody was now splotched with a dark red substance I had all too well become familiar with: blood. Her eyes, still wet from the stream of tears locked onto my soul, the hurt evident. “Mommy...why did you kill me?”

Her words echoed louder and louder until it was all I could focus on. I shook my head again, vigorously fighting the accusation as I tried to block her out.

‘I didn’t kill her.’ I told myself, stubbornly pressing the palms of my hands against my ears in attempts of drowning out her voice. ‘The accident killed her. It wasn’t my fault for losing her.’

But of course, her voice penetrated my logic, gaining momentum as it spun around me in taunting torment.

Why did you kill me?

Why did you--

I’d wake up then. Just when I was sure I’d start screaming from the mental anguish, I always woke up. Considering the amount of napping I’d done since going home, Jack wasn’t always next to me when I woke from these nightmares, but when he was, he was quick to ask me if I was alright. I’d just brush it off as nothing, as I knew if I told him the truth, that I’d dreamed about our daughter blaming me for her death, well I knew that would freak him out for sure. He was bound to ask me more about it, and would probably worry even more about me than he already was. So instead of going down that disaster of a road, I kept quite.

They were just nightmares, after all.

~*~

“Are you SURE you don’t want me to stay?” Jack asked me two weeks later, the day he was set to leave for tour finally upon us. His hands were on my shoulders, squeezing tightly as his dark orbs met mine carefully.

He’d been asking me this for the past week. I think once it sunk in for Jack that he’d actually have to leave, it was as if he was just waiting for me to give him even the tiniest excuse to stay home. His hesitancy in leaving me was evident, most notably from the endless emails he’d sent Matt pleading with him to reschedule the tour. He kept asking the band’s tour manager if there was any possible way to give out full refunds and make the loop across the scheduled venues some other time, but unfortunately Matt’s hands were tied.

“You’ve agreed to do this, Jack.” I sighed, reiterating the very thing Matt had told my boyfriend with reluctance. After all, I wasn’t exactly excited to see him leave, but at the same time, a commitment was a commitment. If he stubbornly decided not to go on top of everything they’d already cancelled, the band was cooked for sure. They had to do this tour. “Plus, I really don’t want you to disappoint the fans.”

“The fans’ll understand.” He brushed off the excuse easily, rolling his eyes as he did. “Seriously, just say the word, and I’ll give the honchos at Interscope the middle finger and sit my ass right on this couch if you want me to stay.”

I bit my lip, the offer sounding tempting as I never stopped enjoying having Jack around. Especially since I’d begun experiencing the nightmare on a regular basis, it was comforting to have him by my side when I woke up.

...but then again, having Jack around also meant the ever present concerned glances when he thought I wasn’t looking. Out of the corner of my eye, I could always feel him watching me, asking himself what else he could do to ease my mind, you know, other than take care of me, feed me, and be there for me.

I appreciated Jack’s concern. Of course I did. But after a while, day after day of being surrounded by the same distraught features wore thin fast. At least while on the road, Jack could worry about me from afar and give me time to actually breathe, for once. I loved him, but sometimes Jack really didn’t know when to give a person some space.

“You should go.” I told him with a firm nod. “Go. Have fun without me.”

He tilted his head, opening his mouth as I swore he was about to ask me again if I was sure. Luckily, before he could utter a word, Madison, who had her own suitcase resting beside her as she’d yet to put her things in the guest room, stopped him. A teasing scowl was plastered on her face as she grumbled, “She’s sure, Jack!”

He frowned at my sister for a moment as he finally dropped his hands from their resting spot on my shoulders. “Okay, fine...” He sighed, glancing up down at me with a pout. “...I’ll try to have fun, but no promises.” He paused for a second, before adding in a rush, “Just...don’t hesitate to call anytime, okay Sally? I’ve already told Kyle that if you call me while I’m on stage, he has full permission to interrupt the set and everything. Seriously, I don’t care if I’m in the middle of the best guitar solo in the world, it doesn’t matter. You’re more important.”

The corner of my lips lifted up for just the tiniest of a second, hinting at a smile, while Madison shamelessly grinned from her spot just far enough to give Jack and I our space to say goodbye. “Oh, don’t worry about her. I’ll take good care of her while you’re off entertaining the masses.” Madison chuckled. “Besides, it’ll finally give us time to get some sisterly bonding time, right, Chris?” She turned to me with a hopeful, bright smile. She even dared to wink.

Jack didn’t look so convinced, scrunching up his nose slightly as his eyes continued to stare at me, the uncertainty in his gaze saying everything he couldn’t.

Knowing that Jack wouldn’t budge until I could convince him I’d be just fine with Madison for a month, I pressed firmly, cracking that already half way there smirk a bit farther into a rather convincing grin of confidence. “Jack, go. I’ll be fine with Madison and you’ll be back before you can even begin to miss me.” I then pressed my lips to his and he immediately sunk towards me, allowing our mouths to mingle and meld in perfect harmony.

As we parted, he kept his forehead pressed to mine, muttering horsely, “I doubt that.” He chuckled as he added, smirking, “I already miss you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a dork.”

He didn’t miss a beat, stealing yet another kiss before he straightened back up. “Yeah, a dork who loves the crap out of you.”

“And I love the crap out of you.” I responded with the same matter-of-fact tone Jack had. But then, I could hear the car out front honk impatiently, waiting for Jack so they could make it to the airport in time, and suddenly our time together was dwindled down to nothing. He had to go share his goofball charm to the masses, and I sighed, realizing that no matter what, accident or not, I’d always have to share Jack with the world. I could feel my smile fade as I added in seriousness, the sorrow once again taking over me, “Be safe on the road, okay? Oh, and tell the guys I say hi.”

He nodded, shifting his weight as he pulled out the handle to the wheeled luggage bag until it locked in place with a light click. “Will do. Bye, Sally.” He gave one last quick peck. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” I waved as Madison rose from her spot in the sidelines to hold the door open for Jack.

He smiled gratefully at her. “Thanks, Madison. For everything.” He told her once he’d passed by, allowing the screen door to fully shut behind him. He then turned around, glancing at me once last time through the meshed fabric of the screen door before adjusting his gaze back to Madison. “Take care of her?”

She nodded softly. “I will.”

His lips raised into a small smile, still looking a bit unsure of his decision to leave. But, then the driver to the car honked again, adding an expletive for emphasis that made it clear if Jack dragged his feet any longer saying goodbye, that he’d have to walk to the airport. So, before the driver could get any more disgruntled, Jack reluctantly walked down to the car, waving at us one last time before getting in. Then, the car drove off and he was gone, nothing but taillights in the distance.

I stared at the spot he’d been in for a good minute or two, lost in my own thoughts as I imagined him still there, still with me. But, as things always seemed to go as of late, the daydream quickly turned south and suddenly, Jack wasn’t leaving for tour--he was leaving me. I could picture him shouting that I’d changed, that he couldn’t handle losing the baby, that we were too broken and too beyond repair to fix--

“You okay?” Madison’s voice broke through my thoughts, making me jolt as I snapped myself out of it.

“Yeah, yeah.” I stuttered, shaking my head as I tried to rid myself of such negative thoughts. I sniffed and swallowed hard, finding it troubling that I had to remind myself that he would return in a month. He wasn’t leaving me for good. He’d be back. He’d be back. “I’m fine...”

Notes

Awwww more drama :( This chapter, especially the first part, was difficult to write. I just want to see Chris happy again, but of course it'll take some time...

Opening lyrics are from "Everything's An Illusion" by Mayday Parade. Don't forget to rate/review/subscribe if you haven't already. Enjoy!