We all have hearts that beat
You're nodding, but are you listening?
Your lips move,
No one makes a sound
You listening?
Are you listening?

I’d like to say that those first few days Jack was away I was totally fine. That after almost a month straight of fear inducing nightmares, it turned out all I needed was some good ol’ ‘sisterly bonding time’ as Madison so optimistically put it.

But I’d be lying if I did.

In fact, having Jack away only seemed to make the night terrors worse to the point that I was seriously weighting the pros and cons of sleeping. As it was, my rest had substantially dwindled down from the twenty-odd hours I’d been packing in initially thanks to the pain meds, to a mere five practically overnight. It was all I could really handle to minimize the mental torture I’d been going though and naturally, it didn’t take long for the fogginess to creep in. I felt like I was never totally there, my mind hooked on the nightmares with Melody. It was all I could think about, asleep or not.

I didn’t think Madison noticed, and if she did I hoped she’d chalk it up to the long marathoning of Buffy the Vampire Slayer we’d been indulging in ever since Jack’d left. She’d brought over the the box set in hopes of distracting me from Jack’s absence and, to her credit, she did a pretty good job. We ended up marathoning the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer the first night alone, a show we both used to watch religiously up until it ended in 2003. Well, to be specific, she watched it religiously while I watched it with her, trying hard to understand what the heck was going on half the time.

I was still a kid, after all.

But this was how it went for a bit. We shamelessly watched the adventures of the chosen one, getting lost in the Scooby gang’s world for those forty or so minutes, repeating this episode after episode until eventually our eyes couldn’t take it anymore, begging us for sleep. I’d crawl into bed at this point with Madison’s assistance thanks to the bending over and such. And, once I assured her I was good for the night, she’d go off to the guest bedroom, leaving me alone in my darkened bedroom.

Those first few days I fought back the urge to sleep to no avail. My trauma-torn body wouldn’t settle for anything less, so I was forced to face the image of my daughter once again as the blame she was placing on me was becoming harder and harder to deny.

But then, I grew wise.

Once Madison shut the lights off and made her way down the hall to the guest room, I waited until the apartment grew silent, until I was absolutely positive she was out for the count. Then, very, very carefully, I managed to get myself up and out of bed thanks to the crutches left by the nightstand. I took my time, taking each step with precision as I knew one wrong move and I could unintentionally make just enough noise to wake my sister. She’d always been a light sleeper, so I was walking a very fine line trying to sneak around her like I was.

Fine line or not, it had become the only way I could avoid the nightmares. I had to. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see her face. Maybe that’s why, in those wee small hours of the morning, I found myself in front of her room.

It was still incomplete, obviously. When the accident occurred, we still had three months before she was even due, so we thought we still had time. The crib was still a heap on the floor, untouched since being unboxed as I remembered Jack’s promise to me that he’d get to putting it together as soon as he had the chance.

No point in that now, I guess...

I then looked up at the walls we’d painted a pale yellow, a compromise as we agreed to wait until the baby was born to learn if the baby was a boy or a girl. When we’d picked the color, it instantly put a smile on my face, reminding me of Winnie the Pooh, which was why I’d decided to accent the top of the walls with bumblebees, clumsily ‘flying’ around the perimeter of the small room. But now, instead of smiling at the sight of Winnie the Pooh inspired decorations, I just frowned. The moonlight peaking thru the blinds put a sickly grey tinge to the room, as if it was sucking out all the color in front of me.

I shook my head, wondering why the hell I’d always go in here. It never did any good, and it never hurt any less. As if to prove my point, I could feel my throat suddenly grow tight as the emotions began to bubble.

It was like I was driving a stake through my heart every night, just to remind myself of the true nightmare. My baby was dead, and nothing would ever bring her back.

All because I--

I drew a sharp breath as I shook my head violently once more. No. I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t responsible.

Then why are you torturing yourself going in here every night? A voice in the back of my mind shot back, and instantly, I gulped.

“I just miss her.” I responded with a sniff, my voice barely above a whisper.

Do you miss her or do you feel guilty for letting it happen to her in the first place? The voice continued to argue.

I swallowed hard, the familiar feeling of tears touching my skin as the warm salty liquid silently ran down my cheeks. “I didn’t know. I couldn’t--” I babbled, my voice practically a squeak as my whisper turned into a gasp as I fought to control myself.

It was all in my head, I tried desperately to remind myself. None of this was my fault. I couldn’t have known going into that car would change my life like that. No one could have known--

I froze as my gaze fell onto the small Tigger stuffed animal Jack had bought for the baby to go along with the theme of the room. I remembered the day he got it. He was so excited about having a child of his own, I had to practically stop him from buying every single item in the baby store. Before we were sure to go bankrupt on cute baby clothes alone, I convinced him that he could buy one special item for the baby, but everything else had to be out of absolute necessity, not because it was ‘cute’. We may be 'rockstars' but we weren’t made out of money.

It took some digging, but he eventually returned with the very plush my eyes were hypnotized by. I’d asked him why he’d come to that conclusion as, truth be told, I totally expected him to come back with a very cool looking child-sized white sedan, something he’d been eyeing since walking into the store. But instead, he came back with a soft, baby friendly plush toy shaped like Tigger. He told me it was because he was sure our child was bound to be like him, energy wise. He or she would be our little bouncing ball of joy. Our Tigger.

I let out a soft sob as I knew our ‘Tigger’, our Melody would never be. I reached out, brushing the tips of my fingers against the delicately soft fur of the toy. It felt cold, having been left untouched since it was placed on top of the small white dresser. Immediately I flinched, pulling my hand back at the shock of the cold. It was fitting, I guess. The coldness matched the emptiness of the rest of the room, the emptiness I was feeling in my heart. Eventually, we’d have to clear everything out and maybe make it into an office or something, but for now, it was a shrine of what we’d lost. Of what we were so close to having.

I pressed my trembling lips together, slowly and carefully hopping forward to the rocking chair just to the right of the unbuilt crib. Delicately, I turned myself around and eased myself into the tall wooden chair, using the crutches to make sure the chair didn’t rock back too far or squeak too loudly to wake my sister. Then, once I was sure the chair had calmed down, I released my grip on my crutches, setting them against the wall as I let my body have a breather.

I’d stay there for hours, in that silent room, reminiscing of the days before I had to use those godforsaken crutches, daydreaming of what could’ve been. There I’d stay until eventually my temples revolted, pounding out a headache I could no longer ignore. Eventually I’d creep out, returning to my room without a sound as I finally succumbed to sleep, bracing myself for the inevitable nightmare that was to come.

~*~

A few weeks went by, this twisted routine of mine becoming more and more emotionally wearing. I knew I was torturing myself, but I really didn’t know what to do. It was like I was picking the lesser of two evils, dwelling on the loss of Melody on my own or actually getting some rest and letting the apparition in my mind blame me for her death night after night.

I was wearing thin. It was becoming harder to fake a smile, fake a laugh. It got to the point where I began isolating myself, only limiting my contact to Madison, Jack and occasionally my mom.

By this point, it was impossible for Madison not to know something was up with me. As it was, the dark circles under my bleary eyes were hard to ignore. “So...uh, Cass called earlier.” She told me one afternoon. “She wanted to know how you’ve been.”

I barely glanced at her, keeping my focus on the book in my lap. My dad had recommended it, though I’d honestly been staring at the same sentence for the past half hour, I could hardly focus. “What’d you tell her?”

“I told her that you’re surviving.” She responded carefully, and I could feel her gaze upon me, observing every twitch, every vocalization in hopes of using her erie observation skills in getting down to the bottom of what was bothering me. “Jo called again, too...she’s really worried about you, you know? She asked me if you were mad at her.”

I shook my head, probably too quickly if I actually wanted to be convincing. “No, why would I be mad at her?”

She just shrugged, walking a few steps so she was now standing in front of me, her shadow falling over the page I’d been staring at. Reluctantly I raised my tired grey eyes to meet hers. “You tell me.”

“I’m not mad at her.” I sighed, flipping my book closed with an annoyed groan. “I just need a breather, okay? It’s not her fault, I promise.”

Her gaze softened, and for a second I thought my simple response might’ve been enough for her to drop it. But then, she pressed on, “So if you’re not mad at her, then you wouldn’t mind talking to her the next time she calls?” I opened my mouth to protest, but Madison stubbornly continued. “Just to assure her she didn’t do anything wrong, alright? She’s been freaking out she did something to piss you off--”

“Fine, I’ll talk to her, okay?” I cut her off as the image of Jo in my dream flashed before my eyes. For the most part, I imagined her looking the same as she currently was. She was still the same strong, confident woman I’d found myself looking up to, but of course that version of her still had one thing that she didn’t, and hopefully never would: Jack.

I knew it was an absurd thought, the two of them together. But at the same time, it wouldn’t have hurt so much if I thought it could be at least a little possible, right?

I didn’t blame Jo. I knew it wasn’t her fault I was shunning her. Yet, realizing this wasn’t enough for my mind to differentiate her from the dream version of her. I wasn’t ready to move on from it. Not yet.

Madison flinched at my harsh reaction. “You sure you’re not angry?” She asked timidly, wincing.

“I’m just...” I pressed my lips as I dropped the book to my lap, running my hands down my face in exasperation. I mumbled tiredly through my fingers, “I’m good.”

She eyed me for a moment, looking seconds away from calling me out on my bullshit, but luckily the phone rang. I looked over to the wireless phone stand and snatched the electronic device as soon as I saw the caller ID: Jack.

“I got it.” I told her, pressing the green answer button before she could even think about continuing our conversation. “Hey, you.” I greeted, my exhausted mind finding just enough energy to smile into the phone.

“Hey babe...” Jack’s warm voice was like music to my ears, distracting me with his goofy tone, if only for a bit. He called often, sometimes twice a day, and it was the one thing that I could say without a doubt I looked forward to. “How have you been?”

I shrugged lazily while Madison rolled her eyes in annoyance before leaving the room all together. “Not bad. I’m still stuck on the couch for the most part, but I can almost bend over without my side hurting like hell.”

“That’s great, Sally!” He responded, happy to hear I was physically healing well.

“And what about you? How have the shows been since Dirty Work was released?”

“They’ve been great, though there are still a few who really vocalize their hate of the new single, so that’s been weird. We’ve never really gotten hate like that before, from our fans, anyway...”

All Time Low’s new single, “I Feel Like Dancin’” had been met with mixed reviews, to put it lightly. Looking at the song as is, it was as if the band was trying desperately to have the ideal Top 40 radio hit and thusly many accused them of selling out. Yet, if any of those accusers bothered to really think about the lyrics (which were so ridiculous, they were funny) then they’d realize the song was a satire on those very same pop tunes. Plus, there was also the fact that Alex wrote the song with Rivers Cuomo from Weezer, who was well known for writing whatever the fuck he wanted, ‘radio friendly’ or not. So yeah, they were total sell outs.

...kidding.

“They’ll come around.” I assured Jack. “Plus, now that the album is out, you guys can finally start playing more than just the single. So, you know, even if they don’t like the single, maybe they’ll like something else off the record?”

He sighed. “Yeah, maybe...” He paused for a second, voice down for just a beat before he added excitedly, “Oh, guess who’s hanging with us today?”

I raised a brow. “Who?”

“Jo! She and Mark decided to stop by since we’re in Philly right now and they were up to hanging out since Midnight is on hiatus and stuff. She was just asking me about you, actually.”

I gulped, my body rigid as I replied, teeth clenched in an unnatural smile. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah...she said she thinks you’re mad at her, which I assured her was completely ridiculous. She’s one of your closest friends!”

I forced a laugh. “Yeah, of course. Ridiculous.” I bit my lip. “I’ll, uh, make sure to give her a call.”

“She’s actually just down the hall if you want to--”

“No, it’s fine!” I stopped him before he could even think of finishing that sentence. I winced, realizing how strange I must’ve sounded. Immediately I tried to back track. “I mean, you must be busy and I don’t want to waste your time talking to Jo...”

Yeah. That’s better...

“If you wanna talk to Jo, it’s fine. I still have like, an hour of nothing to do before we have to do meet and greet.”

“Yeah, you have to.” I pressed my lips as I teased, hoping my best to keep him on the phone rather than him passing it off to Jo. Again, not that I hated her or anything but I was still totally not ready to talk to her. “It’s such torture, you meeting your adoring fans...tell me, was it such torture the day we met?”

“Hey, you’ve got me there.” He chuckled at the memory. “Damn, it’s hard to believe that almost two years ago, we met at one of those things.”

“And I caught your attention all because of a tattoo.” I sighed, glancing down at the colorful artwork on my left arm.

“It is a fucking sweet tat.” He laughed. “I’m telling you, I knew you were it for me the second I saw it.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. You kept thanking Alex for finding ‘your Sally’, remember?”

“Hey, I wasn’t wrong. You are my Sally.” He paused then, letting the silence fill the void as someone could be heard talking in the background. The voice was muffled and breaking up, so I couldn’t place it. But then Jack sighed, sorrow evident. “Crap, I have to go--I guess there’s one last interview Matt was hoping to fit in before showtime and Alex doesn’t want to do it alone. Now I...I know things have been tough for you, and before you try to deny it, Madison has been keeping me up to date so you can’t deny it even if you wanted to. I wish like hell I could be there right now to help, but just remember I love you, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

I leaned forward, peering towards the hall where Madison had disappeared to, hoping to give her the stink eye for tattling on me like that, but all I could see was an empty hallway. Frowning, I fell back as I grumbled back an, “I love you, too.”

“Try to enjoy yourself while I’m gone, okay?” Jack pressed on. “Maybe ask Pete to go hang out at Angels and Kings for a bit, you know, just to get out?”

I rolled my eyes at the idea. “I don’t really think making a fool of myself in front of more people I idolize is the best idea, Jack.”

“Who says you’ll make a fool of yourself?”

“I just know myself. Look--” I sighed before he could protest about me underestimating myself. “I appreciate the suggestion, but I really don’t think I’m up to it right now. I’ve just been dealing with--” I stopped, eyes widening as the words almost slipped out that I’d been having reoccurring nightmares. I really didn’t want Jack to know, as it was one more reason he’d feel guilty for leaving me behind. And I especially didn’t want to tell him that the star of said nightmares was none other than our deceased daughter. That was sure to worry him.

“You’ve been dealing with what?”

“My leg.” I stuttered a quick response. “It’s still hell to get around, you know? I don’t want to even bother going out like that.”

“Oh...well the brace’ll only be on a few more weeks, right?”

I nodded into the phone. “Yeah and then hopefully I can say goodbye to this sucker for good.” I pointed down to the bulky brace that had been placed on the lower half of my left leg, scrunching my nose as I did so. I hated that thing.

“Yeah, hopefully.” Jack agreed with a chuckle. “Just...after the brace is off, don’t hesitate to go out and have fun, okay? I give you permission to get shit faced if you feel like you need to...not that you need my permission anyway, but you know what I mean.”

“I think so.” I smirked. “Anyway I don’t wanna hold up that interview of yours any longer, so...” My voice faded while Jack cursed.

“Shit, I almost forgot...” He gave out a reluctant sigh. “Okay, well I’ll talk to you after the show?”

I bobbed my head. “Yep. I’ll be here.”

It took a bit more convincing, but I was eventually able to convince Jack to hang up and join Alex in that interview. I hated that he was so worried. Even when he twenty five hundred miles away, I was all he could seem to think about.

“Madison!” I called out once the phone was hung up and placed back in its holder.

She appeared a moment later, stepping out from her closed bedroom door. “What?”

“What the hell?” I hissed. “What did you tell Jack?”

She shrugged lamely. “I just told him the truth. That you’ve been extra mopey and ho-hummy. Is that not accurate?”

“So what if I am? I’m grieving.” I scowled.

“I know you are, but there’s a healthy was to grieve and an unhealthy way and Chris, trust me when I say you’re verging on the unhealthy.” She crossed her arms firmly in front of her chest, raising her nose in that pretentious sort of way when she went all psychology major on my ass. “I’ve been trying to get you talk to people, to do things you used to do before all of this, but all you seem to want to do is shut us out, one by one.”

I blinked, confused by her conclusion. “I haven’t shut you out.”

“Not yet, you haven’t.” She countered.

I stared at her for a moment, taking in her words with confusion before snapping out of it, grumbling stubbornly, “Look, I’m fine, okay? I’m not shutting anyone out.” I threw a hand as I added in afterthought, “And I already told Jack I’ll call Jo.” To further my commitment to calling Jo, I grabbed the very phone I’d hung up a few minutes before, holding it up as if I was a motion away from calling the guitarist.

She narrowed her eyes at me, and for a second I thought she might doubt my words. Hell, I was. But then her gaze softened and she let out a smile in relief, pleased to hear I wasn’t ignoring Jo after all. I knew it wouldn’t completely diminish her worry, but it was a start. “Okay, well that’s great.” She paused, her genuine smile faltering as she added hesitantly, “Just...don’t forget, we’re all here if you need us.”

The ends of my lips curled up in a soft, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of smile as I nodded with as much assurance in my voice as possible, “I won’t forget.”

Notes

Don't have much to say on this chapter...it's kind of a filler, just emphasizing how Chris is having a hard time even more so now that Jack is on tour.

Opening lyrics are from "Listening" by Tonight Alive. Enjoy and don't forget to comment/review/subscribe if you haven't already :)