Day 11: Silver Linings

Dedicated to: Alice Sutcliffe



Charlotte

‘Charlotte, are you OK?’
My concentration is snatched from my routine. I grip the sink and clench my jaw to keep my temper. It’s not your fault. 
‘Just a couple more minutes’ I reply. 
I take a deep breath and stare at my reflection, waiting to feel OK.

I start again.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
The woman in perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment
The illusion of Greek necessity 
Flows in the scrolls of her toga
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.[i]
It is over
It is over
It is over
It is over
It is over
It is over
Seven, six, five, four, three, two one.

I breathe in, still gripping the sink. 
‘Charlotte?’
Exhale slowly. At least I finished it this time. 
‘Coming.’
I’ve fucked up again. I’m so sorry Neena.



Neena

You emerge from the bathroom at last, red rings beneath your eyes. I thought this holiday would be good for you, but you seem edgier than ever. I want to hug you, but I think you’d be embarrassed if you knew I could tell. And I don’t want to seem bossy but I ask as gently as possible, ‘ready to leave?’, just to fill the silence. 
‘Yes ready.’

And so we start to leave, except you’re not really ready, you’re never ready. You rummage in your beach bag, pretending to check for your sunglasses. You brush past the bed, then turn back to brush past it the other way. You stop in your tracks and stand completely still for 15 seconds at a time. And I know not to stop you, to let you finish whatever you’re doing; so as the minutes we could be on the beach tick by, I sit on a chair and pretend to read my book. If I say, ‘are you OK?’ or ask if I can help, you’ll spend ages apologising, so I pretend I’m not annoyed.

I check my phone. It’s been 15 minutes since you left the bathroom. I don’t think we will make the tour tomorrow somehow, but I guess that’s OK. Should I suggest we cancel it?

You make it to the door at last and pause there.
I promise it will be OK. You will like it once you’re out there like yesterday. You will be safe. 
I stand and pick up my bag, ready to follow you out. You turn around and disappear into the bathroom again.



Charlotte

I know, I fucked up. I am a fuck up. A fucking fucking fuck up. We’re walking down the esplanade now and I am trying so, so hard to just keep going, one foot in front of the other like everyone else. But then I step on something small and hard. 
Is it an animal? It’s probably a stone. It might be a snail. Did it rain last night? Whatever you do, don’t look. 
I feel sick.

You stop to read a restaurant menu for later. I could cry with relief. If you can stop, I can stop. I look down.
Not a snail. A stone… definitely a stone. Definitely, definitely, definitely a stone. 
Stop looking now. Stop looking. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. It’s a stone. Seven six five four three two one. 
OK, no need to look any closer. No need to do it again. Not a snail. Shit. There I go. Not a snail. Not a snail. Not a snail. Not a snail. Not a snail. Seven six five four three two one. 

You’ve stopped reading the menu and are waiting for me. When did that happen? Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m a fuck up. 
‘Coming.’
You take my hand. If I look at you I’ll cry.
‘I’m sorry’ I whisper. 
‘It doesn’t matter.’
You’re being so kind and gentle, the words come out before I can stop them.
‘I think I am bad.’
‘You’re not bad.’

The relief of reassurance floods over me. I want to jump for joy. We shouldn’t have done that.



Neena

We’ve made it to the beach, at last. It’s a beautiful day, and we got here by midday. Soon everyone will go inside for a siesta, except us, and we’ll have the beach to ourselves. I wonder if that’s what you wanted?

This spot seems far away enough from everyone.
‘Shall we sit down here?’ I try.
I watch you assess our surroundings. There’s a couple about 20 yards away, but they don’t seem to have kids. Next nearest to us is a loud group of teenagers. That’s OK surely? 
‘Charlotte?’
You look the way you do when you’re about to do something you don’t want. Should I make you? Should we walk further?
‘Charlotte?’
You smile. It looks painful. 
‘Yes, let’s sit here!’ you say, far too brightly.
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’



Charlotte

I’m lying with my headphones in. They don’t drown out the thoughts, but they drown out the noise of all the people around us. They drown out the sea too, but needs must. My eyes are closed and the sun is on my face. A light breeze blows across my skin. These sensations are precious, because they transcend timelines and thoughts. They are feelings I have always known, before I knew words and ideas and myself, from before I was bad. 
Thank you for bringing me here Neena. I’d love you if I wasn’t so bad.



Neena

It’s hot and the sea looks delicious. You look peaceful at last, more peaceful than last night when you thrashed and whimpered in your sleep. Are you asleep now? I don’t want to, but I have to nudge you to let you know I’m getting in.
Going for a swim… you wanna come with?’
To my great surprise you say, ‘I’d love to!’ straight away.

Excellent. You’re even quick (for you) to take off your clothes and bundle them into your bag. We walk towards the sea. Your head is down and you move slowly, but you do keep on moving, shaking your head from time to time. I take your hand.

The wet sand is squelchy and the sea is warm, almost bathwater warm. We walk on, hand in hand. When the sea reaches our nipples we squeal and I look at you and you really smile. I knew you were in there.
‘Neena’ you say, ‘I’m going in.’
And then we’re swimming breaststroke against the tide. The waves are gentle, some barely splash us. It’s perfect. Soon you’re ahead of me and I watch you go, back into another world of your own. I hope it’s happy there.



Charlotte

I love the sea. I always have. I’m not the strongest or fastest swimmer, that’s always been Neena, but I feel like I can go on forever.

The thoughts are with me still. They never go. The child at the beach in his Nemo shorts. What kind of person even notices a child’s shorts? A disgusting person. I keep swimming.

Did I hurt him? 
The thought jumps out at me, like a predator from my own mind.
No, Neena was there. She’d have stopped me… 
Wait, was she there the whole time? 
Yes, yes, for fucking fuck fuck’s sake yes. You know this.

I keep swimming, the fear going down.

Did I kidnap him then drown him?
No.
How can you be sure?
FUCK FUCK FUCK I WANT TO DIE. FUCK. I WANT TO DIE. FUCK. I WANT TO DIE. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 
Keep swimming.
Seven six five four three two one. 
Will my mind ever be clean? I’m getting tired but I keep swimming, further from the shore and further from my thoughts. I won’t let them in, I’ll keep counting. The sea is so kind and forgiving, I’ll aim for that rock.

One two three four five six seven.
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. 
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. 
Seven six five four three two one. 
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. 
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well.

Keep swimming.
One two three four five six seven.
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well. 
And all will be well. And all will be well. And all will be well.

I feel free. I can’t hear anything but the sound of the waves.
Seven six five…
I can’t move
Four three
I’m not moving. 
Two.
I’m not moving.
One.
I can’t move. 
I try to turn and swim back. I can’t.

One.
It’s no good counting but my brain does it anyway.
Two.
My arms move, my legs move, but I stay put. 
Three
My legs aren’t behind me, they’re beneath me.
Four
I can’t move at all. I gasp for breath.
Five
The sun is still on my face.
Six
I’m being pulled under
Seven
This is it. My head is under water. I hold my breath. I can still see the sun but the salt’s burning my eyes.

Sevensixfive
My mind rushes. My muscles scream. 
Fourthree
I have to breathe. 
Twoone
I gasp. The feeling is like hot lava burning my chest.

I’m dying.  I’m sorry. It’s for the best.



Neena

I’ve got you.

I lean back, careful to keep my head and yours above water. You are motionless. I’ve never had to do this in real life. I pull us both, parallel to the shore and kick gently, conserving my energy. I’ve never been so scared and so calm. I tried to call for help but no-one came. The current keeps pulling us. It can’t last much longer. I can’t last much longer.

You cannot fucking die.



Charlotte

I’m on the sand on all fours. I have no idea how I got here. As I vomit out what feels like all of my insides, all I see are shadows. I’ve never been in so much pain. I black out.

When I open my eyes, there’s a man next to me. Was he here before? He’s touching me, putting towel around my shoulders and saying something I don’t understand. I panic. Not remembering is my worst fear.

Where are you? 
‘Where’s Neena?’ 
I don’t think the words came out because he’s just looking at me. 
‘Where’s Neena?’
I’m gasping, I feel like I’m screaming but the sound that comes out is a whisper. 
‘Where’s Neena?’
I start to cry. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? 
‘WHERE’S MY FRIEND?’
I think he understood me at last. He puts a hand on my shoulder and looks at me kindly. 
‘Your friend? She’s there.’
He gestures. I turn, slowly and painfully. You’re were right next to me all along. 
‘Hey trouble.’ you say.  Then you burst into tears.





Neena

‘You’re right, I am trouble’ you reply at last.
I don’t know what to say. I’m so relieved we’re both alive. And I’m terrified. And I’m furious. And I feel like shit.

You vomit again. I rub your back and keep rubbing it as the vomiting turns to sobbing. No matter how angry I am, you hate yourself enough for both of us. You always have.



Charlotte

I don’t deserve your kindness. You don’t deserve my awfulness. I’m sobbing and you are too.

Nobody says anything for a while. Eventually you ask,
‘was that an accident?’
I don’t know how to answer. 
‘Did you want to die?’
I feel tiny, dwarfed by the question. You’re silent, waiting for my reply. The answer comes from somewhere I didn’t know existed.
‘No… but I don’t think I can live.’
You don’t say anything, just keep rubbing my back. 
‘It’s the thoughts Neena. They’re all the time. Nothing stops them.’ 
‘The OCD thoughts?’
‘Yeah… I know what I’m supposed to do but they keep on coming. I’m so scared. I want to live, but not like this. I don’t want to wake up every morning. The days, the future. It’s so frightening. I’m so frightened… I’m going to do something.’ I choke on the words.
‘Well, ordinarily I’d disagree, but you did try to drown yourself today.’
‘That’s not what I mean... I don’t care about me, it’s everyone else.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m so so sorry.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ve ruined everything.’
‘Now now drama queen, you didn’t actually drown.’
‘I’m still so sorry.’
‘Stop apologising. I can put up with the rest, but please stop fucking saying you’re sorry.’
I’m silent, because I have no other words. Eventually you speak.
‘Charlotte…no matter what, I love you.’
I don’t deserve it, but you never want to hear that. I manage the words,
‘I love you too.’ 
I said it. You’re contaminated, but you already were. 
‘You’re a good person.’
I don’t believe you, but I remain silent for once and let you continue. 
‘How about, since we’re not dead and all, and I went to all that effort to save you…’
‘Sorry..’
‘Shut up. As I was saying. Maybe, for the next hour, we’ll see how it goes, you take my judgement of you as true and act… try to act accordingly.’
‘I could try.’
‘We’ll take it five minutes at a time… or even a minute.’
You really want to help me, and I decide to let you.
‘OK.’
‘We can start with walking back to the hotel. Are you OK to walk?’
‘I think so.’


You help me up. And we walk. And just for the next minute, all I feel is the moment.



2317 words






[i] Sylvia Plath, Edge

Comments

  1. Wonderful, Eve. Maybe one of the OCD charities might like to post this on their website?

    ReplyDelete

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