“You said she still has life in her, right?” I wrapped my arms tighter around Betsy, who was too busy sobbing her eyes out.
“Y-yesh. Sh-she in a-a-a c-coma,” she was blubbering into my shoulder.
Apparently one of her friends was caught in a apartment fire and was injured. She’s in a coma. Probably the same one that took out that magical girl, can’t be too many giant apartment complex fires in one college town. She was also apparently fighting with her boyfriend who I thought she’d break up with by now, and the girl she fell for has gone missing. Thankfully she still has some friends not in comas or missing. Also her folks, at least nowadays, and I. She always drew her strength from those she cared about. The flip-side of that was this; I remember when Vicky broke her ankle back when I was a senior Betsy almost seemed to feel it more than her. She was the captain at that point, however. She couldn’t afford to show that.
Maryanne walked into the room and saw Betsy still crying, mouthed something about dinner, and walked out again. I looked at the time and, sure enough, it was nearly 7. We should get some food in her, she showed up early this morning, and hadn’t stopped crying since. Definitely didn’t eat. Shit, I never realized how big a wound having an open heart heart could give you. I guess there was a reason they called it a bleeding heart, but hey. I guess that’s cause I was the cynical rock. Still, even if we hadn’t been as friendly as we were, she is still the reason I managed to get through the last half of senior year with as little bullying as I did. She’d always had a good heart, and so deserved to have others rest as her supports. I shifted my grip to rub her back, as I slowly began to smell food coming from the kitchenette. I was the better chef, between Maryanne and I, but she was good enough and I served much better in this role right now.
“That smell. Is, is that dinner? S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stay so- so late. I’ll get going.”
“No. Its fine. Its fine. You’re a mess. Eat with us, stay the night, and we’ll get you back tomorrow. I think Mary’s free all day, and I know I am, so one of us can drive you in the car.”
“Th-thank you. But, no. Th-there’s a vigil back at school. For… for Kim. And, I want… I need to go. Thank you for just putting up with with me all day, and…”
“Sh, sh. Sh. Its okay, we aren’t just putting up with you, like you are some kind of trouble. You’re my friend, and if Mary’d met you before this I’m sure she’d second me on that. And what are friends for, if not for helping each other through tough times. I told you in high school, and I’ll say it again now. You ever need a shoulder to cry on, you just tell your Senpai, and she’ll offer one right up.”
“Thanks. Truly. I, I know this is stupid, but. I thought I’d grown past it. I thought I could handle it on my own now.”
“The greatest lie of growing up, is that you need to handle anything alone. You always have the right to ask for help if you need it.”
“Thanks.”
She drifted off into quiet sobs, no longer turning my shoulder to a river mouth, and my cleavage to a river basin. Of course, this would be the fourth time she got somewhat composed in the last couple hours, so I wasn’t ruling her crying as done yet. But she said she wanted to get back in time for a vigil, so I would respect that. Thoughts and prayers. And maybe some of that college money going towards getting one of their students better. Maybe if it had been something more low key, but seeing as she’d been injured in an attack that also seemingly offed on of the new magical girls protecting the area, there’d probably be an outpouring of support for the girl. After a bit, however, I prompted Betsy.
“You want something to eat before you go? Mary makes a pretty good stir fry.”
Betsy opened her mouth as if to speak, then just closed it and nodded, wiping away tears. I was going to be up all night in case she needed to call, I just knew it. Dinner was quick and quiet, as I guessed Mary made stir-fry, that being her best dish, and we all got in the car to see her off to the station. I offered to ride back with her, in case she needed a shoulder still, but she turned me down. She said she was feeling better now. While I was sure that was somewhat true, I still worried, but I was a friend not a helicopter mom, so I let her board alone and go. I sighed loudly as the train pulled away, wished that I hadn’t quit vaping, and walked outside to get some fresh-ish night air. I didn’t see her (it? her) at first, probably because it was so dark. Also probably because she had no defined outline, more like smoke or vapor, or shadow, dancing in the wind. Leaking out from what should have been a solid form. She was watching what would have been Betsy’s train. Something in me told me that to be noticed by her, to talk to her, would be dangerous. A bad idea. I ignored it like I had been so great at doing back when I was 15.
“Hey,” it somehow got colder as I got close to her, and the world seemed dimmer.
“Hi,” her voice was barely there, like a whisper on the wind.
“I don’t know why I feel like this is pertinent, but you here for her?”
“Are you the one that showed her those Japanese comic books she talked about?”
“Mhm.”
We just stood there in silence, my ears focused to hear the slightest sound from her thanks to how quiet her voice is.
“I hurt her. I’m the reason this happened. I-I didn’t want to. I just, I just can’t not. ANd I alREady feEl mySElf- ugh,” the billowing smoke or whatever seemed to violent erupt for a moment, becoming much more voluminous and completely erasing the world for a moment, before she pulled it back with an effort, leaving herself panting from the exertion. “I feel myself devolving again.”
“Sounds like you need as much help as she does.”
“Yes. But who can help? Who would want to?”
“I don’t know. But I’’m at least willing to listen. And I know damn well that, if she knew, she’d be willing to help if she knows you half as well as you seem to know imply. She doesn’t just tell everyone about those manga, too embarrassed.”
And the head turned to face me, and I saw it was featureless. And some small, primitive part of me quaked in fear, as my body grew cold. And the sound disappeared, and all was void. And yet, she spoke. We spoke. It hurt. And the next thing I felt was my shoulder being shaken, as my vision came back and I saw Maryanne, sweet, lovely, caring, beautiful Maryanne leaning over me, shaking my shoulder, begging me to wake up. I tasted copper. Blood. And I had two thoughts; that bitch and Johanna.
