Switch.
Inspired by Lizzy McAlphine's "Ceilings
“Kiss me…” My whisper travels across what pretends to be space between him and I. This is routine–a walk back from school, silent but comfortable. He’d buy me a chocolate doughnut from the store on our way to my place, and I’d buy him an energy drink because I felt bad. He’d leave me at my door, kiss my forehead (barely), and just before he pulled away, I would ask for a kiss. Just one, real and definitive, because the more he continued to refuse me, the more unsure I’d be about us… about how real this was. And like routine, today he looks at me with a wary smile. “Not now,” He whispers back. Not ever… I think as he pulls a braid behind my hair and looks at me like he’s sorry before walking away, the can in his hand and all. Sucking in as much air as I can, I force myself to forget the rejection that crawls up my throat and open the door.
Anya is on the other side. This is not routine. “Hi… you’re usually not home until 8…” I say, watching her as I close the front door. Why does she have that look on her face? She rarely ever looks guilty. She plays with her fingers. Not good.
“My… I didn’t go to work today.” Her voice shakes slightly. I contemplate going back out the door. “I wanted to talk, Vera.”
“About what?”
“You should probably eat first.”
“No, it’s okay. You look worried.” I drop my bag, and start when I hear a metallic pop and a fizzing sound instead of the usual thud any normal bag makes. Anya gets up to help as I pick my bag back up, now soaking with Nemo’s drink. “Oh shoot… I forgot to give it to him…” I mutter as I quickly take out my notebooks and a copy of ‘Where The Lemon Trees Grow’, now partially soaked by the liquid sugar.
Anya freezes, then turns away. Confused, I follow her to the couch, where someone else sits. A man, considerably old at age, watching me cautiously. My eyes goes back to Anya, who is now nervous as ever. “… didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”
Anya shakes her head with a nervous laugh. “No, you misunderstand.” She fidgets with her hands again. “Vera, this is Dr. Montgomery. He’s… a psychiatrist from Fairville’s Institute for Mental Wellness,” she turns to the doctor, and he smiles and stands. It looks performed.
“Dr. Monty for short. It’s nice to finally meet you, Vera,” He greets and holds out a hand, which I shake with growing reluctance. Finally? I glance at Anya. The look on her face is one I saw one too many times. On Nemo. “Anya… what does he mean?” Dr. Montgo… Dr. Monty goes back to his seat.
Anya fidgets again, and my eye twitches. “What does he mean, Anya?”
“Vera,” She begins, and she sounds like speaking is a crime she’s being forced to commit. “That was… the 63rd can of Switch you ”forgot” to give him in a row.”
Against my will, and every fibre of my being, the pieces slowly fall into place. She’s right. “No, you’re wrong. I watch him take his drink home with him after leaving me at my door… ” I trail off. Looking back to my bag, still wet on the table next to the door… Nemo then enters the front door, looking right at me and shaking his head. Weird, I was sure I locked it. He also looks worried.
“Don’t listen to them,” he says as he makes his way to stand right beside me. I look back at Anya and the doctor.
“See? He’s right here, and he’ll tell you he takes them home sometimes… I might have just forgotten to give it to him today… Nemo, tell them.” I say, looking at him and back to the pair. Anya… looks paler than usual. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Vera, don’t…” Nemo warns. I look back to him and he looks at me, almost resigned.
“Why? Just tell them you take the energy drink I buy for you home with you.”
“Miss…” Dr. Monty speaks with a grave voice. “I don’t see anyone there.”
Against my will, and every fibre of my being, the pieces slowly continue to fall into place. I don’t look away from Nemo. He’s right here. They are lying. “You look sick, Nemo. Are you okay? Do you want to go home?”
“Vera, Nemo was buried two months ago.”
“No, Anya, he’s right here… I can see him. He’s right here.”
Nemo stares right back at me. He is right here. I can see him. “Nemo?”
He smiles a sad smile. No. “Yes, Vera?”
“Kiss me…”
…
And like routine, he looks at me with a wary smile. “Not now,” He whispers back. Not ever. I think he pulls a braid behind my hair and looks at me like he’s sorry before Anya and the doctor drag me away from his ghost, my brokenhearted mind in his hand and all.
— A <3