Chapter One: Insomnia and Conversation

I ALWAYS HATED WAKING UP IN THE MORNING. It was never something I could ever enjoy. Bliss and unrestrained emotions that floated about while I dreamt swept away in the light of the waking world. I hated it. Although on this occasion, I did not mind as much. Last night my head filled with macabre images of things not right. Things familiar to me yet twisted darkly into something unrecognizable.

"I didn't sleep well last night," I said into the telephone. "Again, and I'm starting to dread closing my eyes." I regretted the sentence immediately

"Kimberly I'm worried about you. Ever since you moved away you have been in a downward spiral." Emily voiced her concern in a worried tone. It was nothing new; she always worried too much. I further regretted saying anything about my sleeplessness.

There was a moment of silence between the both of us before it was broken again.

"You won't even tell us where you are. You know how unsettled we all are not knowing where you‘ve gone off to. What if something were to happen?"

"Like what?' I questioned her concern with a disregarding tone, "Like I get mugged or killed? I don't think I'd even care anymore." My voice was cold and caviler

"Kim, stop it! You are breaking my heart. Why won't you just come back home - we all miss you very much." Emily sounded as if she were about to break into tears, and it started to aggravated me.

I did not want to deal with this right now. Aside from being overtired, I was annoyed. I hung up the phone. A few seconds passed and it started to ring. I ignored it. Once it stopped, I waited, a few seconds later it started to ring again. Emily would do this several more times until either I answered or she decided to give up. This was nothing new, but I wondered how long until she grew tired of trying.

It was eight o‘clock, the garbage truck beeped as it backed up and I started thinking about going back to sleep - though I don’t think I could have fallen asleep even if I had wanted to. My mind was too awake now, which was surprising given the lack of sleep I have been getting. Regardless, I remained laying in bed. All I could do was stare at the ceiling and space out.

Time started to fly by and the hours passed. It was nine o’clock, then ten o’clock, and then eleven. I got up and sat at the edge of the bed. What was I going to do? Emily was right; I had to tell them where I was eventually. It stung a bit, however, they should know where I have “run off to“. It stung because the reason I had run off, was them, I just didn’t have the guts to admit to them. At any rate, Toronto was only so big, and they knew I could never bring myself to leave, not while my memories still held fresh in my mind, and, at the rate I kept reliving them, they would hold that way indefinitely unless something changed.

________________________________________________ (1)

As far as memories went they were vivid and sharp, and they burnt. It was the memory of the fire that burnt crisp in my eyes. I saw it in everything I looked at. Ordinary things would seemingly ignite and burn and for the longest time I believed they were truly burning. Pictures, clocks, household decorations, they would all swell with flame and burn before my eyes. Hallucinations or illusions my mind would create out of grief, I could not tell which, if any, they were. When it first started, it would take some time and much effort to calm me down and I was not often alone when it happened. Steven held a constant vigil over my fading sanity, a losing battle it seemed at times. I think it was some sort of atonement he felt necessary to put himself through, an attempt to redeem himself for a failure that was not his. Why he would ever feel such a thing is still to this day beyond me. It is not as if he lost anything in the fire. It was not his fiancé that burned alive, while he was held against his own will, outside, forced to listen to her scream while she died. It was my mine. He did not understand what I had lost. He could not.

I was wrong however. I was not the only one who lost something that night. The fire that started innocently enough. It was late on a Thursday evening and Ashleigh was tired from a long day. I had suggested she take a hot bath and ease her tensions, it always worked for me so she figured she would try it. Some bath salts, fancy smelling bath oils and a few candles later and she was set to relax while the day dissolved in the bath water. Slowly she began to sink into a soft mood of relaxation, and began to close her eyes. It was not long before she fell asleep. Not long after she closed her eyes, Emily and Steven showed up on our doorsteps, just shortly after 7 o’clock. As usual, they had a board game in tow. Such was our evening ritual on Thursday, wine and board games. On this particular evening, we were going to be playing Balderdash, a board game involving bluffing and trivia. I was sure to do well at this game, lying was something I did with a degree of success, not that I would boast about that skill. It was business as usual.

We started in on setting the game up and readying our snacks, and as we did so, Ashleigh had begun to finish with her bath, draining the water and stepping out of the tub. I can only guess that the seal around the tub must have been leaking, otherwise had not been so there would not have been a small pool of water on the tile floor. When she stepped out of the tub and reached for her towel, it was in those seconds that my life came crashing down. Ashleigh’s footing on the wet floor tiles slipped, she fell forward, and her arms flailed up, knocking over one of the think candles that were sitting in the counter behind the tub near the curtains. Nearly ten minutes would pass before the fire trucks arrived, and it was within those ten minutes that I lost everything precious to me.

My memory of the event is scattered and vague at best. The room caught fire and slowly spread to the other rooms of the second floor. We were oblivious to it while we prattled away downstairs in anticipation of our game, ignorant to what was going on in other parts of the house and to the cries for help coming from the bathroom. I remember hearing them, but disregarding then as background noise. It wasn’t until days after the fire then I could piece together what I had heard. It would haunt me for some time, a constant reminder of what I had forfeit. By the time we knew the house was burning, we were too panicked to think clearly. We fled, and I left Ashleigh to die in the fire.

________________________________________________ (2)

They told me it wasn’t my fault, that I didn’t leave her to die, and that there was nothing I could have done. The second floor was already too engulfed in flame, and had I gone in, I might have been killed myself - an alternative I would have almost preferred.

I was losing my grip on my sanity. Everyday that passed I blamed myself more and more for the accident. To call it an accident doesn’t do it justice enough; it was a theft, and nothing less. Some higher power saw fit to rob me of the one true person I cared for. Ashleigh and I had been together for over a year at the time, engaged to wed for just over 4 months. In the beginning of our relationship, I questioned myself constantly. Was I truly in love with her or was I fooling myself? Am I really a homosexual or was I covering something up and playing along to escape some pains? I never could answer those questions until I lost her, it all became clear when I did. She was my soul mate and when she went away, she took my soul with her.

We were so connected and very much in love and I regret not knowing if I properly expressed my feelings to her before she died. It is something that will burden me forever. All the feelings I even doubted were laid before in my moments of grief. They bore witness to what I had denied myself, pained me with regrets, and shamed me with guilt. As time passed, I started to resent Ashleigh for how she left me. It was not fair what had happened, and I saw it as a punishment for not being fully honest, with myself, or with her. It began to take its toll.

Kyle what am I going to do?” Kyle was a close friend of mine. Closer then Emily and Steven, however they did not know each other. I called him up and posted my question before he even had a chance to say ‘hello’. I saw Kyle more as my go-to person for advice I couldn’t ask other people. He was there to help me through the more difficult problems I would face, both before and after Ashleigh’s death. He often had the answer that no one else could come up with, and sometimes he did not even have the simplest answers that even a fool could realize. It was that lack of answers that helped me more, forced me to see things for myself. I highly cherished my friendship with Kyle, though, sometimes I saw him as more of an asset or resource then a friend. Nevertheless, I loved his soul immensely.

“Kim you need to figure this out for yourself. I can’t give you the answers for everything.”

“I know. I know, you are right, but I had to ask anyways. It’s become routine for me Kyle.” I knew he was right but I asked anyways, routine as it were, because I knew he would tell me it was up to me and it would force me to figure things out myself, which usually provided the best answer. Personal insight, however, was not always quick to come to me. “But I’ve been stuck - for days now - I can’t move on with my life. I can’t even move back. It is like I am stuck in a cycle. All I do is remember the fire, and it cripples me every time I do. I feel so much guilt.”

“Kimberly Ann Hurst…” Kyle almost shouted my name, as if to force me to attention, “You are guilty of only one thing, and that is loving her too much. Why can’t you see that? If you didn’t care for her, so much then this would all be easy and you would have moved on a long time ago instead of mope. You’re grieving. Why can’t you just accept that, deal with your loss and get to a point where you can start the healing?”

________________________________________________ (3)

I did not answer for what seemed a very long time. He asked me a few times if I was still there, each time I answered yes but said nothing further.
“I don’t think I want to heal.” I finally responded.

“Then you won’t. And you will never move past where you are.” Kyle answered with no emotion, only clarity of thought. “Either way you will make a decision. We both know that you don’t care which choice you make, so long as you make one.”

“And that makes me sound shallow, or something. I don’t care about the outcome, only that I reach it? That’s doesn’t sound like anything resembling helpful, Kyle.” I was almost scolding him, and in some ways, myself as well. He was right though, I would make a decision between the two and regardless which I went when I wouldn’t care. If I chose to move on and start healing -my soul, my mind, myself - then I would do so with little thought, to the actual act, as much as the reaching the act. However, the same held true if I decided to remain in my spiral of insanity. To the average observer I looked sane, looked like a typical grieving person, but I knew myself, and I wasn’t fully grieving. I was losing my mind.

“Kim I have to go, I need to get ready for work.” He began to end the conversation but hesitated for a moment, “Will you be alright? Promise me you will.”

“Of course I will. I promise” I lied.

Kyle knew it, “I believe you, and we will talk again later tonight. Love you girl.” He lied too, he did not believe me but arguing over it was pointless, I would never admit to the lie so he decided better go along with it. I did not respond, and he hung up the phone before I did finally respond.

“Love you too…Kyle” My voice was almost emotionless, my expression as well. I had drifted off into a daze.

It was in those dazes that I found the biggest reprieve. I would get lost in a void of nothingness where I felt no pain or guilt, no emotions whatsoever. I enjoyed them almost; they were warm but not enough to fill me. The warmth was more of a dulling heat that helped separate me from everything, only because inside the void I could not run from what pained and haunted me. In the void, I was faced with the pure memories of the fire, undistorted or edited, and they were numerous in replay. People saw me in this state and thought I was lost in thought, or feeling something and holding a tight grasp on it. Perhaps they thought I was attempting to move on and heal, but were that the case then they were wrong. I welcomed the void, and it welcomed me back. It tormented me with my memories and stabbed at my weaknesses. It made me relive the events as if I was there watching Ashleigh die. In truth, it was I that was torturing me by allowing the void to take me. Steven spoke of his failure to protect his friends, and in this void, I spoke to myself of my own failure - I poisoned my own thoughts with malice and hate, made myself think it was my fault she died, alone. That I should have died with her or in her place. She was the better of us. Were it her in this position she would have forced herself to move on and heal, spare her loved ones from the pain of watching their friend self-destruct. On this particular day however, I was lost in a different void, there was nothing there but myself and an infinite blackness. It had caught me off guard.

________________________________________________ (4)

“I have to get out…” I whispered at my reflection in the bedroom windows.

There was no one around but me, normal people would consider conversation with yourself a sigh of mental instability. I would consider it a welcome change from the loneliness that I had been paining filling myself with. Why lie to myself? That is exactly what I was doing after all; filling myself with loneliness as well as the numerous other feelings of negativity I dwelled on. Nevertheless I made an effort not to be seen talking to myself.

A voice asked back in response. I was taken by surprise at first. Where had it come from? There was no one in the room but me.

“Where are you going to go?”

Then I caught it out of the corner of my eye. My reflection. But reflections don’t talk back. My reflection’s face articulated and emoted, it was talking to me. Was I crazy? “Does it matter where? I’ll go for a walk somewhere. Like I have anything better to do. I just need to get out” There was silence for a moment. It gave me time to think about what I was doing. I was talking to myself. But was I imagining this, or did my subconscious appear to me now, manifested in my reflection?

“No you don’t. You could stay here and mope more. You have been doing an awful lot of that recently. Why stop now.”

My voice replied to me in a muted tone meant not to offend but to convey disapproval.

“And don’t you even try to deny it Kimberly. You can lie to everyone else but you cannot lie to me.”

“Wanna bet? I’m sure I could make an honest attempt at it,” I paused for a moment and pondered why I was talking to myself like this, “Am I actually answering my own questions? I can’t believe I’ve sunk that low into depression.”

“You can believe it. And yes, you’ve actually sunk that low.”

A cheeky response, even for me.

“You can’t hide from me either, so don’t even think about it.”

I was about to begin another argument with when I was caught off guard by the telephone ringing. I sighed with relief; it seemed to have broken things and there was silence in my mind again.

“Hello?” I answered the phone after three rings and was surprised, for the first time in as long as I could remember I was free from my black cloud and burdens. It Kyle, he had called back.

________________________________________________ (5)

“Kim! I’m glad you answered, and so quickly too!” He sounded cheerful and I remembered why I enjoyed talking to him. Aside from holding most of the answers I sought, he also maintained a constant pleasant mood. So pleasant it succeeded in distracting me from me.

“Why wouldn’t I answer the phone, Kyle?”

“Oh, let’s pretend you didn’t ask that okay? It would only lead into a lengthily discussion, the likes of which we both know would only end in more rhetoric” He was cheerful, as always, though more so then usual. I was curious why.

“Cut to the chase boy, what do you want?” I asked him in a hasted voice.

Kyle was quick to respond and he almost sounded as if he were going to lead through the phone and into my room, perhaps to smack me for being impatient.

“Work called and canceled my shift; I guess I wasn’t needed today. So that means we can hang out today! I think you should get off your high horse and come visit, it may help.”

“Alright Kyle, I will be right over then.”

“Really,” he sounded surprised, as if he didn’t expect I would actually come over, “That’s unlike you to just agree to something so easily…”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence; I hung up the phone. That is twice today I hung up on someone. This might be a reoccurring pattern in the making.

At any rate the conversation didn’t last long. He managed to convince me to go outside and come visit, and I was actually excited about it, though I was not sure why or how. Maybe I could distract my mind for a while. To be honest I was two-faced about everything. One the one hand I made no effort to fight the negativity. I gave in to the void and I let the depression, the guilt, and the shame inside my heart. But, on the reverse side I opposed it with all my might. The problem was that both sides were so strong it resulted in a stalemate, with the negativity taking the display side of my life and being seen. Maybe it was easier for me to project the negative outwards. Perhaps this was my chance to switch that up. And after all, Kyle did say I would need to make a decision, so why not let things play out and see which wins out. I might as well go with the flow. And while I was being honest with myself, I did miss the outdoors. It was April, and everything was just starting to come back to life. Spring was my favorite season, and I had seemed to be living through an eternal winter up until today. Yes, I was sure now, I would go visit Kyle.

But what should I wear? It seemed trivial that I would worry over clothing at this point as I’m sure Kyle wouldn’t care either way how I dressed. He didn’t pay attention to things like that when it came to me. Kyle was more about the personality I had, it intrigued him and he couldn’t figure out why. We got along quite well, perhaps because we were like-minded individuals. Each others opposite. Since the fire though my personal opinion of myself had been dwindling. We were similar in mind, we both found pleasure in similar things, a common interest to talk to people we find engaging, and a desire to extend life beyond the normal boundaries of what people considered ‘normal’ I didn’t have time to think about it right now, what I needed was to get going.

________________________________________________ (6)

It was nearly two o’clock and I had spent the better part of an hour obsessing over wardrobe and thinking about my friendship with Kyle. By now, he was most likely wondering where I was, the walk from my place to his took less then fifteen minutes. I decided better make haste before he decided to call and annoy me with worry, so I was out the door in a flash. I left my cell phone and my purse at home though, or rather, I forgot them. When I realized I had forgotten them however I decided to go without. I would be at a friend’s house so there was no need for my purse, and my cell phone would only serve as a distraction were anyone to call. Especially given the fact I did not overly care to speak with anyone other then Kyle for the time being. Anyone being a relative term however.

“You’re going to be late.” My voice sounded in my head. Again!

“You again? Shut up and leave me alone!” I commanded, “We didn’t set a time for me to be there so it doesn’t even matter, alright?” My inner voice sighed, but she pressed the issue.

“Whatever. You don’t need to get snooty. I just don’t want you to be late, that’s all”

“You mean ‘us’”, I had just corrected myself, surly I was insane.

“What?”

“You said that I do not want to be late, but you are me. So you should have said you don’t want us to be late. You are my after all, right?”

Silence. Maybe I chased the voice off.

“Kimberly you are insane you know that?” No luck, it was still there, “By the way, watch out for that car.”

“What car?” I asked in confusion, I had thrown myself for a loop but before I could do anything further I realized what I had meant.