Umbrae Animae

When I first noticed the changes, I did nothing to stop them. It started with my senses. The world around me dimmed. Hue and vibrancy faded away to grays. What did it matter that the flowers were no longer pink and yellow? Did it ever matter? The sky's cerulean paled to dusty cornflower, hardly distinct from any overcast day. Everything that entered my mouth was sand. The pines outside my apartment no longer washed me in their surface-cleaner scent. Pillows were pressed over my ears, turning my heartbeat into an ever present, pounding drum. The numbness that settled into my skin was a constant companion. It all felt like falling into a dark pit that was more than eager to swallow me whole. And I let it consume me. I let myself fall.

Inside...I didn't even recognize what was inside me anymore. Something vast and hollow. I decided to make my surroundings mirror what I found within me. It felt right. I turned off the lights. I closed all the blinds and kept them closed. The darkness was a gentle embrace. I unplugged the TV, took down the pictures that reminded me of the past, and covered the mirrors. Lastly, I carved a mask for myself. No one could know the creature I was letting myself become. It was convincing. It looked like me, talked like me, moved like me. I could have a normal conversation at work and no one would suspect a thing. I never took off my mask in public; there wasn’t a need for anyone to know me now.

Save for work and the grocery store, the outside world ceased to exist for me. So began my waltz. Home. Work. Home. Work. Store. Home. Work. Home. Work. Store. Home. My life had become a metronome, swinging back and forth with the cadence of monotony with which I had cocooned myself. As I let the new me settle in, something inside me still squirmed, trying to wriggle free of the net I had cast over myself. I buried it. Whatever was left of the old me would be snuffed out with time. There was no point in keeping any of that alive now. The old me was gone.

~~~~~

A knock at my door startles me awake. I put a hand to my chest. "Calm down." I mutter. I stay on the couch, motionless, staring at the front door.

"Chris?" I would recognize that voice in a crowd of thousands. Adrian Park. "I know you're in there,” he says. “Please...please let me in.” I sit up, trying not to make any sound. I jump again as he pounds on the door this time. “Open up, dammit. Don’t make me call the fire department to come break down your door. You know I’ll do it.” He would. I move to the door, unlocking it and undoing the two extra latches I installed. Before I can even fully open the door or say anything, Adrian pushes his way in and embraces me in a tight hug. The sensation feels foreign to me. He squeezes me a bit too hard. “I’m so sorry, Chris,” he says from over my shoulder. “Your sisters told me what was happening; I should have come sooner.” He releases me from the hug, but keeps a firm grip on my biceps, holding me at arms length. He surveys me, looking me up and down, and his hold on me slackens. My eyes can’t meet his own. “Oh, Chris…”

I never wear my mask at home, I don’t have to, but I put it on now, and a casual smile comes easily to my face. “You didn’t have to come all the way from out of state for me.” My voice croaks from disuse. “I’m fine, Adrian. Really.”

“Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that?” My mask falters. In front of my best friend, through high school, through college, it can’t withstand the weight of connections between us. I take it off but still hold it in my hand; I can’t let it go.

Before I can respond, Adrian moves past me into the living room. He sniffs. His nose scrunches. “You’re living in a cave.” He moves. Blinds are pulled open and windows cracked. I wince in the afternoon light. He turns the fan on high and dust motes shimmer in the whirlwind.

"Why are you doing this?” He ignores me and walks down the short hallway to my bedroom. When he comes back, he’s holding a sheet in his hands, the one I used to cover the mirror in the bathroom. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he starts to nod his head.

“Right. You’re getting out of here.” He tosses me the sheet. “Go get dressed, we’re leaving.”

“No, I’m staying here.”

“Like shit you are.”

“I don’t want to leave,” I reply weakly. “You can’t make me.”

Adrian moves to stand in front of the door, arms crossed. “Christopher Atkins, I am not leaving this apartment until you get dressed and come with me. Otherwise, I’ll be here for way longer than you want me to be.” His face is flint. I grumble. Glaring out the now fully opened window, I sway in place for moment, the room silent. This man’s resolve is legendary; I know what he’s capable of. My numb masquerade is powerless before such a force. Also, I’m too tired to fight anymore. I lost the fight a long time ago.

“Fine.”

“Good. And make sure to wear something more...professional. It wouldn’t be respectful to wear sweatpants where we’re going.”

~~~~~

The world passes by in monochrome, like the pictures of an old movie. I watch as neighborhoods, schools, and shopping centers fly by my window. I used to know all these places. The car has been silent for the duration of the drive. I sigh, leaning back into my gently reclining seat. Adrian glances over but doesn’t say a word. He hasn’t pushed me to talk and I’m grateful for it. After driving for thirty minutes, we turn down a long road that gives way to gravel. Something in my memory stirs. I look up and see giant oaks reaching over from either side of the road, creating a natural arch. Look, the trees are trying to hold hands. I sit bolt upright and the seat-belt goes taunt. “No.” We enter through a large, wrought iron gate. “No!” My voice rises as I try to undo my restraint.

Adrian reaches across and pushes me back. “Hey, stop it. It’s alright. Calm down.” I keep struggling. With a forceful hand still pressed against chest, Adrian somehow manages to park the car. I stop, panting. Adrian gets out of the car and moves to my side, opening the door. He leans in, staring at me. “Come on.”

"No. Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I think it will help you.”

“I don’t need help, Adrian. I never asked for it.”

“Well, you’re getting it.” Adrian looks at me then, realization in his eyes. “Wait. When was the last time you were here?”

I turn away, jaw clenched. “The funeral.” For the second time today, I can almost feel Adrian’s disbelief. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails. Images rise up in my mind. The car accident. Black outfits. Tear-stained faces. Fresh flowers tossed over even fresher dirt. I close my eyes as if that would somehow keep the visions in my head at bay. I take a deep breath. “Leave me here. Please.”

Adrian frowns. He moves and opens the back door, taking out an umbrella and a bouquet of flowers I didn’t notice before. “Fine. If you won’t go visit her, then I will.” He slams the door in my face and begins making his way into the cemetery. I watch him walk away. My breath catches in my throat. A year. It’s been a year since I was last here. My dark existence has made it feel like decades, but it's only been a year. Adrian’s words ring in my ears. I wonder...has anyone else visited her in that time? Someone must have, right? But what if no one has? Something long dormant in me twitches. It moves me, and I get out of the car.

The cemetery is a quiet labyrinth of rocky headstones and ancient trees. I lost sight of Adrian but, somehow, after all this time, my feet know where to go. I let them lead me deeper into the stony maze. A rumble of thunder breaks the stillness. I turn down a wide path. I freeze. Adrian is there a few feet from the corner, standing in front of a pink, granite headstone that stands out among its pale, marble neighbors. The headstone might not have been erected back then, but the plot is exactly where it is supposed to be. Just as I remember it.

Adrian waits for me to stand beside him before speaking. “Here lies Emily Atkins,” he reads softly. “Daughter. Sister. Wife. Friend. May she rest in eternity in God’s gentle embrace.” Emily. I fall to my knees. My chest is in a vice. Adrian’s voice sounds far away. “Were you really so selfish that you forgot her, Chris? Your own wife?”

I glance down to the empty space on my trembling finger. “I had to. I didn’t...I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what, Chris?”

“I didn’t want to feel any of it.”

“To feel is human; it’s part of us.”

“A part that I couldn’t handle anymore.”

“So you locked yourself away? Hid yourself from the world in your own darkness? Is that how Emily would have wanted you to live?"

“Emily.” Emily. I can see her standing before me. Her auburn hair flashes fires in the sunlight. Her kiss is sweet tea. Her smile is brighter than any neon sign. Emily. I blink and the image is gone, replaced by the lifeless tomb. In that moment, something within me breaks, fracturing into a million pieces. Everything I’ve been hiding from comes crashing down on me. I gasp at its weight. Sorrow. Pain. Regret. I clutch at my chest as I struggle to breathe. I’ve kept these feelings buried away for so long that they are drowning me now. It’s too much. My gasps become heaving sobs. My mask disintegrates to dust. My towering walls crumble into heaps of rubble. A long, bitter cry escapes my mouth, rising from the depth of my soul. I fall silent as it starts to rain.

Adrian, my sentinel, opens his umbrella and moves over me. “No,” I say. “Step back.” He obliges and the rain falls on me. My slacks and polo are soaked in minutes. My tears are hot on my face. They mingle with the rain, almost becoming like a balm to my fragmented soul long held hostage. " What month is it?" I ask. I know the answer, but I need to hear it.

"April," Adrian says, "April fourth."

April. Her month. The month that cradled her as a baby. The month that also welcomed her body to the grave. A place of beginnings and endings all wrapped into one. I wonder...is it possible? I look up. Sunlight breaks through the clouds. Raindrops flash downwards like so many sparks in the light. I gasp, but not in pain. The world around me has come back into focus. The visible patches of sky are bluer than they’ve been in a very, very long time. I grab fistfuls of sharp gravel into my hands, relishing the sensation. Petrichor fills my nose with its earthy scent. Birds are beginning to chirp in the fading rain. The taste of salt still lingers on my lips. I look back down at the tombstone and finally notice the bouquet there. It is a mix of pink carnations, yellow mums, and white babies' breath. Pink and yellow; Emily’s favorite colors. It's like pink lemonade. I laugh. That part of me that I sealed away is stirring inside me again. Hope. It’s small, but it's there. If I could build a fortress around myself and eventually tear it down, then perhaps I can rebuild something on the rubble, something brighter, something Emily would smile for. I close my eyes. The changes will come slowly, I know, but I'm ready to embrace them now. For Emily. For me.