Demi

I laid in bed numbly, tears falling freely down my face as I stated at the wall blankly. He hadn't come. I was forced to deal with one of my biggest panic attacks yet, alone, while my husband sat in his office. I could smell dinner cooking, but the thought of eating food right now made my stomach turn. I was emotionally spent, and all I wanted to do was sink into the oblivion of depression that had become my life, never to resurface. Towards the end of my stay at Timberline Knolls, I started to think I could get better. I started to see the bright side of things, and was able to stay positive. I looked towards the future and how I could fix my marriage, and that was what I focused on everytime Wilmer ignored a call, or I got sent back my letters. But now, it was clear he wasn't interested in fixing anything. He wasn't going to want to talk, or to work through things. He was perfectly fine with the way things were now, and that terrified me.

"Demi."

I didn't move my gaze from the wall, not knowing if my voice would work to answer him, so I stayed silent.

"Demi." His voice was louder, annoyed. He walked into my field of vision, and I couldn't stop my heart from beating faster. "Dinner is almost ready."

I swallowed, wincing at the scratchiness in my throat. "I'm not hungry."

"Be downstairs in five minutes." He said, his tone making it clear he wasn't going to argue with me before walking out.

Five minutes passed quickly, and soon it turned into ten. Wilmer walked in, and I knew he was angry. I instinctively curled tighter into a ball, pulling the covers over me as if I could escape his wrath.

"Did you not hear me before?"

I now focused on the sheets, wanting to look anywhere but at him. "I'm not hungry."

He shook his head. "Get up."

"Please leave me alone." I whispered, shutting my eyes. Suddenly the covers were ripped off of me, and he stood, his chest moving up and down from his heavy, angry breathing.

"Get up Demi."

Slowly, I pushed myself into a sitting position, keeping my head bowed at the floor.

"Do not make me come up here again."

He stalked out and I rubbed my face, feeling more tears trying to break though my numb facade. With a heavy sigh I stood up, pulling his sweatshirt back over my head, and heading downstairs.

I walked into the kitchen and bit my lip when I saw him, standing at the stove, his back to me. I walked to the Keurig and grabbed a mug, beginning to make a cup of tea because of the ache in my throat. I didn't want to think about how it was caused by me screaming for my husband who never came.

"Don't you have your own clothes?"

I dropped the tea bag in the hot water and kept my eyes down. "I just wanted something familiar."

"Aren't your own clothes familiar?"

I glanced up at his eyes. It was a mistake. They weren't the warm, chocolate brown I was used to, but cold and dark, with no love in them.

"I'm sorry." I murmured, and put my mug down, my hands gripped the edge of the sleeves. "I can go take it off."

"Don't bother. It's done. Dinner's nearly ready anyway."

I sat down at the bar stool and quietly sipped my tea, an occasional sniffle cutting through the tension in the air.

"Stop crying Demi."

"I can't help it." I whispered, wiping the wet tracks that tickled down my cheeks. "I don't know why you're being so mean to me. I don't understand." A lump formed in my throat again. "I'm sorry for everything."

"I'm not being mean."

"I haven't seen you in a month." I whispered. "I haven't heard from you, or spoken to you in a month Will." I looked down. "And the only time you did come was to yell at me. You only answered the phone to hang up on me. When I got home you didn't even say hi to me."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start with me Demi. Don't fucking start."

"I'm sorry." I murmured again, feeling stupid for trying to get him to soften towards me. I felt stupid for thinking he even missed me.

"Here." He handed me a bowl of a vegetable shrimp stir-fry.

"Thank you." My voice was quiet, small. He stood on the other side of the counter and ate quickly. He was done before I could finish three bites, washing the dishes in another five bites.

"I'm going up to my office. Goodnight."

"Wait." I whispered, and stood up. I took a half step towards him, then stopped, forcing myself to look at his face. "Can I hug you? Please? Just once?"

He stopped at the doorway and looked back at me, my heart lifting with hope for a moment.

"No."

~*~

The bed was too big without him. It was too cold and the freshly washed sheets didn't smell like him. Preparing myself for another rejection, I got up and wrapped a blanket around myself, walking quietly to Wilmer's room. I opened the door as quietly as possible and tip-toed to the bed. He laid on his side, but his arms were wrapped around a pillow. I bit my lip and slowly eased the pillow out of his arms. He stayed fast asleep, and I gently sat on the bed. Unfortunately, the movement made his eyes snap open and he sat up, moving away from me.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I felt the bands around my chest tighten further. "I can't sleep."

"Try harder."

I flinched at the cold edge in his voice. "Can I sleep in here with you?"

His eyes were cold and dark again. "No."

"Please." My voice cracked as I begged him. "I'll sleep on the floor. I can't... I can't be alone Wilmer."

"No. Go back to bed. I moved my stuff for a reason Demi."

"Can we just talk then?" I begged, shifting closer.

"No."

I looked down watching as tears dripped from my eyes to the sheets, darkening the fabric. "Okay."

"Is there anything else?"

I wiped my eyes quickly and shook my head. "I'll leave you alone... I have a therapy appointment tomorrow... Do you want to come and we can work on things?"

He rolled his eyes. "We don't need any counseling."

I bit my lip. "I think we do."

He sat up a straighter. "I'm not going to no damn counselor so she can tell me all the things I'm doing wrong and how you don't deserve this. All she's going to do is take your side so there's no point."

"I know I deserve this." I murmured. "She's not going to just take my side. She'll help us work on our issues."

"I don't want to work on anything with you right now." He snapped. "I can barely stand being in the same room as you."

I flinched as though he'd slapped me, and took a step back, the ache in my chest nearly making me double over. "Okay. L-Let me know if you change your mind."

"I won't."

I walked out of the room, feeling my stomach twisting in knots at how hateful he sounded. He didn't want to go to a marriage counselor, which meant he didn't want to fix our marriage. Did he even want to be married?

~*~

"Goodbye Demi."

"NO!"

"Demi!"

I sat up in bed, gasping for air as I kicked the tangled sheets away from me. Wilmer's sweatshirt was constricting around me and that hit the floor too as I ripped it off. It was then that I realized Wilmer's presence. My heart ached to curl into his chest and have him hold me, but I know that was impossible. I put my arms on my knees and my head down, sobbing into my arms. He had left in my dream, the same nightmare I had been having since the first night of treatment, but now it was becoming a reality. He was so close, I needed some kind of contact. My hand reached for his, but before I got near him he moved his hand farther back, and I squeezed my eyes shut, more tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Demi, stop crying."

I hiccuped and another sob left my lips. "I c-can't help it."

"Calm down. Take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

I did as he said, inhaling shakily through my nose before letting out through my mouth, repeating the process until my heartbeat leveled out. I rubbed my face and glanced at him.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. You can go now if you want, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." My words weren't snide or sarcastic. My voice was weak and submissive. I didn't want to fight with him.

"You were screaming."

"Yeah. I know." I rubbed my swollen eyes and rested my forehead on my arms. "It happens."

"Often?"

I was confused by his sudden interest, lifting my head. "You could say that."

Wilmer was quiet for a few minutes. "Does it happen every night?"

Tears filled my eyes and I looked away, just nodding.

"What do you dream about?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Nothing. It's not important."

"Clearly it is."

"No, it's not. It's just a nightmare. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay, well... night."

He went to turn out the light but I shook my head. "I'm not going back to sleep."

"Why?"

I sighed. "If I go back to sleep I'll just have the nightmare all over again."

"Demi that's not healthy."

"I don't care. Being tired is the better alternative."

"It's just a dream."

"No. It's not." I murmured. "It's reality now."

He was quiet for a few moments. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I shook my head,leaning down to grab his sweatshirt off the floor and hugging it to my chest. "I dream about you leaving me, every time I close my eyes I see you walking out the door. That's what I have nightmares about and now it's my reality."

Wilmer sat there for a moment, then he stood up, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. I sighed and rubbed my face, putting the sweatshirt back on and standing up. I walked out to the hallway and saw the light in the guest room was off again. I swallowed hard and went down to my music room, opening the piano bench and sighing heavily when I saw the bottle of grey goose, a pack of blades, bags of cocaine and jars of weed. I sat on the floor and took out the vodka and the blades, clutching them to my chest. All I wanted was to relieve the pain. All I wanted was for Wilmer to love me again. I leaned my head back against the wall and tipped the liquid back into my throat, swallowing with a grimace. I took the blades and opened the package, taking out the slim piece of metal and turning it in my fingers. I placed it against my wrist and slowly tilted my head, turning it vertically. I could practically see the arteries and veins that would allow me to finally relieve myself of this pain if cut. I closed my eyes and a few tears rolled down my cheeks.

I wanted to do it so bad.

I wanted to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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-Rachel