Watching Her Chapter 28 - Tarzan

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Chapter 28 - Tarzan - Tarzan
Tarzan is an extremely brave, loyal, and honorable character. He cares deeply about his family and friends.

A thump on the floor and I'm stunned to realize I'm standing in front of my window. I look down in the direction the noise came from and see the notebook, splayed open, full of words that have seared themselves into my brain, taunting me.

Numb.

I can't even … I don't know how … How can I …

Dying.

Bella's mom is dying.

I run a hand through my hair and look at my reflection in the glass. I don't even know what to think when I look at myself in the context of what I know about Bella now. I do a quick inventory of my life and tick off, like hash marks, the number of times I've complained about my mom and each one feels like acid dropping onto my skin. Guilt spreads, icy tentacles that weave and burrow, slither and squeeze, until I can't breathe.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I feel sick.

I want to call my mom and tell her I love her, then immediately blanch because my mom's just a phone call away and Bella's is … fuck what the hell is she?

Words that I can't even think, let alone say, push and prod and I quickly turn from the window, unable to keep looking at my reflection for some reason. I begin to pace, leaving the wretched notebook on the floor where it lays, blaming it for the hurt Bella left indelibly sprawled across its pages. My whole body is buzzing, like it's filled with currents of electricity. I keep pacing, stomping from one side of my room to the other, then around in circles, then again with the back and forth.

I want to hit something.

I want to play my piano.

I want to call my mom and tell her I love her.

I want to give Bella her mom back.

Fuck.

I have to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to keep from falling apart. In the worst case scenarios, I never imagined any of this for Bella. The things I knew about her before make more sense, while at the same time invites more questions. My heart races as my mind begins to formulate the things I want to know so fast that my stomach rolls and lurches.

Not wanting to look at it, but having no choice I stride across my room and pick the notebook up off the floor. I crawl into the center of my bed, and fold my legs, setting the notebook in my lap. Purposely flipping the page to a blank sheet, I try to calm down enough so that I can put my thoughts into words.

Bella needs me to be strong, she deserves no less. That's enough to make me take a deep breath and let my heart say what it wants.

Bella,

I gasp when I see her name written in my handwriting for the first time, and let the warmth it brings me spread through my veins. It's right to use her name now; she's not some girl I watch in the dark any longer. She's real. She's suffering. And she thinks she's alone.

She's not.

Not any longer.

What do I say? How do I begin? Do I tell you I'm sorry first, or do I thank you for trusting me enough to tell me something so painful, so personal? Do I promise you things will be okay? 

I don't have the first damn clue, but I'm here. 

I'm not going anywhere. 

That's what I want to tell you first, what you need to believe more than anything else. 

I can't even imagine what it must be like to go through what you are. Fuck, just saying that makes me feel like an asshole. I mean, it's hard to know what to say and what will make things worse or hurt you. I never want to hurt you … not ever. 

And it's not because I feel sorry for you, but I do wish your mom was okay and that you weren't so sad all the time. 

You asked me what I can see?

I see you. 

I see when you're so sad and so scared that it takes every ounce of strength you have just to put one foot in front of the other and walk from your house to your building. I see you let go when you sit behind your drums and hold your drumsticks in your hands like they were just an extension of you, like they're as much a part of you as your fingers. I see when you smile … and it lights you up from the inside out. 

I see you, Bella. 

I only, always, see you. 

Sounds crazy doesn't it? I sometimes feel like I'm going out of my fucking mind, but it's in the best possible way. It makes no sense but yet it makes the most sense ever. 

And you're going through this horrible thing, and all I want to do is help you, but I don't know how. Tell me what I can do for you and I promise I'll do it … or I'll try as hard as I possibly can to help, in any way I'm able.

My dad's a doctor, maybe he can help your mom. Or maybe he can find someone who can. Shit, that makes me sound like an asshole, again. Of course your step-dad has tried everything to help your mom. This is probably not the right time to say this, but … um … Phil Dwyer's your step-dad? I'm not a huge fan of baseball, too busy with soccer, but damn, even I know who he is. 

And, if Phil is your step-dad, where is your dad? Is he still back in Phoenix? I kinda don't think so. I don't know why, but I think something might have happened to him, too. Did it? I'm almost afraid to ask, but I want to help you, Bella. I want to know everything about you, even the stuff that's bad.
Tell me what to do to help you. 

What do you need? 

Does anyone help you? Are you alone all day? I know you said there's someone there with you named Maggie.Does she take care of you, too? God, please tell me she does. Do you ever see Phil, or is he traveling too much because of baseball? Is that why Maggie is there, because he's not? It would kill me to think of you sitting inside all day with no one to talk to … besides your mom. 

I hate this for you, Bella. I really fucking do. How do you do it? I mean if it were me, I think I'd stay locked in my room all day. That's why you're so strong; you know you are, don't you? I know Phil's your step-dad and all, but how can he leave you and your mom? Doesn't he want to be there? I mean I guess I know he can't be and play ball at the same time, but I don't understand how he can be away and how he can leave you alone, even if you have someone there to help with your mom. 

Isn't there any other family, anyone else to be with you so you aren't alone so much? And fuck, don't hate me for asking this, but is it safe for your mom to be at home and not in a hospital? How does that work? Do you need my dad to do anything for you? I'm sure he would if you need something.
God, I'm sorry for asking so many questions, but I'm only trying to help. 

And um, yeah, about Kate. I need to tell you something. Please don't freak out, okay? I heard her talking about you at the hospital the other day.That's how I know your name. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. It wasn't on purpose but when she said the name Bella, I wasn't sure she was talking about you at first, well, actually, I WAS (and that's a whole other thing) but when the person she was talking to mentioned the Abbott house I knew it was you. 

Do you know that house, well your house now, is my favorite house in all of Forks? I mean I love mine, but that one, there's just something about it. At Halloween, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott always gave out the best candy and sometimes let us come inside, just to the living room, for only a few minutes, and at Christmas, when we were younger, they would decorate their house … think the Griswolds in Christmas Vacation, and then have us sit in the kitchen for hot chocolate. 

I've always wanted to see what the whole thing looks like. 

I yawn, loudly, and my eyes water from the fatigue setting in. The pen I'm holding slips from my fingers and I don't try to pick it up. I simply stretch my legs, ignoring the thousands of needles pricking my skin all at one time, and settle against my pillow, clutching the notebook to my chest.

It's hard to breathe for a few minutes as everything that Bella has written washes over me. Every muscle in my body seems to tighten, and I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly there are spots of white behind my eyelids. In and out, I inhale and exhale and then eventually my body relaxes.

Sleep claims me quickly, and I'm too exhausted to fight.

My last thought, right before I succumb, is of Bella … always, always, Bella and the hope that someday soon, I might actually get to see the inside of the old Abbott house.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~