The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley - Страница 84

Sean’s life support was switched off at 11.28 pm, and he died peacefully at 11.43pm on that same night, with me and our son in his arms, surrounded by all of my family and his parents.

We buried them together two weeks later, when I was eventually ‘recovered’ enough to attend the funeral.

My only regret was that I wasn’t already dead and going in the ground with them, my life was over now anyway, so it was only a matter of time before I joined them.

I wanted to be numb, and I wanted not to feel but I was in agony. Once the funeral was over I knew exactly what had to be done.

I stayed alive purely to say my goodbyes and to see my Husband and Child buried but as it turns out, I really don’t remember anything about the day, I don’t remember much of anything about the past few weeks. All I know is the pain, the massive aching hole inside me and the pain that comes from it, but now the funeral onceover, I knew I could put a stop to it.

When I was at school, a very over enthusiastic religious and social education teacher told my class that suicide was wrong and that God would not allow any one that chose to take their own life into heaven. Heaven is exactly where I knew Sean and Beau were so I had to wait until after I’d said goodbye to them forever at their funeral before I could do what needed to be done.

I laid in the dark on the bed in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, the combination of Valium and sleeping tablets finally pulling me down into blackness I so desperately sought. I wasn’t scared, I was impatient, I wanted the black nothingness so badly, I wanted the pain to be gone so desperately that I just gave myself over to it, without any kind of a fight I let it take me.

EPILOGUE

My eyes fluttered as I felt Sean kiss across my shoulder, along the curve of my neck, up my throat and along my jaw to my ear.

“Wake up Gia, it’s time to go baby.” I sighed and reached out until my hand found his hair, and I ran my fingers through it.

“No, I’m so tired, I want to stay here, let’s just stay in bed.” I hear him chuckle.

“We can’t G, you need to go, it’s time to open your eyes and go.” I try, I really try, but my eyes are just so heavy I can’t open them. He kisses me again and I breathe him in.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you more Georgia Rae, but it’s time for you to go.” I shake my head.

“Gia, I’ll be with you baby, always, every single day, I’m not asking you now, I’m telling you, open your fucking eyes.”

“Alright I will, just not yet, in a minute.”

“Now G, open you’re fucking eyes right now.”

So I did and in an instant he was gone, the room was too bright and it took ages for me to be able to open them fully.

My Dad was sitting at the end of a two seater sofa, my Mum was lying with her head in his lap, they were both sleeping, Marley was in a chair right next to me, his head on the bed and my hand in his.

And then the pain punched right through me and my breath caught. Why, why was I here? I didn’t want to be here breathing and feeling I didn’t want to be alive.

***

I lay on the on the warm and worn leather sofa and stared up at the ceiling, my hand was inside my pyjama shorts, tracing over the very feint indentations on my lower belly, they’re barely noticeable now. Most women probably can’t wait for their bodies to bounce back into their pre-baby shape and for their stretch marks to fade but the very few that I have, I want to remain with me forever, the very fine silver lines and the scar from my surgery are the only physical reminders of what I had and what I lost.

I let out a loud sob and let the tears roll down my face and into my ears. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself, squeezing myself tight, holding on, it doesn’t ease the pain, it doesn’t stop the ache and doesn’t do anything to fill the massive gaping hole that’s been punched through my heart, through my life, through my existence. But for a few short seconds it stops the sensation that I continuously have of falling but only for a few short seconds and then its back, I rock from side to side, just to give me something else to focus on. The tears that have collected in my ears escape and run all the way around to the back of my neck. I sob louder, my throat aches, my chest aches, but it hurts more to hold it in and the counsellors, the shrinks and every other expert that I’ve been made to sit and listen to for these last three months have all agreed on one thing at least, it’s good to cry, it’s better to let it out than to keep it in. Personally, it makes no difference to me either way, it all still hurts just as much and they’re still gone, my Husband and my baby, our little boy, my handsome, vibrant, clever Husband and our beautiful baby boy, gone, snuffed out, in just a few seconds of complete and utter carnage. Carnage, how ironic is that? That it’s the perfect word to describe the circumstances of their deaths three whole months ago.

Three months, I can’t believe it’s been three months, I don’t really remember December. In January my family had me committed to a private mental health facility after my second suicide attempt, they kept me there for almost three weeks, I don’t know what they thought it would achieve, other than stopping me from once again taking my own life, but what did they think I was going to do once I was out? I wasn’t insane, I wasn’t mentally unstable, well no more than the next woman that’s just had her Husband and Child killed in front of her. I just didn’t want to live, I don’t want to live but I convinced those that needed convincing that I wouldn’t attempt to take my own life again and they let me out into the care of my family and I had every intention of ending it all as soon as I got the opportunity… and then Jimmie came to see me and she brought all of the kids with her, my nieces and nephews.

I was sitting on my Mum’s sofa when she came in, she carried Harley in her arms, Jimmy, Paige and Ziggy trailed in behind. I knew as soon as I looked at her that she was pissed off. Ziggy overtook her and threw himself into my lap; he’d just turned six and was the absolute image of my brothers. I held him close and breathed him in, it hurt and it healed me a little all at the same time. Just like my brothers, he’d taken to calling me Porge after learning the Georgie Porgie nursery rhyme.

“Auntie Porge, we’ve missed you so much.” He almost strangles me as he wraps his little arms around my neck so tightly.

“I missed you too Zig, I’ve missed you all.”

“But not that much George?” I looked up at her from the sofa, my Mum stood from where she’d been sitting in the armchair, my dad, Len and Marley all walked into the room.

“Not in front of the children please Jamie,” my Mum said to her.

“Erm, yes, actually Bern, I think the children need to hear this. I think that George needs to tell the children why they aren’t important enough to her? Why they mean so little to her, that she doesn’t want to hang around and see them grow up?”

Lennon walks over and takes Harley out of Jimmie’s arms, Marley walks over and takes Ziggy from my lap. My eyes don’t leave Jimmies. My bottom lip trembles as I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, my tears escape freely, with no effort from me, down my cheeks.

“Why don’t we count George? Why does it not matter to you what you are putting us all through?” She swipes tears away with the back of her hand.

“Sean was like a son to your Mum and Dad, he was like a brother to me, Ash and the boys, he was a favourite uncle to all of your nieces and nephews and we love him, we didn’t get the chance to get to know Beau, but we already loved him regardless, his cousins love him, his aunts and uncles love him and his Grandma and Pops love him and we all lost him and we all lost Sean and it hurts.” She sobs as she speaks and can barely get her words out. “It hurts so fucking much George, we are hurting for our loss and we are hurting for your loss, which we can all only try and imagine but let me tell you now, what you are doing, by keep trying to top yourself, it’s so selfish. You’ve watched us all suffer George; you’ve seen what everyone has been through these past couple of months. Marley is barely hanging on, Len is in bits and all you want to do is add to that. Where does it end a George? Where does it stop, you kill yourself, then what?” She looks around the room at my parents and brothers, there’s silence, except for the sound of sobbing and it’s my Dad that’s sobbing the loudest and that hurts what’s left of my heart so much.