"The Comfort in Being Sad"
by Michael Dell

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (Justine)

How long had she been sleeping? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that the pain had returned. She must be awake now. The pain must have awakened her. She had become so accustomed to the ever-present dull ache in her abdomen that she no longer took note of the days she felt sick; she marked the minutes she felt fine. She would look at others and try to remember what it was like to not have pain. She'd stare at their stomachs and imagine hers was as quiet, as healthy. Why couldn't hers be quiet? It was quiet once. Now it hurt. Everything hurt.

She was lying on the living room couch. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Someone had covered her with blankets to keep her warm. Must have been Matt. The clock above the TV said it was 3:30. It had to be 3:30 in the afternoon. The blinds were drawn but enough light forced through to provide proof of day. It was the only light in the room. Some fell along the bottom of the blankets, bringing forth the oranges and reds of the quilted design. Her stomach was probably all fiery oranges and burning reds. She tried to think of her stomach as clean and smooth, like sterling metal. Cold to the touch. Strong. But she knew it must really be cratered and raw, irritated and bleeding, oranges and reds.

With great effort, she forced herself up against the arm of the sofa. She ran a vain hand through her hair to try and force it back into place. Like it mattered. Even the blankets were heavy. She struggled to brush them from her body and swung her legs to the floor. She rested there a moment while the sudden lightheadedness passed. She had to kick her feet free from the blankets. She gathered her strength and stood up.

The first few steps were always the most difficult. Her muscles were sore. Her legs were slow to respond. She reached a hand in front of her as if to brace herself, but there was never anything there to support her. She had gotten so used to the movement that it became habit. She unknowingly groped the air aimlessly as she made a staggered, deliberate path from the room. She allowed her shoulder to slide against the wall. Her legs nearly buckled with each step. She kept going. She had always kept going.

The bathroom was reached with a sense of accomplishment. She vomited in the sink. She turned on the water and let it run. The water felt cool on her face. She cupped some in her hand and rinsed her mouth. There was no avoiding the mirror this time. It was simply right there. She stared at her reflection, studying its message. She once again ran a hand through her hair. It still didn't matter. Her skin was pallid and drawn. Her eyelids were struggling against their weight. She tried to remember what it was like to be beautiful. She wasn't sure she ever knew. She had cried so much the past few weeks that there simply weren't any tears left in her. Those rivers had long run dry. Someone else would have to do her crying for her.

"Are you okay?"

It was Matt. Justine forced a smile to comfort him. "Yeah, I'm all right."

"I heard the water running. I thought you were still sleeping."

Justine remembered and turned off the faucet. "I just got up."

"Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." She turned and smiled, not even knowing that her eyes were closed. "I was just on my way back to the couch."

"Let me help."

Matt's hand was swatted away in protest. "That's okay, I can do it. I told you I'm all right." She swayed her way past him and began the return journey. This time she didn't allow herself the benefit of the wall. She wanted to show Matt how strong she was. She was concentrating so hard on putting one foot in front of the other that she didn't even realize he was never more than an inch behind her at all times, arms ready to rescue her at the first false step. He didn't relax until she was back sitting on the couch. He picked the blankets from the floor and placed them next to her.

"Do you want to lie down again?" asked Matt, straightening her pillows.

"I think I might sit up for a while."

"Are you hungry? Do you feel like eating anything?"

The idea of food made her stomach tumble and spin. "Not really."

"Are you sure? I'd feel better if you'd try and eat something. And you should have something before you take your pill. Can I make you some soup? Soup's good."

"No, thank you."

"How 'bout just some crackers. Feel like munching on some crackers?"

She knew the suggestions wouldn't end until she said yes. "Maybe a few."

"Okay, I'll go get you some crackers and water," confirmed Matt as he walked to the windows. "Let's get some light in here." He pushed the curtains back and opened the blinds. Justine squinted her eyes to the rushing world.

"Is that too bright?" worried Matt.

"No, that's fine." She swallowed hard. "Did anyone call while I was asleep?"

Matt tried to pretend he didn't hear her and continued adjusting the blinds. She had asked that very same question often over the past few weeks. The answer never changed.

"Matt?"

He looked at his sister with all the love in his heart. She returned his love mixed with more than a little hope. He couldn't bear to say the word again.

"I'll go get you some crackers. You'll feel better after you eat some crackers."

Matt hurried along on his mission of goodwill. He wouldn't be gone more than a minute. Justine needed the breather in order to collect herself. She had to be strong again by the time he got back. It wasn't going to be easy.

Justine closed her eyes. She thought of poetry and promises and words left unspoken. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter where she looked, there was no one at the end.