I called you up, you were in bed
Could barely make out the words that you said
But you wanted to see me instead
So I got dressed

And I stepped out into the snow
And walked for a mile or so
Felt the rush of blood
Come from the cold, in my chest

Well, you finally came to the door
And we talked for an hour or more
Until I asked if you would stay up till four
You said, "That's fine"

But you said, "There's something I have to say
And I can't because I'm just so afraid"
And so I held you as you started to shake
That night

Oh, my dear
I will wait for you
Grace tonight, will pull us through

Until the tears have left your eyes
Until the fear can sleep at night
Until the demons that you're scared of
Disappear inside

Until this guilt begins to crack
And the weight falls from your back
Oh, my dear
I'll keep you in my arms tonight

You slowly lifted your head from your hands
You said, "I just don't think that you'll understand
You'll never look at me that way again
If you knew what I did"

And so your tears fell and melted the snow
You told me secrets nobody had known
Oh, but I never loved you more
Even though now I knew what you did

-“Oh My Dear” Tenth Avenue North

“Wake up, Andra! Wake up!”
Sleep
“Come on, An! I know you’re faking it!”
SLEEP
“Do I need to go and get the nurses to administer some liquid motivation?”
Crap. I’ve been had.
After rubbing the sleeves of bandages that wound around both my forearms, I sat up under the thin sheets and propped the lumpy cotton pillows behind my back. The bright fluorescence of the room made me squint as I glanced up at Desdemona, who was uncomfortably seated in the Goodwill-worthy armchair next to my bed.
“Hey Dess,” I sighed in resignation as my weariness started to fade.
“Looks like the princess is awake,” she said as her pierced eyebrows rose to her forehead. “When can I break you out of this joint?”
For a sister, Desdemona was pretty awesome. Her rough demeanor, piercings, and punk-like clothing made her out to be a delinquent, but she was actually was the sweetest person I knew. She was always there for me, no matter what, and right now was no exception.
I ran a hand through my tangled hair and mumbled, “As soon as they are convinced I’m no crazier than they are.”
“Definitely. How can you possibly trust those cafeteria workers downstairs not poison every unsuspecting person that orders the biscuits and gravy?” She rubbed her stomach in pain, “Even I was not spared their wrath!”
“Gee, thanks, Dess. I’m glad you’re pulling for me.”
“Always am, Sis,” she laughed with a wink. Despite her light-hearted tone, I could see the concern practically dripping from her eyes like tears.
“So, come to read me the riot act?” I cut to the chase, literally. My parents came to read me my rights yesterday, with a lot of hugs, flowers, chocolate, and crying, of course. I didn’t mind it, not even my mom’s worried sobbing. I did mind their leering doubt of my sanity, though. I minded it very much.
Her focus had been on the muted television that hung in the corner, but her eyes immediately snapped to mine, “No,” her tone was unsure, which scared me, “I won’t. I have decided to hear your side before make my judgments like Mom and Dad already have.”
I immediately blanched, “What?”
“Yep. I figure you’ve had your fill of ‘how could you do this to our family’ and ‘what the hell were you thinking hurting yourself like that, young lady’ from Mom and Pop’s visit, so I want to be chill with you. Don’t think I am not concerned, though. You’re my only sister, I have no intentions of losing you.”
At this, my stomach dropped to my toes, “Then why are you here?”
She sucked her lip in, making her spider bites clank on her teeth, “I have been thinking a lot lately-I know, it’s dangerous- about how you must be feeling after this whole mess. After much deliberation, I’ve decided to be what you have been lacking lately: love and compassion. You need it, and I need you to heal from your ordeal.”
My hands clenched in my lap as her words stung me. I was ready for her to rant and rave all over the small hospital nook, turning over tables, chairs, and my unfinished pudding I left on my bedside table. That would have normal, the Desdemona I expected. I had my wall already built up for her harsh words. But, in typical Dess fashion, she took a different route than I expected because she knew it would throw me for a loop and catch me off guard.
“Ok. Go ahead,” I sniffled a little bit as my eyes kept burning from her sentiment.
Her next words brought it all into reality for me, “Why did you do it, An?”
“I felt as if there was no other choice,” I wept as the tears spilled down my face, “I chose to cross the tracks, hoping to escape my pain.”
Dess grabbed my wrist, right beneath the bandage, “Forgive my cliché, but there is always a choice,” she croaked out as her hand slid to mine. “You should have talked to me. I could have helped you. I could have done something!”
My eyes caught hers, and I saw the same hurt that was in my mother’s and father’s. She felt abandoned by me, and I had no rock to stand on, just the quicksand of everyone’s grief pulling me under.
I swallowed as my confession came to my lips, “Dess, don’t you dare blame yourself. The choice was mine to make, and instead of calling for help, I chose to be selfish. Nothing less.”
My insides tore at my next words, “I just don’t think you understand. You will probably never look at me the same way again, now you know that I’m different than you always thought.”
“You’re right. I do look at you differently, but not in the way you think I do,” Dess leaned and hugged me, “Andra Marie, you are my sister, and I will always love you, no matter how many times you stumble and fall. You’re my sister, and some things never change,”
My body began to shake as we wept together. I was so selfish, but she forgave me. Here we were-where I’d never thought I could ever be-across the tracks, a life being reborn for the both of us.