Chapter Fifteen: The Demons Inside



Brian stood and faintly whispered the final verse again into Piper's ear as he leant down to kiss her cheek. The body below him stirred, he stepped back and saw her eyes flicker open.

"I love you too" I whispered, aware of all he'd said to me, before darkness enveloped me again
Brian starred down in shock, before the machines around him started beeping loudly and frantically. Two nurses rushed in and Brian stumbled backwards.
"Her hearts stopped" one said to the other as a doctor filed in
Brian fell to his knees.
"Please no, don't let her die, please" he cried as one of the nurses set up the electrocardiogram, they unraveled the paddles and pulled back Piper's sheet, when the frequency was up on nurse yelled clear, and the electric current ran through Piper's body, making her body seem to convulse.
Tear's glazed Brian's eyes and streaked down his face.
"Clear"
Another jolt.
"Please Piper, don't die on, don't leave me"
"Clear"
Another.
"We got a heart beat, we got a pulse" a nurse excitedly announced
Brian panted quietly in the corner his breathing short and shallow, his body to engulfed in the fate of Piper to care for his own well been.

"It's alright Sir, we have a heart beat, i dont think this one wants to die" one of the nurses commented as she gently touched Brian's arm
Brian nodded, still staring out into space, the reality was closer now, he could loose her just like he'd lost Hannah.


(2 Days Later)

Brian, determined to keep a smile on his face, just incase Piper could feel his presence and be comforted by it.

He placed an arrangement of red roses on the windowsill, and arrangement that had cost him $100, but he didn't care, money was irrelevant.

The press were still hounding for an official statement, and Brian still refused to give one. The others had causally said that he was caring for a sick friend, but would offer no more details if asked.

Brian starred out the window for a while, lapping up the views of the bustling city. Deep down though, he wished it were a view he wouldn't have to see anymore, because seeing it meant the Piper was still here, still sick, and that notion was becoming hard for him to handle.
"I've always loved red roses" I whispered, my voice croaky - dry.
Brian spun around as I blinked a few times at the unfamiliar room. The look on his face was of pure shock, perhaps fright, but definitely relief.
"You're -"
"I'm sorry" I sniffed, my head feeling like a ton of bricks, my body feeling even heavier.
"I'll get the doctor" he said quickly before racing for the door.

The doctors were quick to react and checked me over thoroughly. I knew who I was - strike off amnesia, I could tell them 6 x 6 - strike off brain damage (though they thought I may have to check for that later) my heart rate was steady - strike off any heart failures (or at least they hope) my pupils weren't dilated, and well my body felt heavy I could still move everything that moved.

One nurse stayed behind in the room, checking the machines and administering another drip of saline solutions into my hand.

"It was like I was asleep, but I could still hear things" I muttered, exhausted, though I wasn't sure why "Did you sing?" I questioned, sure I had heard a beautiful song in my thoughts
He nodded slowly "it was for you"
I smiled and bowed my head gently in thanks.
"I'm sorry for everything I said"
"You had a right to, Hannah killed herself because she looked up to me, it was my fault"
"But Hannah never blamed you, I was given 2 journals, the second one said she never blamed you, it said she came to realize that anyone can be affected by this, because we all find something or someone we think is perfect and try to be that, Hannah realized that you weren't perfect, that's why she asked me, that's why she made me promise to help you, to stay with you, because Hannah knew that you could show, that you could tell others the truth and give them the ability to realize nobodies perfect and we never will be"
"But I cant do that"
"Yes you can, don't you see Hannah gave her life, so you could give her a epitaph"
"I don't understand"
"She wants you to take her story and your own to people, help them"
"But I cant even help myself"
"Yes you can, but confronting your demons Piper you can do anything"


(4 Week's Later)

Confronting my demons….
It's been about 4 weeks since Brian told me to do such a thing. The recovering in the hospital took about a week, and it took another full day for Brian to convince me to see a therapist.

I'd always been under the illusion that when one has problems, one is not to share to problems with others, I know now, that notion is very misguided, because what we don't understand is that silence is the biggest killer. Even though the person may not be able to help us, we take comfort in expressing what we're feeling, not only to them, but to ourselves.

And so I did.
Thankfully Brian agreed to come with me for a few sessions, and though I was frightened beyond usual, the release given to me was similar to lifting a ton of bricks off my back.

But I know I have so much further to go.

I placed the journal down and starred out the 2 story window. There was a light tap on the door and Brian entered. He smiled graciously, the smile that had been such a comfort to me - a smile that promised to remain so.
"Ready?" he questioned picking up the overnight bag I'd packed
I nodded as I stood from the bed.
I had grown fond of Brian, more than I thought was possible. I loved the comfort his arms gave me, and the way he would hold me when I cried for reasons I couldn't explain. Sometimes I wondered why it was he stuck with me, I was getting better but in no way 'normal'. I would be fine one minute then something would bring up feelings I repressed and I would cry. My therapist said she felt I was repressing something, she thought there maybe something deep inside my psyche that I'd locked away, a childhood memory, anything - I knew of none.

Today's mission was to board the plane heading to Kentucky, I had a few things I needed to tell my mother.

As we stopped at the car doors, Brian caught me by surprise, placing a delicate kiss on my lips, like he could almost sense my uneasiness about going. I unwillingly shuddered at his kiss.
"Everything okay?" he inquired stepping back
Brian and I had not yet been intimate, in other words had sex. I still ad a few issues with my body and with intimacy in general, though I couldn't explain that either. I was still a virgin, despite Carl's frantic try's to change that, so perhaps that was where my intimacy issues stemmed from.

"Mmm" I replied, turning to open the door
The therapist had told me directly that sometimes we build up great big bags of emotional baggage, in a action to try and hide something our subconscious didn't want to relive. And this been the case, when we take bits and pieces out of this bag of emotional baggage, like I was doing by talking to her, other things start to come out, things we've been hiding so deep, sometimes it comes in pieces, other times it came out in great flashes, like the memory we're reliving was never ours to begin with it's buried that deep. I don't believe that would be the case with me, I never had any memories of bad things happening, expect for my parents divorce, but I couldn't blame them.


(In Kentucky)

Mom answered the door dressed casually in black pants and a cashmere turtle neck, she looked tired, but happy to see me. We hugged, it seemed like a long time since we'd done such a thing. She too embraced Brian and whispered something in his ear I never caught.

We walked into the sitting room and took the couch, Brian next to me.
"A drink?" Mom inquired
I asked for an ice tea, Brian passed.
I looked underneath the large oak coffee table and realized something I never had before, there were no photo albums.
"Mom" I spoke as she handed me the ice tea "do we have photo albums?" I inquired before taking a small sip
"Somewhere, I put them all away" she replied simply I was shocked I'd never noticed that before. There were photos of my brother and I on the walls, and a few of Mom and us kids, but there were very little else, and the ones that were shown all seemed from only 2 periods in my life, from the age of new born to about 3 and from 13 to 17, the photo pattern was missing 10 years of my life.
"Piper's doing really well" Brian smiled patting my leg "I think the therapist is really drawing out her reasons for control, that sort of thing"
"You're seeing a therapist, you didn't tell me that?" Mom questioned, looking over at me
"Yeah, I am, I was reluctant, but Brian talked me into it and -"
Mom flipped her attention back to Brian.
"You shouldn't let people force you to do things you don't want to do" she replied with an edge in her voice I'd never heard before
"It's okay Mom, it's helping me. We're just trying to find why this all started, you know find the beginning"
"You threw up to look pretty, to be skinny, that is the end"
I was taken aback by her response, and I think Brian sensed this, so spoke up.

"The therapist believes there's something underlying there, something in Piper's psyche that makes her need to control things. Anorexia is far more than just an eating disorder, for most its about control, its about proving themselves to others. It's not just about wanting to look beautiful, it's not like that, it's about acceptance and control, usually it stems from been downgraded or a past experience that haunts the person, been rejected, harassed, something like that"
"Piper was never harassed at school, she was always popular"
"That's why we don't think in her case it stems from that, it may be something deeper, and not about looks, like I said for most its about control"
"Mom" I raised my hands "Could you find those photo albums for me?" I added a quick please.
"Piper I don't know where they are and -"
Before she could finish I was up, opening the cupboard at the bottom of the oak bookcase, that was where mom kept most things.
"I don't think their in there" she announced, her voice cagey
I scrounged deeper and finally pulled out a browned-out photo album with fainted sunflowers as a covering.
"Found it" I smiled carrying it over to the couch.
Mom sat down uneasy, sitting on the edge of the chair like she was getting ready to run for the door.

I placed the album on my lap and opened the cover. A dorky faced kid was the first picture, an ice cream in hand and a huge smile plastered on a sun touched freckly face. It was me, and I looked about 8. Brian smiled beside me, and I nudged him in the arm. The picture below would have been the same age, though this time I was without cheesy grin and half melted ice cream. I was dressed in a floral dress, and not looking at the camera, my dark hair was slightly curly, and tumbled down my back.
"You were a pretty girl" Brian smiled, his arm sliding around the back of me and I let it.
"Darling I don't see why you're interested in seeing those old photos, their not much"
I shrugged, not noticing the strange look on my mothers face.
"I don't know why, I just do"
I heard her tapping her fingernails on the side of the chair where she sat, she seemed to be getting more uneasy as I turned the pages
The next page I turned to was again of me. I was sitting on the ground, my legs folded, my hands placed on my lap. I looked straight ahead but showed no sort of emotion, like I was starring into space.
I remembered the ice cream photo, and I remembered my school dance in the second photo, but I couldn't for the life of me remember this photo.
"Is this me?" I questioned, showing mom the photo
Her eyes widened and I though I saw her hands shake.
"I'm not sure dear, I don't remember, it may be"
I was sure the picture I was looking at was me. The same dark long hair that was shown in other photos, the same freckles, but the girl was like a stranger to me.

Moms hands clenched the chair as I turned the page. "Please Piper, that's enough" she said, her voice barely above a whisper
But I carried on, turning the pages till I stopped and starred at one particular photo. My eyes grew large and something inside me snapped.
"NO!" I screamed throwing the book across the other side of the room, smashing it into the glass of a framed magnolia picture.




Chapter Sixteen
Contents

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