That isn't to say anything about those days after what happened was pleasant. Someone once told me that even with catastrophic physical injuries, a human being can stay conscious, even up and walking around, for a lot longer than anyone would expect, mostly due to adrenaline. It's sometimes an hour or more later that the body seems to acknowledge or accept that it is in deep trouble, at which point the person will collapse. I think the first few days after that disastrous prom night were the emotional equivalent of a wounded person stumbling around on the highway, grievously injured, after a bad crash. I was in full denial mode.
It didn't work. It worked for a couple, maybe three days, and then something inside me just refused to listen to my mind's furious demands to get up, to keep going, to not let anyone - even myself - see how badly I was hurt. Everyone had my back. When cooking a simple dinner for the family transformed into an impossible task, Alisha had my back. A few times my friends showed up with take-out or homemade soup and sandwiches. It wasn't just the cooking, though. Alisha came home one night to find me curled up in a ball on the sofa, oblivious to my niece who I was supposed to be watching. She was kind about it but I cried so hard I almost threw up and then retreated to my bed to fester alone.
School started to slip, too. Luckily by that point, I was too close to graduation to do any real damage - and I wasn't going to college anyway so what did it matter? I just seemed to go into a kind of zombie-mode. Constantly tired and when I wasn't tired - or asleep - perpetually on the verge of tears. It was terrifying, the feeling of becoming another person - someone even I didn't recognize.
It was the first time in my life that I ever caved in like that. I was the strong one. Everyone always said it - family, friends, teachers. I believed it, too. I was the one who stood up straight and got things done in even the toughest circumstances. Until I wasn't. Until life smacked me right across the face with the brutal truth - I was just as fragile as everybody else, just as prone to that awful robotic state of going through the motions of life while feeling nothing but sadness every waking moment. No matter how much I told myself to stop thinking about Kaden I couldn't do it. It didn't make sense.
'Why?' The question lay there at the forefront of my consciousness. Why? Why had he done it? And why had I fallen so easily for someone who didn't appear to feel any of the things he said he did? I could not get my head around any of it. And so I tortured myself, constantly turning my relationship with Kaden over and over and over in my mind, as if expecting to find some new, previously-missed detail that would explain it all.
Graduation day came and went. I put on my gown and mortarboard and walked across the stage to the enthusiastic cheers of my family - even my mother, who had made a point of coming out - and friends. It felt underwhelming. About half of the grad class was heading off the college, including a few of my own close friends. But I was staying in Little Falls and as far as I could see, life wasn't going to change much outside of the absence of school.
We went out for dinner after the ceremony, to the modest little restaurant where all of our celebratory family meals had taken place for as long as I could remember. Everyone came - even my mom. I still felt terrible most of the time but I managed, that evening, to maintain a somewhat cheerful demeanor. As the evening wore on it started to feel slightly less false. At one point Ray tapped his fork on his water glass and gave me a little nod.
"Natasha," he said, getting to his feet and ignoring the sideways looks from the other tables - it wasn't the sort of restaurant where a person made speeches, not that it mattered to Ray at all. "First of all, I just want to say congratulations. You've worked so hard - for yourself and for this family. I'm proud of you and I'm proud to be your brother."
I could feel my eyes beginning to well up, but looking around the table I could see I wasn't the only one. Ray continued:
"I know - we all know - that you're having a tough time lately. You try to hide it from us, I think because that's just what you do - you try to protect your family from pain and hurt. But we're your family, Tash. We see how difficult this is for you. And what I want you to know is that you're not alone. You're not alone right now, going through this. We've all been where you are. I have, Alisha has, CeeCee and Rosa certainly will. Hell, mom's been there, too. Right, mom?"
I looked over at my mother as the tears finally spilled down my cheeks and she was smiling at me, nodding. "Oh yes, Tasha. I've been there. And I don't just mean with your father. Heartbreak is just part of life, especially when you're so young and every experience feels so raw."
I looked back at Ray, who was giving me a pointed look. "Listen," he said. "What I'm trying to say to you, Tash, is that this is normal. No one thinks you're falling apart, no one thinks you've done something wrong. We're here for you and we know you would be here for us - and that you will be there for your little sister and your niece when their turn comes. So we've got your back, little sister. We've all got your back. For as long as you need - which, believe me, won't be as long as you think. And when the day comes that it's me who needs a hand or a little patience, I know you'll do the same. We love you and we're so grateful to have such a smart, funny, brave person in our family."