The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

11

I meet Marly at a little sandwich place off campus. It's on a busy street, packed with stores and gift shops and restaurants, taxis honking and pedestrians walking fast with their heads down. A bell above the door chimes as I walk in.

Marly's already there, sitting at a red leather booth. It's an old-fashioned looking diner, with neon signs and vintage posters lining the walls. It reminds me of AJs, a bit, back in St. Anne.

"Hey!" Marly says, glancing up from her phone and smiling warmly. She's wearing a Harvard sweatshirt, and her long hair is pushed behind her ears. "You hungry?"

I sit across from her. Silverware clinks around us, and a 80s song is playing quietly. "Starving."

"Me too." She picks up the menu, laminated and decorated with doodles. "They have a lot of food here - sandwiches and wraps and pizza - but I always get a turkey sandwich. It's basically famous, their turkey sandwiches."

"Sounds good to me."

Marly looks up at me. "What, you okay?"

The question throws me off, and I stare at her for a second before finally managing - "I'm okay. Why?"

"I don't know. You seem off."

My face burns. I look away and pick up a menu. "Just tired."

"Me too. I had a psych test today, and I stayed up super late studying. I think it went alright, though."

I glance over the menu.

Marly frowns at me, her eyes softening. "You sure you're okay? I'm sorry - is this weird? I know we're not as close as you and Eliza are, but I just thought if you weren't doing anything right now-"

"No, no, it's not that. It's just -" I glance out the window. "I'm doing really bad in my chemistry class. Failing, almost."

"Ohh."

"I don't even - I don't even like chemistry." I press my hand against my mouth and watch as cars slow down outside, brake lights flashing red. I don't even know why I'm telling Marly all this. Maybe because there's no one else I can say it to.

"That's okay," Marly says kindly. "You don't have to like chemistry. Why don't you switch classes second semester? My roommate's going to do that."

"But I'm here on a scholarship."

"So?"

"And my uncle has -" I clear my throat and glance up towards the ceiling. "Just - people are really excited that I'm here, taking these courses."

A cheerful waitress walks up to our table, and Marly orders for the both of us. When she's gone, Marly turns back to me, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's probably just burn-out," she explains. "You're pushing yourself really hard in all your classes, and you're far from home, and you miss your family."

Tom is family. And so are you. "I guess so."

"You should find something you're passionate about. Not for academics - just for fun. For me, it's makeup and hair and things like that. For some people, it's art, or reading, or music, or... I don't know, whatever. Knitting or something." She smiles.

"Yeah, maybe." For me, it used to be space. I haven't looked up at the stars in forever.

"Or just getting involved in a service project or something... find a homeless shelter to volunteer at, or a soup kitchen, or a place like that. Just to... I don't know. Remind yourself that college and grades aren't everything."

I tuck my hands in my sweatshirt sleeves and rub my ear with my shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right." Marly laughs. "We just learned about this in psych a couple weeks ago. And that's why suicide rates in university go up a bit - our brains are still developing, hormones are still going crazy, and feeling like you're trapped in a bubble of grades and pressure is really unhealthy."

The waitress comes back with two sandwiches and a fries, and Marly grins. "Okay, enough of this sad talk. I'm so excited for you to try this. I can't believe you've never been here before."

I smile at her, grabbing a fry and dipping it in ketchup. But her words echo in my brain.

Suicide? I don't want to kill myself. Sometimes, I just want to cease to exist.

~

I'm standing at my parents' grave. Snow is floating from the sky - I'm wearing Cameron's sweatshirt, the fabric soft, the shoulders sprinkled with thick snowflakes. It's dark. I am alone.

Catherine and Will Hughes. Their names are etched into the stone - I try and picture their faces but can't. I am sorry - I am so sorry. I am horrible. I should remember.

I turn to leave when I see another tombstone, just as old and faded, the soil around the bottom iced and frozen, flower-less, picture-less. Tom's name is on the stone - Tom - my Tom? How could no one tell me he died? I reach out to brush dirt from the grave - I try to picture his face but I cannot. "I'm sorry," I say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." No one has to say it, but I am responsible - the guilt is in my stomach, the lead-like weight forcing me to kneel.

There's a fourth tombstone - newer, fresher - Cameron Beckett - and another, Veronica, and another, Hailey - they are dead because of me. How could I do this? How could I kill them and then not even picture their faces - my limbs have hardened. I cannot move. "I'm sorry," I say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The graveyard is cold and dark, and I feel sick a horrible sickness, a horrible, enveloping, sinking guilt.

"Sam?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Sam - stop. Sam, wake up."

I am crying. Someone's hand is on my shoulder.

"Sam, it's just a dream. It's not real."

It is real. The guilt is real. I jerk up, my whole body shaking, hold my head in my hands. I am sweaty - the lamp is on, washing a yellow light over the dorm room. Whisper, "Sorry, Pierce."

Piece sits on the edge of his bed. He has his glasses on, and his face is twisted in concern. "It's okay, man. Seriously. I've dealt with that shit before, too. It's just a dream though, okay?"

I picture Cameron's face, and then Tom's - how could I forget them? I am horrible.

"Yeah," I say, trying to get my shit together, my chest rising and falling unsteadily. "Yeah."

"You want me to get your something? Like - I don't know, water or something?"

"No, I'm okay. God, I'm sorry I woke you." The alarm clock on my desks reads 4 am.

Pierce shakes his head. "It's okay."

"You can turn off the lamp. I think I'll just head to the bathroom quick."

Pierce doesn't turn off the lamp. My t-shirt is soaked in sweat, and I pull it off and swap it for another as I head to the door.

"You sure you don't need anything?"

I pause with my hand on the doorknob, staring at my knuckles. "Well - Pierce?"

"Yeah?"

"You know last week, the thing your dad said about - about volunteering at the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think I could - do you think I can help - maybe I'd like to -"

"Of course. I'll talk to him."

"Thanks." And then I leave the dorm room without looking back, heading to the bathrooms, praying it's empty, glancing back only as the yellow light spilling from the crack under the door turns to black.

A/N ahh thanks for 21k reads! thoughts and theories so far? what about sam volunteering at the hospital?