With The Monsters (1/1)
“You don’t understand.”
Emily shook her head, and Naomi reached out for her hand, but she pulled it away before she had a chance. Things had been fine between them for a long while, they had managed to smooth over the cracks that had formed, and had got everything back to an even keel. Emily loved Naomi, Naomi loved Emily and everybody was happy. Well, apart from Jenna, but even she was coming to terms with the fact that one of her twins was gay now.
And yet, three simple words had turned things on their head once again. Two hours ago, Naomi had been curled up in bed, with her arm resting lazily across Emily’s stomach. Half an hour ago, they’d awoken and a misplaced comment had turned into a blazing argument. Now, Naomi was convinced that - yet again - she had well and truly fucked things over. If only she knew how to keep control of her mouth, if only Emily didn’t have to overreact. Jesus Christ, was it really too much to ask for Emily to just calm down?
In a second, Emily vacated the bed, haphazardly pulled on some clothing and she disappeared downstairs. Naomi tried to make chase, but she failed dismally. In the end, she was standing in the door frame, wearing just a dressing gown and begging Emily to come back. Emily acted oblivious to the calls; she didn’t even turn back and look as Naomi called for her. It was just the alcohol talking; she hadn’t meant any of it. She was still drunk from last night and she was sorry.
But then, Naomi was always the one who to be sorry, wasn’t she? She was always the one apologising for something, anything. Emily had this way about her, she somehow managed to make Naomi feel guilty for even the slightest of things and she hated it. When she knew for certain that Emily wasn’t coming back, Naomi headed back indoors, grabbed her mobile phone and cigarettes from the living and headed outside. She needed to think, she needed to get her head straight again.
She watched as the wisps of smoke climbed into the air and disappeared into the ether. She still loved Emily, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but wonder if whatever it was they had was disappearing like her smoke was dissipating into the night sky. Sometimes, love alone just wasn’t enough. Naomi desperately wished it was, because then, maybe they would still have been in bed instead of outside, half-drunk and moping because the other wasn’t around.
Eventually, the chill got to her. She extinguished the cigarette against the brick wall and dropped the stub on top of the pile on the ground. Shivering, Naomi made her way back indoors. Instead of going back to bed, she went and sat on the couch and stared out at nothing in particular. As an afterthought, she pulled a blanket on around her shoulders and waited. Emily would come back soon; she would want to apologise for overreacting, and she would say she was sorry too, and then they would kiss and have make-up sex and everything would be fucking perfect again.
When she woke, it was to the shrill tones of her mobile phone calling out for her attention. Naomi scowled, swore and whilst she was still half-asleep, she reached out for the offending device and pressed it against her ear with a slurred ‘hello’. When she heard what the caller had to say next, she swore loudly, apologised profusely and then noted down the important details.
Jesus Christ, she had to get down to the hospital and fast.
xxx
“You’re Emily Fitch’s next of kin?” the nurse asked and Naomi nodded.
Three months back, after Emily moved in with her, they had decided to get engaged after a particularly nasty argument. They hadn’t set a date for when they would have their civil union; though Emily always said she’d have preferred to get married properly, but it was a good enough compromise to last until the fuckwits in parliament saw sense for equality. As a consequence, they had already unofficially decided they were each other’s next of kin. Some days, Naomi was still thrilled by the concept of actually having a wife in the (near) future, other days, like earlier this morning, she wasn’t quite so sure.
Now, guilt was eating away at her insides. She knew it was going to be pretty bad, the doctor had made it that clear on the phone. All she could think was - that she could lose Emily, that this could be it, that she had no choice in the matter now - and it was her fault. If she had been able to calm Emily down, if she had stopped her from storming off - presumably to her parents - then maybe, she wouldn’t have been hospitalised.
Naomi still wasn’t sure how, or where, driving under the influence of alcohol had come into the matter. They didn’t own a car, not yet, anyway. It was far too expensive. Emily’s parents did, though, and she knew that her fiancée was insured to drive it. Had she really decided to borrow her dad’s car in the dead of the night, still half-drunk in order to go for a drive and calm down? It made sense, and yet, the result was that she had wrapped the car around a tree and thus, was now left fighting for her life.
All because of a stupid fucking row.
All because Naomi hadn’t been able to keep her mouth fucking shut.
Without another word, the nurse led her to a private room which was filled with numerous devices and machinery. She could barely see Emily’s body lying prone for all the tubes that had been unceremoniously shoved into various orifices. And yet, Naomi knew that she needed them. It was this machinery that was giving her a fighting chance, that was keeping her alive. A solitary tear escaped from her tear duct and Naomi bitterly wiped it away. She had no right to be crying, not when she was the trigger for Emily’s current state. At least nobody else had been involved, allegedly. There was no other family wishing their loved one would wake up - or worse, mourning for their death. Emily was the only one involved and had been lucky that there were witnesses so she could be pulled from the wreckage alive.
And yet, with her current state, Emily didn’t look lucky at all.
Tentatively, Naomi sat down beside her and rested one hand on top of Emily’s. Emily didn’t respond in the slightest; she might as well have not been there at all.
“I’m sorry,” Naomi whispered. “Please get better.”
All that was left for her to do was wish - and even pray - that Emily wouldn’t be snatched away from her so soon.
Emily shook her head, and Naomi reached out for her hand, but she pulled it away before she had a chance. Things had been fine between them for a long while, they had managed to smooth over the cracks that had formed, and had got everything back to an even keel. Emily loved Naomi, Naomi loved Emily and everybody was happy. Well, apart from Jenna, but even she was coming to terms with the fact that one of her twins was gay now.
And yet, three simple words had turned things on their head once again. Two hours ago, Naomi had been curled up in bed, with her arm resting lazily across Emily’s stomach. Half an hour ago, they’d awoken and a misplaced comment had turned into a blazing argument. Now, Naomi was convinced that - yet again - she had well and truly fucked things over. If only she knew how to keep control of her mouth, if only Emily didn’t have to overreact. Jesus Christ, was it really too much to ask for Emily to just calm down?
In a second, Emily vacated the bed, haphazardly pulled on some clothing and she disappeared downstairs. Naomi tried to make chase, but she failed dismally. In the end, she was standing in the door frame, wearing just a dressing gown and begging Emily to come back. Emily acted oblivious to the calls; she didn’t even turn back and look as Naomi called for her. It was just the alcohol talking; she hadn’t meant any of it. She was still drunk from last night and she was sorry.
But then, Naomi was always the one who to be sorry, wasn’t she? She was always the one apologising for something, anything. Emily had this way about her, she somehow managed to make Naomi feel guilty for even the slightest of things and she hated it. When she knew for certain that Emily wasn’t coming back, Naomi headed back indoors, grabbed her mobile phone and cigarettes from the living and headed outside. She needed to think, she needed to get her head straight again.
She watched as the wisps of smoke climbed into the air and disappeared into the ether. She still loved Emily, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but wonder if whatever it was they had was disappearing like her smoke was dissipating into the night sky. Sometimes, love alone just wasn’t enough. Naomi desperately wished it was, because then, maybe they would still have been in bed instead of outside, half-drunk and moping because the other wasn’t around.
Eventually, the chill got to her. She extinguished the cigarette against the brick wall and dropped the stub on top of the pile on the ground. Shivering, Naomi made her way back indoors. Instead of going back to bed, she went and sat on the couch and stared out at nothing in particular. As an afterthought, she pulled a blanket on around her shoulders and waited. Emily would come back soon; she would want to apologise for overreacting, and she would say she was sorry too, and then they would kiss and have make-up sex and everything would be fucking perfect again.
When she woke, it was to the shrill tones of her mobile phone calling out for her attention. Naomi scowled, swore and whilst she was still half-asleep, she reached out for the offending device and pressed it against her ear with a slurred ‘hello’. When she heard what the caller had to say next, she swore loudly, apologised profusely and then noted down the important details.
Jesus Christ, she had to get down to the hospital and fast.
xxx
“You’re Emily Fitch’s next of kin?” the nurse asked and Naomi nodded.
Three months back, after Emily moved in with her, they had decided to get engaged after a particularly nasty argument. They hadn’t set a date for when they would have their civil union; though Emily always said she’d have preferred to get married properly, but it was a good enough compromise to last until the fuckwits in parliament saw sense for equality. As a consequence, they had already unofficially decided they were each other’s next of kin. Some days, Naomi was still thrilled by the concept of actually having a wife in the (near) future, other days, like earlier this morning, she wasn’t quite so sure.
Now, guilt was eating away at her insides. She knew it was going to be pretty bad, the doctor had made it that clear on the phone. All she could think was - that she could lose Emily, that this could be it, that she had no choice in the matter now - and it was her fault. If she had been able to calm Emily down, if she had stopped her from storming off - presumably to her parents - then maybe, she wouldn’t have been hospitalised.
Naomi still wasn’t sure how, or where, driving under the influence of alcohol had come into the matter. They didn’t own a car, not yet, anyway. It was far too expensive. Emily’s parents did, though, and she knew that her fiancée was insured to drive it. Had she really decided to borrow her dad’s car in the dead of the night, still half-drunk in order to go for a drive and calm down? It made sense, and yet, the result was that she had wrapped the car around a tree and thus, was now left fighting for her life.
All because of a stupid fucking row.
All because Naomi hadn’t been able to keep her mouth fucking shut.
Without another word, the nurse led her to a private room which was filled with numerous devices and machinery. She could barely see Emily’s body lying prone for all the tubes that had been unceremoniously shoved into various orifices. And yet, Naomi knew that she needed them. It was this machinery that was giving her a fighting chance, that was keeping her alive. A solitary tear escaped from her tear duct and Naomi bitterly wiped it away. She had no right to be crying, not when she was the trigger for Emily’s current state. At least nobody else had been involved, allegedly. There was no other family wishing their loved one would wake up - or worse, mourning for their death. Emily was the only one involved and had been lucky that there were witnesses so she could be pulled from the wreckage alive.
And yet, with her current state, Emily didn’t look lucky at all.
Tentatively, Naomi sat down beside her and rested one hand on top of Emily’s. Emily didn’t respond in the slightest; she might as well have not been there at all.
“I’m sorry,” Naomi whispered. “Please get better.”
All that was left for her to do was wish - and even pray - that Emily wouldn’t be snatched away from her so soon.