Fix You

Thirteen

July 3rd 2005

Hanna wore her despair like an iron blanket pressing down on her body; it comforted and caused pain in equal measure, yet was somehow reassuring in its relentless misery. Like the sun rising, she could rely on it being her constant companion during daylight hours. And at night, while she lay curled up on her childhood bed, she let the hurt consume her as strangled cries fought their way out of her mouth, her hands curled up into fists as if she could somehow fight the anguish off.

It was a battle she couldn’t win.

For the first month after Diana’s death, it seemed right and proper that she should mourn her mother, and she didn’t give a second thought to the way she felt. Richard had returned to New York a week after the funeral, begging her to join him, but the memories of Diana and the need to settle her estate anchored Hanna to London. During their separation, she felt increasingly alone, unable to answer his calls or return his emails without breaking down, finding excuses to prevent him visiting her. She wanted to conquer her depression on her own without him ever finding out just how low she felt.

But as time went on, and the flowering bulbs of spring gave way to early summer heat, her misery continued unabated. She only left the flat for the most pressing of reasons, and even then she found herself rushing back home as soon as she could.

By June, things had reached an all-time low. She turned down any social invitations, and made every excuse not to meet with the Larsens or speak with Richard. Being with them reminded her of everything she had lost, and the jealousy she felt whenever she saw their tight, family unit consumed her. She hated herself for it.

At work, she was given a warning for lateness and absenteeism. With every word that her editor said, she had found herself nodding and agreeing with him; she was lackadaisical, uncaring, and unprofessional, and his poor opinion of her only confirmed that she was right in having an equally low opinion of herself.

Now it was 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, and she was still half-asleep, her hair dull and greasy. Her ten-day old pajamas were in desperate need of a wash. The knocking on her door was an accompanying sound to her misery, like the backbeat of a drum, and she didn’t even have enough energy to drag herself out of bed to answer it.

Then the shouting started.

“I know you’re in there, Hanna, open up!” The voice carried across the hallway and into Hanna’s room and she closed her eyes in the hope that whoever it was would go away. Just as she snuggled back into her soft, feather pillow, she heard a key turn in the lock, then the bang of the door as it hit the wall.

Clearly she had company.

She could hear the footsteps as her visitor walked across the hall, each click becoming louder as they approached her bedroom. A sense of resignation washed over her as she realized that she would have to face whoever it was, and try to get them out of her apartment as quickly as possible. Didn’t they know she wanted to be left alone?

“Jesus, it stinks in here.” Ruby wrinkled her nose up as she walked into the bedroom, immediately glancing over at Hanna and seeing her curled up under three-week old sheets.

“Go away, Ruby.” Even to her own ears, Hanna’s voice sounded monotonous and dull.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve finished my last exam; I’ve got all the time in the world to devote to making you get in the shower.” Ruby wandered over to the window and yanked open the curtains, a soft shower of dust falling from the fabric to the floor below.

Hanna blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning light. A scowl covered Ruby’s face and her usually calm demeanor was somehow agitated and nervy, increasing Hanna’s anxiety.

“I just need to go back to sleep. I’m so tired.” Hanna closed her eyes.

“Hanna, we’re so worried about you. You never call Richard; you won’t come and see Mum and Dad. You haven’t texted me once to see how my exams are going, it’s completely unlike you.”

Hanna refrained from responding, because she wanted to tell Ruby that she couldn’t care less how the Larsens were feeling, or how they never heard from her. She was like a cuckoo in the nest, poisoning their happy unit with her misery and jealousy, and they were better off without her.

She was so angry that she didn’t have a mother to hold or love her anymore.

“I’m fine, Ruby. A bit tired, and a bit emotional, but nothing I can’t handle.” Hanna pulled the sheets further up her body, until they were covering her face. Ruby was right; the stench in her bedroom was foul.

“You’re not fine.” Ruby’s eyes were getting watery, and her voice reflected her mood. “You’re anything but fine. Please let me help you.”

“I just need to close my eyes. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Have you at least gone to see a therapist?”

“There’s no point. I know what’s wrong with me; I just can’t bring myself to care.”

“Why won’t you call Richard? He’s going out of his mind.” Ruby’s face started to crumple; she sucked her lips inside her mouth, biting down on them with her teeth.

“I don’t know what to say,” Hanna whispered. Each night, she fell asleep with his name on her lips, and awoke in the early hours of the morning with the thought of him squeezing her heart like a vice.

“He loves you, Hanna. He’s going out of his mind.”

“He’s better off without me. I’ll just bring him down, too.” She let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes.