Sweet Fall

“If you don’t get a handle on this soon, we are talking a matter of months before your body will cease to function.” Dr. Lund continued, but I stayed focused on the dove. It was white, pure… beautiful. For a fleeting moment, I wished I were that dove, that I could fly away. Fly away from all of this… confusion… this pressure to be… perfect.

“You are at the stage of your disorder now where you’re losing your hair, your kidneys are shutting down, your teeth are rotting, your incessant purging has worn away the enamel to nothing, and your heart is too strained to cope.”

Dr. Lund sighed and leaned forward, but my dove and I maintained eye contact. I didn’t want to listen to what Dr. Lund had to say. I knew he was just trying to scare me.

The doctor reached forward and gripped my hand, forcing me to meet his serious visage. “This is it, Lexi. This is what it comes down to, the moment you choose life or death, right here, right now. It all comes down to this minute, this second. Fight this. Beat this once and for all. For your family… for yourself.”

As I focused once again on the clock on the wall, the second hand tick-tocking by, I felt a lone tear slip down my cheek, the wet droplet splashing onto the skin on the back of my hand gripping my leg. I watched that drop glisten. Then lifting my head, I watched as my dove seemed to straighten in shock at my crying.

Realization then dawned. I’d let them all get to me. They’d filtered through the cracks. I’d let them sway me from my goal. That droplet was my strength trying to escape my body. I was resolved. There would be no more tears. I could not fail. I would not fail

Shaking my head, I wiped frantically at my cheeks as my dove hunkered down, its feathers fluffing and its head almost seeming to shake. The dove was disappointed in me. Another one to add to the ever-growing list.

I jumped as I felt the whisper of feather-light soothing hands massage at my shoulders, lulling me to relax. I fell into his embrace.

Do not give up now, Lexington. We cannot let them win. We are so, so close, the voice whispered in my mind’s ear, wrapping me up in its protective cocoon. The voice, both my closest friend and most hated adversary, kept me safe. Kept me from failing to achieve my goal.

I couldn’t give up yet.

I was only a few more pounds from perfection.

My emotional walls began to rebuild, brick by treasured brick, blocking out the guilt, blocking out their concerns.

Well done, Lexington. You have made the right choice. I will always be here, pushing you to perfection. We are a team, an unbreakable team. I shall never leave you, ever. Together, we can do no wrong.

A loud coo caught my attention, and I looked once again to the open window, the light summer’s breeze ghosting across my face. My dove spread its wings, turning to face the world outside, lingering only to register a worried glance at me one last time. Slowly, as it broke my gaze, it took flight, soaring high into the endless blue sky, dancing toward the sun, breaking free, never to be seen again, leaving me all alone, just me and the voice—the voice that guaranteed I would never ever fail…

Don’t tear it down, what’s left of me.

Make my heart a better place.

As I listened to the haunting lyrics of yet another song from the playlist Austin had put on, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something within my chest. The last few days had been a blur, but one thing I had known was that Austin had been by my side.

Only in the small breaks in my deepest of depressions could I feel the touch of his hand, the stroke of his callused finger running down my cheek.

I couldn’t understand why he was here.

Can you still see the heart of me?

All my agony fades away,

When you hold me in your embrace.

The lyrics filtered to my brain like a musical message, and before I knew it, I felt a wetness slide down my cheek. I knew I was crying. Only thoughts of Austin could break through the voice’s high walls.

As I stared outside the window at the burning winter sun, the sight of white feathers caught my eye. A dove flew to the tree outside my window and perched on the branch.

It was beautiful.

It reminded me of Austin’s tattoo on his throat, of the dove I saw all those years ago when I was sectioned for the first time. The sight had always calmed me. The dove: the avian representation of love and peace.

Hearing the creak of the door to my room, I didn’t turn around, but soon smelled Austin’s scent of summer rain, that fresh, cool smell that was so uniquely him. Austin would sit beside me, holding my hand and touching my face. He would never say anything, would just sit beside me, cherishing me.