How Much For Happy?

Chapter One-A Sinners Prayer

Sliding out of his arms, I gave his sleeping body a quick frown before starting to rummage through the pieces of clothing that covered his dorm room floor. I got dressed quickly and snuck out of the room, feeling the misty ocean breeze hit my face. I sighed a little to myself, looking around for my car. I quickly spotted it and walked towards it, still feeling the alcohol burning my throat. The night before was kind of a blur, like most nights before, but I didn’t care. At least if you can’t remember, the memories can’t hurt you.

Making my way back home finally I stared up at the mansion before sneaking up the steps and unlocking the door. Of course, I knew my mother wouldn’t be awake. She probably never knew I was gone. It had only been a month since Marissa’s death, and as expected everyone was a mess. That’s not what bothered me though, its that they all had each other, the Cohen’s and my mom, and Summer, they had people to push away from, me, I had no one. Though, I knew if I did have someone, I’d push away. Truth isn’t exactly my forte.

I snuck into my room quietly, stripping off all but my white lacey boy shorts and bra and climbed into my bed. Marissa’s bed. It use to be anyways. I could still almost smell the scent of her annoyingly girly perfume that I always joked with her about. But these days, it was all I wore. The perfume I mean, Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana.

The day of her graduation, I had started redoing her room. But I stopped, that night. When we got the call. I figured if I left it like it was, it would be sort of like she wasn’t gone. I was wrong, but sometimes, in the mornings I would forget, I’d wake up in her bed like I did after a bad dream when I was little, and for a while I’d pretend she was just off with Summer get her nails done or something. But then I’d leave my room and hear my mothers sobs through her bedroom door, and the pain and memories would come back to me once again.

I glanced over at the picture on my nightstand. Marissa, my mom and I the day of her graduation, smiling. The last picture of the Cooper girls all together. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes so I crawled under the blankets and closed my eyes, trying to hide from myself. Eventually I fell asleep, only to awake hours later by the doorbell.

Glancing at the clock which read 9:20 am, I sighed. I knew my mother wouldn’t get it, so I put on the first thing I saw, which happened to be Marissa’s pink Berkeley hoodie and headed for the stairs. I already knew who it was, though. Not exactly who it was, but I figured it was another person stopping by to give their sympathy, along with flowers and some form of casserole.

Opening the door, I looked up at the youngest member of the Cohen family, Seth. He offered a sympathetic smile and tried not to stare at me. I understood, considering I wasn’t wearing much. He held a little shoe box out to me and I looked confused, usually food was stored in old dishes, or a few times a paper sack from a take out restaurant, but we hadn’t gotten an old shoe box before.

I took it a little confused and finally spoke,

“what’s this..?” I questioned, looking at him cluelessly.

He took a second to say something, but finally started talking,

“Uhm, my mom and I were going through old pictures.. We found some of Marissa from the past few years and thought you guys might want them to hold on too..” he started, seeing me look down a little, “I told my mom it might be too soon, but she insisted that I bring them over anyways.. But you don’t have to look at them now, I can bring them back some other time if you want..” he kept rambling almost nervously, he knew it was a sore spot, and he looked genially sorry about it. Finally I forced a smile and shook my head,

“no, its fine.. Thank you” I said softly, trying to sound as meaningful as I could. I knew he was pretty torn up about losing Marissa as well, and I knew Summer was too. But in a sense I felt that Seth was almost like me in the way that he had lost everyone. Not lost in death, but he had lost one of his best friends, Ryan hadn’t been seen since the funeral, Summer went off to Brown earlier than expected to get away from the memories for Marissa. And his parents probably wouldn’t understand what he was feeling since the death.

He gave a small nod which snapped me out of my thoughts, I could tell he was confused at what to say next,

“I guess I should go..” he started, I nodded, offering yet another small and fake smile.

“Thanks again..” I said as he started to turn around. He quickly nodded and turn back to me,

“take care Mini Coop” he said, almost as if he knew my pain. I nodded before closing the door and walking to the couch. I sat the box in front of me, debating in my head whether I should look or not. I finally broke and opened it, looking on top of the pile of pictures. The first one that got to me was a picture of Marissa, Summer, Seth and Ryan at the sweatshirt party. Marissa was wearing the hoodie that I was now wearing. I stared for a second before looking at the next, which was a picture of the whole family at a Christmas part probably four years before. I shook my head, feeling the tears and put the lid back on the box, leaving it on the couch as I ran to the comfort of my bed. It didn’t do much though, the tears were still streaming freely down my face, probably making the eyeliner and mascara from the night before smear down my face.

I finally had enough and walked into my bathroom and slammed the door. I collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. All the pictures an memories going through my head like soundless film. I quickly pulled off the hoodie and threw it aside, seeing my left arm clearly now. I stared at the scabs for a while, feeling my hot salty tears wash over the marks, I quickly got up, the memories and anger still washing through my body. I made my way to the counter, grabbing a straight razor from the drawer. I didn’t think twice before leaning against the bathtub and carving wildly into my wrist. One, two, three deep cuts across my wrist before dropping it to the floor as the blood ran down my stick like arms. It burned, it stung, but it felt so amazing. It was like being able to release all of the anger inside of me. The blood poured, I knew I was losing a lot of blood but I didn’t really care. I just watched it, my tears mixing with the blood, making the cuts sting even more.

I watched and watched as my blood stained the rug on the floor, and the little clothes I had on. My eyes started to close and I drifted off into a dreamless sleep. The blood still pouring from my arm, was almost like a comfort. It made the pain more physical. It made it more real. It made me feel alive, it made me feel that if I felt this alive it was like Marissa could be alive too. I knew it was stupid to think, but it was the only way I knew how to escape.

I awoke around noon and looked down at my body. My red stained body, stained from my own dried blood. I sighed a little, running my finger across the fresh cuts before sitting upright. Picking up the razor and throwing it in the trash. I quickly shed my underwear and bra and turned on the shower, climbing in moments later and letting the hot water wash over me. I closed my eyes as it hit my arm, it burned but it still felt good to me.

I finally got out of the shower about 40 minutes later and wrapped myself in a towel. I wiped up the blood from the floor and threw all the bloody rags and clothes in the hamper before walking to my room. I quickly put on a pair of panties and a bra, before looking in my closet for something to wear. I went with my usual look. Pulling on a pair of black leggings that came to my knees and a long gray shirt that was covered black skulls and stars, it was long sleeved, which was all I wore to cover the cuts on my arm. People looked at me funny still, July in Newport Beach and here was a girl in long sleeves. I looked in the mirror as I brushed my hair, letting it dry as I applied my makeup. The blackest of the black eyeliner and eyeshadow, with a little shimmer to it. A light gloss and bright pink blush. My hair dried and I parted it to the side, letting it fall in front of my left eye a little. I slipped on a pair of black ballet flats before grabbing my purse and heading out the door. I didn’t bother telling my mom I was leaving, she wouldn’t notice anyways. It was about three when I arrived at the beach. I looked out at the ocean, blocking out the faces staring around me. Some of them gave sad smiles, some gave disappointed looks. Most just looked away. I put the earphones to my iPod in and turned it on, blasting the music in my ears to block out any other sound or thought in my head.

I sat there and watched until the sun went down, and people around scattered. That’s when I took out the bottle of Jack Daniels in my purse and took a big gulp, letting the burning taste take over my mouth. I then got up, walking around for a while before heading into the cemetery. I passed people, but none of them really noticed me, and the ones that did ignored me. I walked quickly and sat on the grave, looking at the tombstone. I came every night, I did the same thing daily. Sometimes I had to wait for others to leave, random people that she touched through out her 18 years. Tonight no one was there though, so I sat, and stared, drinking more from the bottle. After the alcohol was running through my veins quickly I started to talk.

“Hey Riss..” I said quietly, not afraid of talking to my dead sister, I had done this every day for the past month, I told her about my day, about the pictures, about the cuts, about mom not leaving her room. Marissa didn’t judge. She just listened.

“Dad called earlier too.. But I ignored the call.. I still can’t believe he didn’t come to the funeral.. He didn’t say goodbye..” I kept talking, “no one has heard from Ryan still, my guess is that he’s probably looking for Volchok.” I kept talking and talking, as my eyes started to water but i kept telling her every thought in my head when I heard someone walking behind me. I jumped quickly, putting the bottle of Jack back in my purse before they noticed, when I turned around I saw Seth standing there, he looked away quickly as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t think anyone would be out here..” he started before starting to walk away, I quickly got up to follow him.

“No its fine..” I told him, “I can go..” I said, noticing the flower in his hand I smiled sadly.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt..” he said again, and I shook my head, looking at my phone. It was already two am, I’d been there for 4 hours rambling to my dead sister like an idiot.

“No.. its okay, I’ve been here for a while anyways.. You go ahead, I guess I’m sort of a cemetery hog..” I said shrugging a little, trying to break the tension between us, he let out a small chuckle thankfully not thinking it was too soon to say something like that.

“You can stay if you want..” he offered, I looked at him for a second trying to tell if he wanted me to stay, or if he was just being polite and asking anyways. It occurred to me that Seth Cohen wasn’t the sincere type so I nodded, before walking back and sitting where I had before. He quickly followed, sitting a few feet away and setting the flower down. He looked at me curiously but didn’t talk. He didn’t have to, I almost knew his thoughts.

We sat there for about an hour in a comfortable silence, not a word said. There wasn’t really words that would explain our feelings anyways. We just kind of stared at the engraved rock in front of us, me feeling the alcohol in my blood still, and him feeling the pain from losing one of his best friends.


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