Dear Heimer
Dear Heimer, October 31st, 2017
Did you see how my satin pink attire has been splattered with a dangerous color of red? The red was all moist and mushy, but that was the least of our problems.
Twelve hours ago, I was helping Aria fill in her eyebrows and perfect her sterling gold eyeshadow for the biggest day of her life. Laura was adjusting Aria’s veil and Lindsay was zipping up her dress. Aria was having her fairytale, while I was bitching to myself about how much I couldn’t wait for all this too be over and was thinking about how stupid it is to have a wedding on Halloween, but you know my whole spiel about that. Twelve hours ago, these were all the little things we had to worry about. In a matter of seconds, all of that switched, remember?
After many hair tweaks and makeup fixes later, you and the other groomsmen walked in the limo with us. You held my hand and told me I was pretty, as I tried to convince myself that I felt nothing and decided not to say that you looked handsome too.
I caught a glimpse of you staring outside the window as we were in the car, but had you convinced that I was looking at Aria, happily ignorant Aria who didn’t believe in the whole it’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding. In the limo, halfway to the chapel, I sat on the opposite side of you and caught another small glimpse of your freckled face. That useless glimpse of you was the last thing I saw before the limo driver swerved into the wrong lane and smashed into another car. I don’t remember if the car flipped over. I don’t remember how bad the accident was, I simply remember an unforgettable swift of my body as my eyes shut. Oh shit, Liam’s going into surgery now, guess I’ll get on with this later. See you Heimer.
-Michelle
Dear Heimer, November 1st, 2017
Where was I with my last letter? Oh right, the shit show that was the accident. This may sound twisted for me to say, but truthfully, yesterday was literal shit show and we are all fucked up, Heimer. But I’ll get into that later. When I woke up, I was on a gurney being rushed into a hospital. The first thing I did was shot up and pulled the wires out of my nose. Hopelessly, I asked about Aria, Laura, Lindsay, Liam, Adam, Milo, and you. I cried a lot as they forced me to lie back down. My dress was still on, but the bottom of it was torn of shreds and top of it was cover in blood, was it even my own? I had no idea.
I looked next to me and there was Liam and Laura, both asleep and with a billion wires attached to their face. Seconds later, I heard doctors running in with another gurney, which was where Aria was, wedding dress off and everything.
“Where’s my Fiancé? Where’s Milo?” Aria screamed for the whole hospital to hear.
The doctor continued to reassure her and that everything was fine. I was hoping Aria didn’t see me because I didn’t want all of this to be real. And of course, she didn’t see me and was pushed into another room, a wish I never should have made. I begged them not to bring me into the X-Ray room because I needed to see everything, I need to see you, but it didn’t work. Turned out all I had were bruised fucking ribs and just needed to be prescribed to these painkillers. All this fuss over me over nothing.
I go to the waiting room to see if I could get any information but just got distracted by the news. Can you believe it? We made it on TV.
“This morning, along the Gaybelle bridge was one of the biggest accidents this town has seen. Limo driver, who is yet to be identified, went into the wrong lane and crashed into a pickup truck. The limo, with eight other passengers in it, was rolled over multiple times as the limo landed on its side. The limo driver was announced dead on the scene, while the eight other passengers and the pickup car driver are currently in the hospital, fighting for their lives,” the reporter announced as she was standing on the scene.
Fighting for our lives. Who even says that crap? This isn’t some CW drama show. This is real fucking life and this is happening to us, not them. After that, the news played some video of the limo literally flipping over a bunch of times and landing on its side. When I saw that black long car just flip once, my heart sank. I can’t believe that we were stuck in that. And the hard part isn’t even over yet, it’s only somewhat started. But I can’t even talk about that now. I’ve got to give myself a few hours.
-Michelle
Dear Heimer, November 1st, 2017
Everyone and their moms are here today, literally. I’ve never met Liam’s or Laura’s family before, but here they are, all teary eyed as ever. You know how I feel about crowds? I fucking hate them. You know how Laura feels about crowds? She’s obsessed with the attention. Too bad she couldn’t make it through this to see it. All her cousins, uncles, and best friends were there, crossing their fingers and visiting the chapel in hope for Laura Sinder’s safety. Laura’s heart was far too damaged from the crash to make it through another night. A part of me wanted to cry when I saw her family cry, but I just couldn’t, maybe you’re right about me being a complete and absolute robot. I didn’t really know Laura, she was just Aria’s bridesmaid and friend from high school. Aria still hadn’t woken up so I couldn’t really tell her that her high school bestie just died. Everyone from the limo was as sleep, yet I still haven’t shut my eyes for even a moment since I saw that first red stain on my satin pink dress. Oh great, time to answer even more questions about this damn accident, read the next one soon, pal.
-Michelle
Dear Heimer, November 2nd, 2017
Did you miss me? Probably not because you’re getting all these letters at once but boy did I miss writing to you. Oh look, see, I portrayed an emotion. Could you be any more proud? You really cannot tell me for even a second that I am not Chandler Bing from Friends, it’s so obvious that I am. You probably think I’m stalling and placing all this useless information that you don’t really care about, and you’re right, I am, but at least I’m pretty hilarious.
I’ve been staying in the hospital every night since October 31st. I just sit in the waiting room for god knows how long. I’ve gone home all of once to just get a baggy sweatshirt and jeans to wear throughout my stay. Last night, I was sitting next to Liam’s mom, who was almost as committed to staying by everyone’s side as I am.
“Is your mom coming?” Janine, Liam’s mom, asked me.
“Oh, um no. I don’t even think she knows I’m here,” I whispered to her, so quietly that I hope that this would make her stop talking to me.
“Why? Don’t you think she wants to be there for you?”
“I think that’s the last thing she wants.”
“Not on good terms?”
“Let’s just say the second she found out I was using she kicked me out. She couldn’t handle me at my worst so why does she deserve to see me when I’m finally clean?”
“How long have you been sober?”
“270 days. Heroin free and everything.”
“Well, take it from a mother, the last thing we want is to see our children fall apart and sometimes we push them much to harder than we realize. We’re so fortunately flawed.”
I smiled for the first time since October 31st. No one knows about my drug abuse except you and Aria, but now Liam’s mother did too. Who knew talking about something like that would make me smile at a time like this? Four seconds after I looked up at Janine and smiled, Liam’s random machinery started making all of these unknown noises. A bunch of beeping, the kind of alert and serious beeping you hear when a fire alarm goes off. Within seconds, about four doctors rushed into the room while Janine and I followed, with tears in Janine’s eyes. Seeing her cry actually made me cry, who would have thought?
“Let’s get a crash cart in here!” the very skinny female doctor started screaming.
“What the hell is going on?” Janine demanded, with my hand clenched onto hers.
“Just let us do what we have to do ma’am. Charge to 100!”
The doctor shocked Liam with some random paddles, and watching his body rise like that the second he was shocked was just, confusing. His body could move yet he couldn’t move. The doctors did it again and then put a tube in his mouth. Pushing Janine and me out of the way, the doctors took Liam into yet another surgery. Operation after operation they can’t figure out what’s wrong with Liam. All they know is that something is wrong, clearly. Janine and I stood in Liam’s empty room with her head on my shoulder and stupid salty water getting in my eyes, god damn it.
-Michelle
Dear Heimer, November 3rd, 2017
This morning, Lindsay died. Lindsay was Aria’s friend from college, but to me, just another dead stranger that I know suddenly wanted to know. Janine asked me if I was okay because, once again, I didn’t cry. All I could do was shut the fuck up, except with Janine. Other than you and Aria, it’s really hard for me to talk to other people
“It’s okay to cry, you know,” Janine told me with her hand on my shoulder.
“Is it? I didn’t really know Lindsay. I didn’t know anyone from that damn wedding party,” I explained to Janine and partly to myself.
“But all of you have been together for the last at least month, right?”
“Yeah, for wedding crap. We learned little to nothing about each other. Plus, I’m not the emotional type. Death scares me more than it saddens me.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed that quite clearly.”
I smiled at Janine as she kissed my forehead. Was this what it felt like? Is this what it felt like to have an adult care about you? Like a Mom?
Lindsay died of some brain hemorrhage, whatever that means. Her head was in pretty bad shape when we came in on the 31st, but the doctors were so sure that they fixed it. Yet this morning, her head apparently had some internal brain bleed that the neuro surgeon failed to notice. And as the surgeons come into the waiting room with all of those “I’m so sorry” phrases to Lindsay’s parents, it was clear that no one was forgiven. Lindsay’s parents even made it quite clear that they were going to sue these doctors for this error, so that’s going to be a whole other mess. When will this stop? All these messes and screw ups. A part of me feels like I can’t stick around for this anymore, but I know much I would disappoint you if I just run, so I’m trying. I promise.
-Michelle
Dear Heimer, November 4th, 2017
I’m so sick and tired of listing all these deaths to you, and for once, I don’t have to. Aria and Adam finally woke up, but not as wonderfully as we’d all planned. Adam, Mr. big shot lawyer and soon to be father apparently is an absolute mess. Currently, he has little to no mobility to his legs from the accident. If he doesn’t go through the many months of physical therapy, he’ll end up paralyzed. And if he does go through with it, there’s still no promises that he can ever get his legs to move properly or even half as well as they used to. Isn’t that crazy? This is Milo’s work buddy. The buddy who got forced into the wedding because Aria insisted that Milo had another groomsman to equal up with her bridesmaids. Adam is angry and broken, and his wife is quiet. His wife holds him when she lets him, but she’s still quiet. She doesn’t really know what to say, nor does anyone else.
With Aria finally awake, she seems to be mostly out of the deep end filled with damages. Her lungs are fine and she’s finally breathing on her own, so who knows, maybe she’ll be sitting in the waiting room chairs with me instead of a hospital bed. I spend a lot of time holding her, that’s what best friends do right? Maids of honor? Friends since we were seven? A constant visitor to me throughout rehab? When she first woke up, her face was still pale, washed out, and emotions were completely absent.
“Where’s Milo?” Aria asked me with her voice shaking uncontrollably.
“He’s fine, sweetie,” I lied to her, while focusing on the fact that she was alive.
“What happened?”
“There was a car accident. Everyone’s been beaten up pretty badly, it’s just-it’s not looking good.”
“Just say it.”
“Say what?”
“Tell me who is dead.”
“You just woke up, don’t you want some wa- “
“M, please.”
“Laura and Lindsay.”
Aria said nothing. She went silent. After five minutes of silence and me pushing a water cup into her hand, she pulled onto my arm and wept. As I held her head, I just thought about how I was going to tell her about how Adam’s most likely paralyzed, how Liam keeps trying to die for an unknown reason, and how Milo still hasn’t woken up since October 31st. That’s going to become my next issue, one that I begged Janine to explain to Aria with me. You’re better in crisis than I am, so I’ll try to be you.
-Michelle.
Dear Heimer, November 7th, 2017
Milo died this afternoon, and I’m worried that Aria will tell her mind to stop breathing and go back to damaging her lungs like before. Yeah, that’s how bad this situation has become. You’re Milo’s best man, and he loves you and have known you forever, while I’m Aria’s best friend and have known her forever. We’re supposed to be the two best people in Milo and Aria’s life and look what happened to them? All this shit that they don’t deserve but couldn’t be stopped. The moment I saw Aria mourn over the loss of the love of her life from college, I reminded myself of all the times I wasn’t the best for her. Did you feel that way about Milo too? You must have. You’re too good of a person not to.
I don’t exactly understand what was wrong with Milo. They said that every organ in his body kept on getting worse and worse by the day. First it was his heart, then it was his lungs, and then it was his brain. It’s like every internal part of Milo’s body got destroyed in that damn crash. Externally, he looked fine. He had the same old Milo face with a few cuts on his foreheads and bruises on his body. Physically, he was still the same old Milo. Yet every time the doctors fixed a broken part of him, he’d just fall apart all over again. I’m still hoping for something that even resembles fine to appear again, don’t you?
-Michelle.
Dear Heimer, November 14th, 2017
Funerals have been planned, a law suit has been put in place, friends have been released, as I’m making my way to check in. Those stupid doctors finally figured out what was wrong with Liam, his kidney was failing. Two days ago, they realized that he needed a kidney transplant, yet there wasn’t any donor, and Liam had little to no time left. So, guess what I fucking did? That’s right. I’m giving him my kidney. Crazy, right? I don’t even know Liam, at all. But truthfully, I’ve come to know his mother. His mother has come to know my history and come to know me more than I know myself. Even though Liam may just be an acquaintance, I knew I wasn’t going to regret saving him.
This is something I know you would do, and since you aren’t you anymore, I’ll be you for you.
Dear Heimer November 14th, 2017
Pt. 2 of last letter:
Since you’ve been gone since October 31st, I’ll step up and be a you. If only you weren’t the first one to be found dead on the road from the accident. If only you hadn’t died with your faces covered in blood, scars, and unrecognizable features. If only I’d talked to your parents and told them how I knew you. If only I had convinced myself sooner that I wouldn’t have made it through all this wedding prep and post wedding drama without you.
Dear Jacob. Heimer? Can you even hear me anymore? Did you ever hear me in the first place? Did you ever enjoy how much we’d make fun of ballroom dancing when we practiced our waltz together? Who did you worry about most when the accident happened? Was it me? Do you remember October 29th where I told you all about my depression and what current anxiety medications I’m on? Do you remember on October 27th when you told me I was far too depressing for my own good and I told you to fuck off? Do you remember when I considered you the stranger from the wedding party that I wanted to get to know all over again? No, of course you don’t, because I never told you. Maybe I’m too young and naïve to be saying and thinking all this, but this is the best kind of expression I could do. Even though these letters may in the ground with you, I hope that you have still found a way to read them. And maybe, when I’m put under all that anesthesia and medication in a few hours, I’ll be able to imagine you looking at me. But that’s a big maybe that I won’t hold on to. I mean believing in something good is far to optimistic for me.
-Michelle
PS: I may or may not have finally called my mom like I knew you would bitch at me to do and she may or may not be on a plane over here. Maybe.