I didn't wake up in a hospital as I did every other time I had passed out, this time I was in the comfort of my own bed. I sighed in content as I gripped the dark silk duvet under my fingers enjoying the finer things that I had in life. I always loved silk and satin, they felt great on the skin and even though nothing could beat 1500 thread count, 100% pure Egyptian cotton, I still preferred my satin sheets. Sophia was the one with the Egyptian sheet sets and I was the one with the $45 USD silk sheet sets from Amazon.

"You're awake." Kwashie's face was hovering over mines as I stared up back at her.

"Something like that." I muttered.

"What triggered this episode?" She asked me.

"Didn't Richard tell you?" I wasn't in the mood to talk.

"He might've..." she trailed off.

"My mom said I should deliver this message to you." She lifted her hand to offer me a neatly folded off white paper.

I slowly lifted my arm, trying to remember how it worked. I took the paper from her with a scowl wondering if she couldn't have brought it closer seeing my obvious struggle. I unfolded the small paper and read the beautiful cursive that belonged to Mrs Ekuban.

My dear Zidania,

I hope you recover well. Do you remember that dream I had last Christmas with you getting married in the white dress? I fear that your current situation could be proving my vision correctly. I spoke with a Prophet from back home and currently awaiting some news from him.

-Mama E.

I crumpled the paper in my palms and threw it away, not caring where it fell. Tears welled at the corner of my eyes and as usual, I let them run down my face to tickle my ears. I screamed out feeling an aching pain in my chest, I felt empty. I felt as if something was taken away from me, something that would've made me happy.

You will not find happiness where you seek it most.

Her words were directed to Kwashie but they affected me. Kwashie said I made her happy but why is Kacely keeping me alive and will killing her lift the curse? I've watched enough Supernatural to know a little something something about magic.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kwashie caught my tears with her index finger and wiped it on the sheet.

"Can you lie down with me?" I asked her.

"I can't stay, I have to meet my father." She sighed.

"Leave me alone." I said dryly.

I heard her sigh once more before getting up from the sitting position she was in on my bed and walking away. I heard the soft click of the door and broke down in more tears feeling the heavy weight of the situation dawn on me. I was dying and Mama Ekuban had foreshadowed it in her dreams. It was never good to dream of weddings or wedding dresses, it meant someone was going to die and in this case that someone was me.

My drapes were drawn, everyone knew I hated when they troubled my drapes. I sighed and got up drawing the drapes and shutting out the evening sun. I didn't know what day it was nor what time because I prevented looking at my phone and I avoided the wall clock. I dropped my AC back to its depressing temperature and got back in bed. The room was dark, just how I liked it.

I laid on my back with my hands interlocked on my chest holding an imaginary flower. I laid there waiting for my death, surely it should be here any minute now. I felt like Beast with the wilting flower, watching sorrowfully as petals fall off each day feeling further and further away from unadulterated loved but in my situation I was drifting further and further away from life. Why was I so sad?

I could try cheering myself up by saying others had it worst than me but that intensified my sadness knowing someone else could be experiencing worst than what I was feeling right now and what I was feeling was hollowness. I felt the thin thread that was my will to live continuously thinning as if I was stretching apart chewed up gum. The darkness consumed me and the only thing that made me feel alive were my thoughts, they were raging like water trying to fight its way over rocks but there was no sound, only a vast emptiness that weighed heavily on my ear drums threatening me. Who knew the fucking silence was this fucking loud?

I didn't know how much time had passed but being in this moment right now, it felt like eons. I felt as if I could step through my doors and call for Richard but he wouldn't answer and when I stepped foot outside it would look like a real world Futurama. The thought of being cryogenically frozen seemed appealing enough that a smile tugged at my lips but the heavy weight of the present darkness kept my lips in a thin line. I was supposed to be awaiting death, not thinking of how to escape it then a knock sounded at my door.

Finally...

Who knew the grim reaper had such fine manners? It knocks! There's a poem that goes, death came to visit me in hot pink pants and I wondered if it could come to me clad in a dark green suit with the same sequins on the waist coat. The knock sounded again and I forgot that I didn't invite death in.

"Come in." I didn't bother to clear my throat so my raspy voice was just above a whisper.

"Zidania?" I sighed.

"Why are you here?" I asked Fatima.

"I came to check on you." She sounded hurt.

"You aren't supposed to be walking through that door right now, you're interrupting my meeting." I tried to keep the anger from my voice.

"Who're you supposed to be meeting with while in PJs and two days bed breath?" She asked and I knew there was a smirk on her face.

"Death, Fatima. Death doesn't judge. So if you'd please leave..." I stated.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was low.

"You should be. I've been waiting here bored as hell on death and you decided to show up." I huffed.

"I guess I'm sorry about that too." She said.

"I'm sorry for what happened before you.. before you passed out. I didn't mean any harm by it and I am really sorry for eavesdropping." She continued.

"I trusted you." I choked on my words.

"I know and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overhear but I came down for something to drink and I heard you use she pronouns instead of he when you're father asked for Kwashie." She explained.

"It's an inside joke.." the best lie I could come up with.

"You don't have to lie. Richard has already spoken to me about what I heard and he made me sign a non disclosure form and everything. I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to ruin this friendship." She was now in my room still standing by a now closed door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"What exactly?" Not wanting to give away anymore information than necessary.

"That you were sick..." she trailed off.

Wow, Richard went to blabber town while I was out cold, huh? Giving away our family secrets and my goddamn secrets too.

"Sick is relative, I'm just.. I just wasn't made properly, you know? My navel string was cut too early or something." I started getting angry at my lack of knowledge on my own situation.

"My dad.." She sighed.

"My dad is a touchy subject for me because I don't know him. My mom died and I had to attend her funeral in the first week of school, that's why I came late. She had only paid off my undergrad year before she died with the savings she had, it was a struggle to bury her so we had to cremate her against my aunt's complaints. I don't know how I'll survive after undergrad year, Zim. No plane ticket back home to my family, they're not even family but I guess it would be safer there than alone in a country where next year I would have no shelter, no food and can't make it to the next grade."

Her words hung heavy in the air between us and my lost of a vocabulary pounded heavily on my mind. I should say something.

"Do you want to lie with me?" I finally asked.

"I'd love that." She laughed while the tears continued to flow.

"Strip down, I don't like the outside world on my bed." I made my pet peeve clear.

"Stripping." I heard her zipper pull and watched her outline in the darkness pull her shirt over her head.

The space beside me dipped as I felt my covers lifting and the crisp cold air pinching my skin before Fatima got in beside me and brought the covers down around her. I sighed from the warmth of her body close to mine and the silky cover. I pulled my body closer to hers and rested my hand over her chest. I breathed in her choice of musky masculine cologne and wondered why she didn't go for something more subtle, like she was. Fatima wasn't perfect but she sure was beautiful. Cuddled into her side right now, I thought about the first time she approached me and I soaked up her features. She was slim and tall, her neck had no fat like mine had and her jawline was chiseled out. The first time Mama Ekuban saw her she swore that it was a reincarnation of Carter Jones' flesh and after I explained everything she immediately dragged Fatima away to the kitchen to force her to eat.

"You are too skinny, girl child. Where is the meat on your bones? If I should ever need to catch water I wouldn't use a pail if you are around, your collarbones are deep enough to hold a good amount of water."

I couldn't control my laughter that day, I laughed at the scene until my eyes watered and my knees buckled. I had the same passionate laughter when I reiterated the story to Kwashie and then to Richard, who went all tomato basket on me trying to catch his breath. I made sure to use the African accent as well for added effect and it sure hit the spot every time. I hummed at my memory as I fixed my jaw on Fatima's chest.

"I never thought I'd be cuddled against another stud like this." She broke the silence.

"I said I was queer." My voice came out unclear since my cheek was mushed on her chest.

"I guess..." she says that a lot.

"Can you tell me about the girl that looks like me?" She said.

"Well," I sighed.

"Her name was Carter Jones as I have said before." I started.

"I think it's just coincidental that we have the same last name, it's very common." She said after I had paused.

"It's not like it's a McGlashan or anything." I bragged.

"Okay, okay. Whatever, dawg." She explained that it was a term she learned in the states, I thought it was weird that I never heard it here.

"She has the same hazel, honeycomb eyes as you. They're like pure untouched honey and they were beautiful. She was lightskinned, you are lighter though and she had long natural hair that was a loose texture like yours but she preferred to wear it straight with a middle part. She was a stud too and she loved Nautica loafers and Tom Fords."

I remembered the encounter in this very room when I thought she had gotten the latest pair of Nautica without me. I smiled and decided to continue.

"She loved 100% cotton button downs and linen thigh length shorts. I preferred Tommy Hilfiger and she preferred Calvin Klein. Her features were soft and very feminine and I loved that about her. I guess that was why I was so attracted to her, the fact that she could maintain her femininity and be androgynous and identify as a stud. It's a common belief that studs are supposed to be macho manly but that's a load of horse shit if you ask me, like stop marginalizing us. Goddammit, I hate oppression."

"TO FREEDOM." Fatima whisper yelled.

I started laughing while the tears slipped from my tear glands without my permission. I felt her hand on my back softly moving back and forth trying to comfort me. Trying to comfort and shelter me from the death of my best friend and first love, it haunted me sometimes. The fact that she isn't here with me anymore and she was all I ever knew at one point. I felt a small pang of regret at times but never remorse, it was still lost on me.

The knowledge of her death was like a ten ton weight on my mind and I just wanted to share the information with someone, I needed to share the baggage.

I killed Carter Jones.

I killed Carter Jones.

I killed my best friend.

I killed my first love.

I loved her, I loved her so much I would much prefer her to be alive right now blowing up my phone and annoying the shit out of me. I wanted to feel something other than loss, I preferred to feel anger and annoyance minus the attempts at my beloved Kwashie's life. What have I done? Fatima Jones was like a memory booth that I was reluctantly sitting in and every time I saw her it was like I was reveling in the memories of Carter and even though I had the option to get up and leave, I sat down with my feet firmly pressed on the ground willing the memories to stop hurting.

"I miss her so much." I admitted.

"I'm so sorry you had to lose her like that." She comforted me.

"I..." I trailed off. What was I doing?

"Mhm?" Fatima urged me to go on.

"I.. I'm glad that you're here with me." I forced the words out trying to push the others at the back of my mind, I had to cage them away.

"I'm glad to be here with you." She sounded genuine.

"You remind me so much of her." I mumbled.

"I'm sorry to be causing you more pain, I don't mean to." She apologized for my pain.

"Would you like to meet her father? He's back in the island." I felt her stiffen under me.

"I'm not sure..." her words were dragged out.

"No pressure, I was going to look for him and I thought you'd like to come since you keep asking me to describe Carter." I tried explaining myself. I had a nack for mystery, my Nancy Drew senses were tingling and Richard being his one man Hardy Boys band, was digging into it as well.

"I'll let you know." She finally answered me.

I didn't reply. I just allowed my body to mesh with hers as we laid wrapped into each other's arm melting into the warmth.

"Thank you. Thank you for being here." I whispered.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now knowing that you needed me." Her voice was slightly sleepy.

I smiled at her words feeling her sports bra move with my jaw. I wasn't upset at Kwashie's absence anymore, she was busy and I guess I needed to understand and accept that. With Fatima, it felt like having my cake and eating it too and I didn't know how long that feeling was going to last before we all crashed and burned. It wasn't hard to love the human being wrapped in my arms right now as it wasn't hard to love her sister in questioning but I'll never love her as I loved Carter Jones. I'll never love anyone else like that.

**

Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. You have been the one, you have been the one for me.

#KeepingUpWithTheMcGlashans