Numb

The house is silent
One sound still exists in my range of hearing
Not as good as it used to be
A clock ticks not far away
I sit at the dining table
Motionless

I am...
What's the word?
Alone
My surroundings seem...
Depressing
I feel...
I feel...
I still haven't found the word I seek

I glance at my long since cold coffee
I made it
But I didn't drink it
Barely even touched it

I haven't even bothered to eat breakfast
Even though my stomach aches with hunger
It seems as though I haven't eaten in...
Days?
Weeks?
I'm not even going to say the M word
I knew I wouldn't still be here if it had been that long

I feel as though
I am wasting away
I don't mind
Or notice

I am unnaturally thin
Skinniness was goal which I once longed to seek
But now I hate myself for
If I pull up my shirt
I see ribs
I can see outlines of bones in my fingers
I wonder if it is because of age

Age, age...
How old am I?
Let me think...
I was guessing in my
60's?
70's?
Couldn't tell by my hair
It was naturally white
After he died
I stopped keeping track of years

Him
His name
I couldn't say it
I refused to
But I did today
"Lance..." I muttered
My first time saying it in months
I felt nothing after the word spilled out

I was used to spontaneous crying when I said it
I used to say it in my sleep
Cry in my sleep
Alone in a bed made for two
Bodies
But now I felt nothing
Just...
Empty

I glance across the room
To the coat hanger
His jacket hanging on a peg
A lone peg
I push myself to my feet
My first movement in hours
And I walk to the hanger

I pick up his jacket
I smell it
Drink in his long forgotten scent
Of smoke and a smell I never named
That was no longer on his pillow
I rifle through the pockets
I feel something in the left one
I pull it out
My heart stops as I stare at the box
Cigarettes

The jacket falls to the floor
I don't react
I stare at the pack and remember
"These are what killed him..." I tell myself
I now long to feel something
Anything
Some forgotten emotion
That will tell me I still love him
Even though he's not here
I still feel nothing

I sigh forlornly and run my bony fingers through my hair
I feel knots in my strands
I now try to remember
When last I combed it
Or the last time I showered
Bathed
My hair is longer than it used to be
Almost to my shoulders
Untrimmed and untamed

I gather up the coat and even the cigarettes
I creep upstairs
(Almost never using my powers
I feel too old to do so
I'm not even sure if they work anymore)
Abandoning my coffee completely
I feel the need to sleep once more
'Depressed? Tired?' I try in my head
I still look for a word to describe my mood
Both words fit
But they are not what I am looking for

I let my eyes look at the family pictures that litter the wall
Once so familiar
Now feeling like I'm seeing them
For the first time
Pictures of my children
Roic, Jared, Molly, Peter
Behind the glass and frames
They all seem so happy in the photos
In different events I can't even try to remember
They once brought a grin to my face
I don't even smile

I reach the top of the stairway and the final picture
THE picture
Our family picture
Consisting of the kids
Me and him
("Lance." I mutter again and touch the glass
I clutch his jacket closer
I still feel nothing)
And Leah

She was always there
Being the aunt my sister never was
We always included her in family things
Trips, pictures, ect
One of the kids (Molly?) had called her "Auntie Leah"
From that day on
I let them

I hadn't seen my children since the funeral
They were grown up
Had their own lives
(Yet still no grandchildren)
Every now and then
One of them would call
We'd talk for hours at a time
That was all I had a phone for
I knew they worried
I could hear it in their voices
When we talked
If we talked

Leah sometimes visited
She also called frequently
She worried too
I called her to keep her from coming over
From seeing how worn I had become
How tired I didn't let on to be
How big the house had become with just one person
Living there

Bernie was the only one
He'd called me a few times after the funeral
Then I lost contact with him
And his family
Bernie was always "his" friend
I remember the countless play dates
Times I had arranged for Jasmine to come over
She was a bit older than our kids
But no one minded

I walked into the bedroom
Molly's room
I'd wished I had more pictures of it
When she was little
It had changed so much as she grew older
As her tastes changed
Only one thing remains the same
Her walls are still pink
The same pink from when we had painted
Her nursery
Now chipping in certain places
Dust covers her furniture and twin bed

I don't need to look in the boys rooms to remember
I know it by heart
(Been in there enough)
The twins room has  blue and red striped wall paper
(They had fought over the colors
Blue and red
They compromised)
A bunk bed stands against the wall
They had used it from age 6 until the day they moved out
That is all that is in the room

Unlike Molly
They had taken everything else with them
I don't like to go in their room anymore
It fells empty and sad

'Empty?' I try
Another word that fits
But still not the one I'm thinking of
It's on the tip of my tongue now...

I walk into Peter's room and sit down
My favorite room in the house
It used to be my own room
But now I don't feel at home there
Peter was our happiest boy child
(Our last child
I couldn't have any more)
And being in his room made me smile
Not today

His room is painted a teal color
(Repainted)
The original color was a pale yellow
All of his furniture is white wood
Dots of yellow and green
Here and there
His furniture remains
Undusted

I realize suddenly how much I miss them
My babies
My children
How much I long to hear someone call me
"Papa"
And not in their mature adult voices
In their squeaky high-pitched childish whines
They were my kids after all
They came out of me

I wrap his coat around me and inhale my love's scent again
"Lance." I say his name one last time
In a last desperate attempt to feel something
Anything
After all this time
I still feel
Nothing

I leave the beloved room of my child
And stalk towards my own hated one
I arrive in the room that was once "his" as well
I collapse on the mattress and pull the coat even closer
Thoughts of Lance's death swim through my mind
I now am able to think of his name
And no emotions bother me

I guess I can tell you now
He died from lung cancer
From smoking
If you must know
Two years ago
It was a relapse
A third and final
Relapse
The chemo didn't work

It ended his life
And part of mine
Chopping my heart in half
One half dying along with him
I slipped into an everlasting depression
I guess it goes to show you
That even those with superpowers
Are vulnerable to average human illnesses
I guess no one is immortal

All of the sudden
The word I have been looking for
Pops into my head
I am...

Numb

The word echoes in my head
It's the exact word I was looking for
"Numb" I whisper the word aloud
It fits
Too perfectly

I walk back into the hallway
I stare at the pictures once more
Mostly the family photo
Our expressions
We seem so happy
I feel angry with the photo for some unknown reason
I suddenly wish to break the frame
Tear the picture to shreds
Punish myself for being so happy
Earlier in life

Finally feeling something
Sadness
I begin to sob
Tears stream down my aged wrinkled face
I let my aching body slide to the floor
I wrap my arms around my legs
And curl up as small as my body will allow

I suddenly think of a song
It fits my situation perfectly
I quietly sing the depressing lyrics aloud

"A chair is still a chair
Even when there's
no one sitting there.
But a chair is not a house,
and a house is not a home,
when there's no one there
to hold you tight,
and no one there
you can kiss goodnight."

I begin to fall asleep
From exhaustion
And loneliness
On the floor
I don't move from my position
At least I no longer feel

Numb