Finding Comfort... on Labyrinth Gardens

Chloe Jareau and Arnold Manger

December 08, 2015 8:24 PM

Finding Comfort... by Chloe Jareau and Arnold Manger

OOC: Cowritten by both authors. BIC:

It was late October when Chloe received not one, but two letters in the mail that morning while eating breakfast with her jumbled group of friends. The first one she easily recognized her father’s handwriting, but the second one, she only knew who it was from because of the stamp that sealed the letter shut. It was from the Pembrokes. Chloe’s heart sank. She hadn’t heard from them since her mother went nuts over the summer. They had apologized for her behavior and had put her under house arrest while she went through detox or something.

Whatever light that was present in her went out like a blink of the eye. Looking up from the letters to see if anyone noticed, she accidentally caught Arnold’s eye (she had been trying very hard this past month to not be around him, especially with Ji-Eun nearby), but she quickly looked away. Not wanting to read the letters in front of anyone, Chloe excused herself from the hall and made her way out to her favorite bench in the Gardens.

Chloe held the letters in her hand, deciding which one to read first. She eventually decided to read her father’s because his was likely just going to summarize whatever it was in the Pembroke letter. Ripping open the letter, Chloe scanned it, catching words as she went along. The drift of it was enough to make her grow cold and numb.

Lottie passed away yesterday.

One line read, Chloe bit her lower lip.

They believe it was from an intentional drug overdose.

Oh God. Intentional?

I’ll be there tomorrow to pick you up for the funeral, if you want to go.

She thought all the air was being sucked away from her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t feel anything. What was wrong with her?

Chloe heard a noise nearby and turned her head to see a familiar redhead appear. At the sight of him, tears that she hadn’t even been aware of began to fall. All the emotions hit her at once. “She’s dead.” Chloe exclaimed, her voice tight as she tried to hold back.

She didn’t say who. She didn’t have to. Arnold knew in an instant that it had to be her mother, a woman who, by all accounts he had heard thus far, was a complicated woman at best. Chloe had a complex relationship with her to say the least--not totally dissimilar to the complex relationship he had with his father--but to have her stripped from the earth unexpectedly was an agony he could only imagine.

It was the type of sweeping empathy that led to movement he wasn’t conscious of making. Arnold had been approaching from the side, but suddenly, he was behind her, with compassionate hands landing gently on her shoulders, leaning over one. Quick reflexes served him well. “I’m really sorry, Chloe,” he said gently. “Is there… anything I can do for you?”

She felt his hands on her shoulders. Such an innocent gesture would have normally sent Chloe’s heart a flutter, but not today. Today she barely registered the fact that they were Arnold’s hands. His voice was close to her ear, but his question (said with concern) only caused her more agony. “It’s my fault.” She quietly said as the realization of what she had just read hit her full force. “It’s all my fault!” She said louder before falling into a fit of sobs, her hands coming up to block her face. She had cried this hard only a couple months prior and she had never wanted to do it again. But here she was and right in front of Arnold.

“She said that she needed me to get help, that only I could save her.” Chloe choked out between sobs. “But I told her to go away and now she’s dead. She killed herself because of me!” Chloe admitted. “It’s my fault.”

Something about standing over a girl while she cried was making Arnold’s stomach uneasy, so he abandoned his position to sit beside her instead, one hand resting lightly on her knee. “Chloe, I need you to listen very closely to me, okay?” he stated with a surprisingly plausible mix of compassion and firmness. “It is not your fault. You were not the only way she could have gotten help, and to even insinuate that, let alone say it, was putting way too much pressure on you. This is one hundred percent about her and not in any way your responsibility. She had no right to do that to you.”

“She asked for my help and I pushed her away!” Chloe said from behind her hands. She could feel his hand on her knee and under different circumstances she might have allowed herself a moment to enjoy the touch, but at the moment, she would have rather had a hug than a reassuring hand. “I told her that I didn’t want to see her anymore. My parents put up wards to keep her out.” Chloe wiped her face and looked over at Arnold. “We could have helped her. We could have done something, anything, to save her.” She started crying again and shifted slightly so that she could rest her head on his shoulder for comfort.

Sometimes when Arnold spoke to Chloe about these serious, often parent-related issues, he could swear his mother was there, speaking through him. Not that he repeated her words, but most of what he had to help with seemed like something she would tell him. Maybe it was because he respected her so greatly and in times of trouble wondered what she would do, since she was such a strong woman. And maybe, just maybe, it was because often times, it was what he too needed to hear. Today was no exception. “Some people just... can’t be saved,” said Arnold glumly. “I don’t think anything you could have done would really have saved her. Some people are going to pick their vices over their loved ones. I think she needed to save herself a little first… if that makes sense,” he added almost as an afterthought.

“I know. I know.” She said through her tears, sniffling and hiccuping from crying so hard. Her face must look so blotchy from crying and her eyes had to look swollen. Chloe hated being any other emotion except for happy (even a fake happy) because any other emotion made her ugly. “But I should have done something. Even if I couldn’t save her, I should have tried because she needed it. Because she’s my mother. She… she failed me so many times these last couple of years and I never wanted to do that to a person, but I did. I did it to her. I failed her when she needed me.” Chloe tried to stop herself from crying again, but it only ended up with her rubbing her eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

“Maybe you could’ve tried,” Arnold conceded, “but you had to do what was best for you at the time. You shouldn’t have to set aside your own happiness and security for somebody else like that. And you can’t change it now, so even though it hurts right now, try not to let it bring you down too much, okay? You’ve got a lot of people who love you, Chloe. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Chloe nodded, “I know.” She said, sounding pathetic to her own ears. She had a large support systems, both in her family and with her friends (even with it being so complicated this term). She knew that they would be there for her if she asked them too. “My Dad will be here tomorrow to take me home for the funeral. I just wish things had been different.” That thought could have been for many things in her life, including her relationship with the person beside her now. “Thank you.” She said, looking up at him. “For, you know, dealing with me. Will you stay with me a little while longer?” She asked. “I… don’t want to be alone just yet.”

“Yeah, of course,” he answered with a hint of a smile. Going home tomorrow would be good for her, he thought. And after the funeral, when she had some closure, maybe things would be okay again.

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