Blinding Lights

Raven The aqua-blue vase shattered against the wall with a force that should have echoed through my small apartment, but I couldn't hear it over the Sleep Token track pounding from my kitchen speakers. The crash, the tinkle of ceramic pieces raining down onto the hardwood floor-it was all a silent film playing out before my eyes. I watched the explosion as if it were happening in slow motion, a silent act of destruction as my body moved without my permission. Grief had taken over, wrapped its cloak around me so tightly it refused to let me think logically. I was trapped behind my own eyes, a helpless passenger in a body piloted by pain.

My hands found my hair again, fingers clawing through the bright red strands that had escaped from what used to be a neat bun. Now, it hung distorted and messy, chunks falling around my face from all the times I'd gripped my head, trying to stop the memories from flooding in. As if pulling at my scalp could somehow drag the pain out through my skull.

I wanted something to hurt just as much as my soul did. I wanted to be those millions of tiny shards of glass scattered across my floor-at least then something would finally happen. Maybe they would recycle the pieces, melt them down, and make something new? Something new out of me? That sounded like a dream.

I watched as I was shoved further into the back corner of my mind. All while grief piloted my limbs. Another object was grabbed–I couldn't even register what it was–and thrown against the wall with a force that made my oversized black t-shirt ripple. This time a hoarse, heartbreaking cry tore from my throat, the sound barely audible over the new track pounding from my kitchen speakers. The cry felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else, even though I could feel my vocal cords burning raw, as my hand reached out for another object to throw.

No one was here to hear that scream. No one to witness my destruction. No one to witness the tears that finally broke free, hot and stinging as they carved paths down my cheeks. No one to hear the sobs that followed, shaking my frame beneath the soft fabric of my old Cookie Monster pajama pants.

My knees buckled-finally, my body was my own again as it gave way. I crumpled to the hardwood floor, the cold wood shocking against my knees through the thin cotton of my pajamas. The amber-colored bottle I'd been holding dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, rolling away with a hollow sound across the floor. The song played out as the memory of sweet conversation lulled me into a slow, false sense of peace, my body finally still after the storm.

"Raven!" Someone was knocking on the front door. Not just someone-that was Lillianna. My best friend. Another knock. "Raven? Babes?"

I ignored her, still crumpled on the kitchen floor surrounded by glass and dried blood. Maybe she'd go away. Maybe-

The deadbolt turned, and then the doorknob. I looked at the two messes I had made. The glass scattered across the dining room was not even seven feet from where I sat in the kitchen. Then I looked at the red droplets on the floor that had dried an hour ago. I didn't have time to hide either, as Lillianna rushed through my front door with Allen and her service dog Eulcid crowding in behind her. The key I had given her for this exact emergency was left in the lock, the rest of her keyring left swinging in the door.

Her shoulder-length brown hair caught in the dim light as she quickly scanned my small apartment, taking in what I'd done. When her worried hazel eyes found me through her heart shaped glasses, she rushed across the living room and into the kitchen, carefully stepping around the broken ceramic.

"Raven?" She dropped to her knees beside me without hesitation, pulling me into her embrace. She folded herself down to pull me against her, cradling me against the kitchen cabinets. "God, Raven. I was so worried."

"He's gone, Lil," I whispered. I wanted to feel this moment, but the warmth I knew was there — I couldn't feel it, even as she hugged me tighter.

She pulled back, her hands moving to cup my face with the kind of grounding touch she'd learned helped bring me back to the present. Her hazel eyes looked over my face, cataloging the damage-the tear tracks, the exhaustion, the hollow look I couldn't hide. She wiped the tears from my eyes as she looked the rest of my body over, her gaze took in my disheveled red hair, my Cookie Monster pajama pants, the oversized black shirt. She said nothing about the makeshift bandage I had tied around my forearm earlier. She already knew. Her eyes found mine again and she smiled.

"I've brought sushi and hibachi from our favorite place." Lillianna's thumb brushed across my cheek, another grounding touch as she wiped away a fresh tear that fell down my cheek. "I've got something for you as well."

Behind her, Allen stood quietly in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, his frame filling the doorway. His dark hair was neat as always, and his small, well-groomed beard was perfectly trimmed. The concern on his face was unmistakable as he took in the scene, but he gave me space, understanding that Lillianna knew exactly what I needed. Eulcid, stood beside him.

Lillianna stood and held out her hand to me. "Come on. I've got you."

I slowly placed my hand in hers, her fingers warm and steady against mine, and allowed her to pull me from my slump against the cabinets. When I was standing, she gave me another hug, her arms wrapping around me with the kind of fierce protectiveness that had kept me anchored for years. She nodded when she pulled back, then grabbed my hand and led me the few steps from the kitchen, past the broken glass, and into the living room. Eulcid in tow.

She guided me to my couch, sitting me down in front of two to-go boxes and a pair of wooden chopsticks that Allen had already arranged on the coffee table. Allen settled into the recliner across from us, two boxes in his lap and a pair of chopsticks in his hand, concern still creasing his features as he watched me.

"We got your favorite." Allen gave a small smile then. "A gator roll and shrimp fried rice."

I looked at the boxes and nodded. "Thank you." I reached for the smaller box and opened it.  Before I could crack my chopsticks apart and dig in, another knock sounded from my front door. Eulcid dug into Lillianna, who now sat on the other recliner.

"Just grab the key from the pot, Zoe." Liam's voice carried through the door.

Lillianna was already up and moving toward the front door, opening it wide to welcome them in. Zoe stepped through first, her blonde hair catching the light as she carefully balanced a white bakery box I recognized from her favorite place downtown. Behind her, Liam ducked slightly through the doorframe, his ginger-colored hair styled in that perfectly messy that somehow always looked effortless, a cardboard tray of various coffee cups held steady in his hands.

"Where's the love of my life?" Liam asked theatrically, scanning the room with those dark eyes. When his gaze landed on me curled up on the couch, his entire face lit up.  "Rave, my beautiful love!"

The affection in his voice was so genuine, so purely Liam, that I felt a small crack in the wall of grief had built around me. This was just who he was -– dramatic, loving, completely unashamed of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Liam and Zoe made their way into the apartment. Lillianna closed and locked the door behind them, the sound of the deadbolt sliding home somehow comforting now that my chosen family was all here. They set their offerings on the already-crowded coffee table-Zoe placing her bakery box with gentle precision, Liam setting down the coffee tray.

Liam made his way around the coffee table with long strides, settling on my left side with a kind of graceful movement. Zoe approached more quietly, her warm smile soft and understanding as she sat on my right. She gave me a small, careful hug-not too tight,not too long.  She calmly smiled around the room at our gathered group.

"We picked you up some food too." Lillianna held out two piles of to-go boxes, one for Liam, the other for Zoe. "Yes, Zoe, I made sure they didn't make the rice with onions."

"My hero." Zoe laughed with genuine gratitude, her smile brightening as she took the stack held out to her. Liam accepted his stack with an exaggerated bow of his head and a theatrical hand-to-heart gesture that made Allen shake his head with a laugh.

The couch suddenly felt full in the best possible way, with Liam's long legs folding up beside me and Zoe's calming presence anchoring my other side. Even in my apartment's small living space, somehow there was room for all of us.

"Dig in, everyone!" Lillianna smiled. "Allen and I have news when we're done!"

At first, everything still felt muffled and distant. The chopsticks in my hand might as well have been made of air-I could see myself picking up pieces of sushi, could watch my mouth chewing, but it was like observing someone else's body go through the motions. Even the makeshift bandage around my forearm felt like nothing more than a slight pressure, no sting, no throb, just... there.

But then, gradually, like surfacing from deep water, I felt myself drawing closer to the front of my mind. My awareness of my surroundings slowly became stronger, sensations filtering back in.

The first thing I noticed was the music. Halfway through my sushi roll, I realized someone had turned my playlist down-it still played from the speaker on the kitchen counter, but it was no longer at the volume that had been pounding through my skull earlier. "Aqua Regia" now drifted quietly through the apartment instead of overwhelming it.

Then I became aware of movement around me. Liam had gotten up at some point-when had that happened?-and was distributing the coffee cups, his long frame moving gracefully around our small space as he made sure everyone had their preferred drink. I watched him place a cup beside my sushi box, the warmth from it barely registering against my still-numb fingertips.

Next came the sounds: the quiet click of chopsticks against containers, Allen's soft murmur of appreciation for his food, Zoe's small hum of contentment. These weren't just background noise anymore-they were real, present, tethering me back to this moment.

Finally, I could feel the couch beneath me, Liam's solid warmth when he settled back down on my left, Zoe's gentle presence on my right. The bandage on my arm began to register as more than just pressure-there was a slight sting now, a dull throb that wasn't quite pain but was definitely sen Even that felt like progress, like my body was slowly becoming mine again.

We ate and drank together, and for the first time in hours, I felt actually present for it. Their love, their simple presence, was pulling me back from that dark corner where grief had shoved me. I was still fragile, still swimming upstream against the current of loss, but I wasn't alone in that water anymore.

Lillianna set her half-empty fried rice container on the coffee table with deliberate care and cleared her throat. The gesture was so familiar. The quiet music from the kitchen speaker felt like it was holding its breath.

"I know it's a hard week for everyone." Her hazel eyes found mine first, then moved around the room. She smiled softly at me before continuing, her voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of excitement. "I've had a big opportunity land in my lap that may just be the boost we all need."

Allen quietly leaned forward from his spot in the recliner, and I watched as he pulled an envelope from his back pocket with the kind of careful precision. He then set it down on the edge of the coffee table between the takeout containers and coffee cups, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "The best boost."

"We're continuing our group's tradition this year." Lillianna's voice grew stronger, more animated. "We're going to ST's concert this Saturday."

The ripples of reaction spread outward all from my audible gasp. Zoe's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide with surprise and something that looked like hope. Liam straightened beside me.

"No way!" Zoe's exclamation broke the stunned silence, her voice pitched higher with excitement. "Lil, every show was sold out within fifteen minutes of them being posted. How?"

I felt my own breath catch in my chest — not from excitement. The thing we'd done together every year since 2017. We'd found Sleep Token when they first released their music back in 2015, we'd first discovered Sleep Token a few months later and fallen in love with their music as a group. But now...

"My boss's daughter happens to be engaged to the venue owner where the show is being held," Lillianna explained, her eyes bright with the satisfaction that came from pulling off something impossible. "He gave her eight tickets, and she called me to tell me she'd like to pass on five of them."

"Kairyn did this?" Zoe's voice had dropped to something softer, more wondering. A flush crept up her neck as she said the name, and I caught the way her fingers fidgeted with her napkin.

"She did," Lillianna confirmed, giving Zoe a small wink that made the flush deepen. "We'll be in the pit. Front and center."

"She's... amazing," Zoe said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "She has no idea what that means to me. That we can all go together again. I mean... I'm sorry."

The apology hung in the air, and I understood immediately what she was sorry for. For being excited. For momentarily forgetting that "all together" wasn't really all together anymore.

My breath caught as the full weight of it hit me. We would be  continuing our group tradition since 2015 – but this year we'd be a man short. And every year after. The thought crashed over me, pulling me back toward that dark place I'd just surfaced from.

Looking around the room, I could see the same realization dawning on everyone else's faces. Allen's smile faltered slightly. Liam's hands stilled where they'd been gesturing. Even Lillianna's excitement dimmed as the bittersweet reality settled over us all.

The silence stretched for a moment. Then Liam spoke, his voice slower and more thoughtful than I'd ever heard it, stripped of his usual theatrical flair. "He would want us to go." The words came out carefully. I felt the shift in his body as he processed his own statement, working through the complicated emotions of moving forward without someone who had been such an fundamental part of our group.

He wrapped his long arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer into his warmth, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. The gesture was so tender, it made my chest tighten with emotion.

"We've seen ST since the beginning," Liam continued, "Every single show since we discovered them together. And with the new album drop?" He paused, and I could feel him looking around the room at each of our faces. "He wouldn't want us to miss out, especially if the reason we don't go is because he's gone."

I cuddled deeper into Liam's hold, and for the first time since my friends had arrived, I was fully able to feel the warmth I knew was there. My awareness was completely back now, my body finally mine again, anchored by his solid presence and the love radiating from everyone in this small living room.

My eyes drifted down to the corded bracelet on my wrist, the one I never took off. It was made of glass beads in the colors I'd carefully chosen-orange for creativity, lavender for devotion, sage for wisdom. But it was the sterling silver charm that made it precious: filled with crushed opal and infused with cremation ash, the initials JIL engraved on the back in delicate script.

Looking around the room, I could see the others wearing theirs too. Liam's was visible on his wrist where his arm wrapped around me – his beads a mix of deep blues and silvers that somehow perfectly matched his personality. Zoe's peeked out from under her sleeve, warm earth tones. Allen's was simpler, black and gold beads. Lillianna's caught the light from across the room, rose gold and cream.

All different, designed specifically for each of us. But each one carried the same initials, the same precious contents, the same love.

"We should all wear our bracelets," I said softly, my voice still rough from earlier tears but steady now.

"I agree." Allen nodded from his spot in the recliner, his own hand unconsciously moving to touch the bracelet on his wrist. "He'd love that."

The room fell quiet again, but this time It was full of something else entirely — love, connection, the decision to keep going.

For the rest of the night, we settled into the familiar rhythm of group planning that had become second nature over the years. The coffee table became our command center, scattered with phones, napkins turned into makeshift notepads, and the remnants of our dinner.

As it turned out, Lillianna and Allen had already rearranged their schedules. That left Zoe, Liam, and me to figure out what would work for us. I shifted against Liam's side, grateful that for once my situation made things simpler. I checked my phone out of habit before remembering — no Saturday clients. The Hendersons and the Millers could wait. For once, my schedule was the easy part.

Zoe groaned in the middle of planning, running her hands through her reddish-brown hair. She'd have to sweet-talk Dr. Martinez into covering her Saturday appointments. “Good thing,” Zoe joked, “most pet emergencies don't schedule themselves around concert dates.”

By the time Zoe and I had sorted ourselves out, Liam had already gotten his shifts covered.

Lillianna was making notes in her phone as everyone spoke. "So we're looking at leaving Friday night or early Saturday morning. The show's about thirteen hours from here, so we'll need to factor in traffic and finding parking."

"We'll take my SUV," Allen offered. "Plenty of room, and I just had it detailed for once."

"Road trip snacks?" Zoe asked with a grin.

"Obviously," Liam said. "We can't possibly survive five hours without proper provisions. I'm thinking, gas station energy drinks and way too much candy."

The planning felt normal, comforting in its familiarity. There was something healing about falling back into these old patterns, these traditions that had bound us together for so many years.

After we had gone over the plan for Saturday, the atmosphere in the room shifted to something more purposeful. Lillianna reached for the speaker and turned the music up. Not as loud as it had been during my moment of weakness, but enough to provide a comfortable backdrop for what came next.

My friends moved into action with the kind of synchronized efficiency that spoke to how well they knew each other-and how many times they'd helped pick up the pieces of my life.

Liam rose from the couch and headed toward the kitchen, while Allen rose from the recliner with quiet determination. I watched them gather supplies-a broom, dustpan, paper towels-and begin the careful process of sweeping up the ceramic shards scattered across the dining room floor. It didn't escape my notice that they whispered quietly to each other as they worked, their voices too low for me to make out words but their concerned glances in my direction.

"Come on, you two," Lillianna said with quiet authority, standing and extending her hands toward Zoe and me. "Bathroom. Now."

As she pointed us toward the hallway that led to my bedroom and the bathroom beyond, I caught sight of her grabbing cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink. She was going to tackle the dried blood droplets I'd left on the floor.

"Zoe's task is to make sure you don't need actual medical attention," Lillianna explained as we walked down the short hallway. "And with her being a vet, she kind of knows what she's doing."

"Her words, not mine,”Zoe added with a self-deprecating smile, though I could see the professional concern already taking over her expression as she glanced at my wrapped arm.

The bathroom felt smaller with both of us in it, but Zoe moved with quiet confidence as she gestured for me to sit on the closed toilet lid. She pulled the small stool from beside the sink — the one I used when my energy was too low to stand while doing my hair — and positioned it in front of me.

"Let me see," she said softly, her hands gentle but sure as she began unwrapping the makeshift bandage I'd tied around my forearm earlier.

I watched her face as she worked, her professional training took over. Her movements were careful and deliberate, the same way I'd seen her work at the clinic. There was something comforting about being in such capable hands, even as shame burned hot in my chest.

"I don't want to die, Zoe," I whispered. My voice cracked. "I'm just so sick of the pain."

Zoe paused in her unwrapping, her warm eyes finding mine. She said nothing for a moment, just placed one hand over the memorial bracelet on my wrist — the only piece of jewelry I ever wore.

"I love you, Raven," she said, her voice steady and sure. "We all do. Share the pain, Raven. We too lost him. We're grieving with you."

She pulled the first aid kit she had assembled and left here from previous incidents out from under the sink, setting it on the bathroom cabinet with practiced efficiency. The fact that she'd prepared for this, that she'd thought ahead to what I might need, made my throat tighten.

Opening the kit, she dug through the supplies with the methodical approach of someone who'd done this before. She said nothing more, allowing me to sit with what she had just said, while she prepared to put me back together once again.

As Zoe went through the familiar motions of cleaning and rebandaging my arm. They were grieving too — but how could I share this pain that felt so enormous, so all-consuming?

"I'm sorry, Z." My voice came out small. "I don't know how to do that."

She worked quietly for several minutes, her hands steady as she assessed the damage. I went too deep again, because stitches were a part of her process, along with careful cleaning and fresh bandaging. Only when my arm was properly wrapped did she speak again, her voice soft but clear. "He once told me that us all being together healed him for just an instant."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I could almost hear his voice saying it, and could picture the moment when he might have shared it with Zoe. She stood and began cleaning up the medical supplies, giving me space to process what she'd revealed.

As she bent to place the first aid kit back under the sink, there was a gentle knock on the bathroom door. I looked over to see Liam's tall frame leaning against the doorway, his expression softer than usual. "Lil and Allen are about to head out."

"Okay," I said, getting up on slightly unsteady legs. As I passed through the doorway, I caught the look that passed between Liam and Zoe in the bathroom mirror.

Liam stayed in the bathroom as I made my way through my bedroom and back into the living room. The space looked different now-cleaner, more organized. The glass was gone from the dining room floor, and I could smell the faint scent of cleaning supplies where the blood had been. My friends had quietly erased the evidence of my earlier actions all while caring for me.

Lillianna stood in front of the refrigerator, carefully placing my leftover to-go boxes on a shelf. Allen was by the front door, pulling the trash bag closed.

"Liam said you're headed out?" I asked, my voice still rough but more present than it had been hours earlier.

Lillianna turned from the fridge, closing it with a soft click. Allen looked up from his task. Both of them gave me those gentle, sad smiles.

"I have an early shift in the morning," Lillianna explained, moving toward me with open arms. "Part of how I managed to rearrange my schedule for Saturday. We all know how I get with too little sleep."

We chuckled at that, as she wrapped me in her arms, and this hug was different from the earlier one when I'd been trapped in dissociation. This one was warm and real.

"I need you to call your therapist in the morning, Raven." Her voice was firm as she pulled back to look directly into my eyes. "Promise me."

"I'll call her," I promised, "I already sent her a text earlier. She'll probably call me before I get the chance tomorrow."

Lillianna kissed my cheek, then gave me another fierce hug. "I love you, Rave. I see you. Always."

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them back. She had always been like that-able to see through every wall I built, every mask I wore. She had always seen the real me and never once judged what she found there.

"I love you, Lil."

Allen stepped forward next. He wrapped his arms around me, and had to bend to kiss the crown of my head, the gesture paternal and protective.

"We will always come, Raven," he said simply, and I knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

I watched them gather their remaining things, noting how Allen tried to take the trash bag but Liam intercepted it, insisting he'd handle it. With small waves and promises to text when they got home safely, they were gone, leaving the apartment quieter but somehow less empty than it had been before they arrived.

Zoe lingered a moment longer, double-checking that my arm was securely wrapped, her professional concern warring with something personal.

"Take care of yourself," she said softly, giving me one last gentle hug. "And let us take care of you too."

That left just Liam and me.

Liam settled onto the couch with his phone, typing quickly. I could still see traces of worry in the set of his shoulders. When his fingers finally stopped moving, he set his phone on the coffee table and looked up at me with that familiar half-smile that never quite hid his deeper emotions.

"I'm crashing for the night," he announced. "Just texted Malcolm to let him know I won't be home."

I nodded, grateful. "Thank you."

"Raven?" His voice carried a mix of emotions, but the concern was written clearly across his features. "I'm worried, my love."

I leaned up against the bar, resting my elbows there and resting my chin in my hands. "I know." I stared down at my sock-covered feet, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm still learning how to breathe. I'm still... learning how to live."

The silence stretched between us. When Liam spoke again, his voice was harder than I'd ever heard it, stripped of all his usual warmth.

"I hate him for this." The words came out so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that I snapped my head up to stare at him. His face now held a troubled, angry intensity. His eyes were hard and cold in a way that seemed foreign on his features. "I get it. His head was fucked up, but dammit, it's not fair to the rest of us."

"He just wanted the pain to stop." I felt a tear escape and trace its way down my cheek. "I understand that feeling."

Liam was up and moving fast. Once in front of me, his hands find my shoulders. "Raven, it doesn't stop the pain. Look at us." His eyes were glossy with unshed tears as one hand drifted down to lightly graze my freshly wrapped arm. "Look what it's done to you."

The accusation in his words hit me. "He's not the reason," I said anger flaring hot in my chest. "If you remember correctly, I've had this problem since before Lillianna and I even met you all."

How dare he suggest that our friend's death was the reason I'd hurt myself. It wasn't. It had never been about anyone else's choices. This was my burden, my broken coping mechanism, my responsibility alone.

"He has never once influenced me to do anything," I snapped.

Liam sighed heavily and dropped his head, the hand that still rested on my shoulder squeezed gently, apologetically.

"Raven, you were three years clean before his passing. Three years." His voice was quieter now. "You need to look at the impact this has had. I worry about you. I don't want to lose you too."

The truth of his words settled over me. Three years. I had been three years free of this destructive pattern, and now...

"I..." I took a deep breath, trying to find words that would reassure him, reassure myself. "I'm not going anywhere."