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With a heavy sigh, Maria threw herself on the couch stranded in the middle of the room, which was so tiny it was almost claustrophobic. The busted springs in the couch pricked her back, and she grimaced uncomfortably, the near-pain of the rusted metal curls reminding her of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She waved the strange feeling away, throwing her head back and staring at the ceiling instead.
Recently, Maria noticed that whenever something 'reminded' her of anything from the past, she'd get a migraine and though she would like to say she didn't know why, that simply wasn't true. Thinking about those things—her past experiences—hurt like hell, not just in the physical sense, for rather obvious reasons, too.
After all, those experiences weren't hers. They were Mary's.
That didn't matter now, though. Mary was gone, and in her place, was Maria and there was no point in overthinking how exactly Maria came to be in this position. She didn't want to talk about it and neither did James, or at least that's what the woman had assumed given James' empty looks and general demeanor. Her lips curled into a pitiful smile just thinking about him and how much he reminded her of a sad puppy, almost completely lost. It was cute in a way, almost enough to distract from how distant he was.
Eventually, Maria hoped to help James get better, whatever that meant for him. She had to take care of him, repay him for getting her out of Silent Hill; the dreaded place where she was born and where her only purpose was to die. That wasn't her life anymore and while her new purpose still wasn't clear to her, in her eyes it was obvious that James had to be the centre of whatever this new chapter would mean for her.
The creaking sound of an old door ripped Maria away from her thoughts. Her head slowly came down and only now did she notice the striking pain in her strained neck. The person standing in the door was none other than James, of course. It was his house after all, although it might be a stretch to call this place a house.
In reality, it was a tiny apartment in the middle of nowhere, with a single bedroom, the tiniest kitchen, the sad living room the two of them were stranded in, and a bathroom, in which there were obvious signs of mould that neither of them would mention to their landlord. Sometimes Maria wondered if she ever did really escape the rotting and rusting of Silent Hill or if it continued to follow her.
James promised he'd soon find a better place. Maria clung to his word as if it was her last hope.
"Maria?" The monotone voice rang in the woman's ears, as she realised James had been talking to her this entire time, only to be met with silence and a lost look on Maria's face.
"Sorry, I spaced out," Maria mused, tilting her head to the side and sending a playful smirk James' way. Any time she spoke with that wreck of a man, and she meant this lovingly, she defaulted to her cheerful and playful self. Or was 'persona' a better word?
It didn't matter.
"Right... I said I wanted to talk to you," James repeated himself, seeming even more serious than he usually was.
In response, Maria did nothing but giggle. She was nervous, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were slowly starting to turn white. She could feel her nails forcing crescent-shaped indents into her skin. Still, she couldn't drop her careless facade, unsure whether she was keeping it up for James or for herself.
"About us."
Maria's heart dropped. What the hell did he mean by that? Was he going to leave her again? Abandon her like he did in Silent Hill?
James stood in the door, staring down at Maria, who was still sitting on the couch, her back now straightened. She couldn't help feeling small and suddenly hopeless, their positions reminding her of the moment she was stuck behind bars, confused on how she got there, numbing pain in her chest, only wanting James to touch her, to prove to him she was real and worthy of his struggles.
The woman felt as though her ribcage was collapsing, her heart relentlessly beating against the weak structure of her body, threatening to end her at that very moment. Suddenly, her eyesight became blurred, her lower lip trembling, and out of the corners of her eyes she could see the metal bars forming in a dividing wall between her and James. Could she prove herself this time? Did she have it in her?
"Maria, please," James said, with a look in his eyes that imitated bewilderment, despite the rest of his face remaining mostly unmoved by whatever sight Maria offered him at that moment. "Just hear me out."
"You can't leave me!" The woman was surprised by her own voice, raised in pleading confusion, and within a moment she was standing face to face with James, mere inches apart.
No longer were her fists tightened around themselves, instead entangling themselves in James' shirt. Desperation seeped from Maria's body like blood splattering on the walls those countless times she was violated by whatever nightmares terrorised the town she wished she could forget. She now wondered whether what James said, about wanting to move on with her, was true at all, or whether what he really meant was that he wanted to move on from her; whether all she was to him was just a disposable toy, a pretty face to fuck, a tool to take out emotions on, something so replaceable he couldn't even bother to let her live this comfortable lie just a while longer.
Unsure, the man in front of Maria tried saying something, his cracked lips parting, small noises coming from the back of his throat. However, before any words could form, Maria yelled out again.
"You're the best thing that's happened to me, James. You can't..."
With little force, but much certainty, James grabbed Maria's wrists and pulled her hands off his shirt, quick to respond.
"I'm the only thing that's happened to you."
Stunned silence followed.
The sad sound of a step back broke up the heaviness in the air and as Maria's arms dropped to her side, so did the tears she never realised formed in her eyes. She didn't know what to say and she wasn't sure there was any point in looking for arguments. James was right and no amount of denial would change that.
Maria simply didn't exist until James. She didn't have a life before him unless she was to count whatever little glimpses she'd get of Mary's life.
"I'm sorry." The weirdly sweet tone of voice caught Maria's attention. "I love you, Maria, but not in the way you need to be loved. And I just thought that..."
"What the fuck do you know about what I need? You didn't even know that what your wife needed was a little affection, not a goddamn pillow in her face," Maria interrupted, her eyebrows furrowing. Instantly, James' mouth flew shut and the woman could see his body tensing up, eyes suddenly glassy.
She knew exactly how hurtful her words were, that was the point, and yet her lips quivered with guilt. Why was she like that? The constant storm of emotions stirring in her head confused her, each mood change feeling like an out-of-body experience. Her mind ached and like a labyrinth, it took Maria on an endless journey, every turn causing yet another hysterical outbreak. She stared at James, her tears burning wet marks onto her skin like a river of flame.
"I thought you deserved to experience more things, more relationships," James continued, his voice still sweet.
The woman winced. How could he still be so kind after what she said?
"I want you to have a life of your own, too, not have it be dependent on me of all people."
Maria listened.
"It's not fair for me to... have so much control over you. I meant it when I said I love you but I can't provide what you need to be happy. You shouldn't have to be stuck with me, not when I'm still..." James trailed off but Maria knew what he meant.
Broken. He was still broken.
"I can help you, though," she pleaded.
"You have to help yourself first."
"But—"
"You matter, Maria. Your feelings matter. I've been selfish before, I thought you could replace... her. But you're your own person."
Was she, really?
"Okay," was all Maria said. It was all she needed to say.
Maybe she did matter. Maybe it was time to find herself, even though it terrified her.
A heavy sigh escaped James' mouth as he brushed a lonely strand of bleached hair out of Maria's face. They were never meant to be, not like that and that was okay. It was time for them to move on.