Julie Ch. 06

"It is official; I am insane." It had been more than forty-eight hours and no sleep. But Julie couldn't help but smirk. A peculiar theme in the drawings placed nearest her bed had struck her. Dark eyes with a tinge of Heaven and Hell watched over her framed by long masculine hair. "Insanity – I'd have to be insane after all this. Besides the fact that I'm talking to sketches…" It felt better to be talking to the rough drawings than herself suddenly. "At least you're not Jesus. And you're not talking back."

She hadn't missed Michael so badly since she left New York. He would hold her close in the night and find her pills with such care – or it had been with that loving manner for a while. She couldn't recall just when the affection dissipated and turned into a chore. But she forgave him for that part of their relationship. You can only be awoken so many times by screams ere you begin to despise some aspect of the trouble.

And there were other things to hate him for.

Instead of trying to sleep now, she drew, no longer limiting herself to mere sketches. She drew anything that wandered into her mind, sometimes not even having an idea. Her hand thrashed about the pages with its own agenda, forming confusing images which Julie taped all over the walls of her bedroom. The small room, formerly with just a pile of clothes and a bed, now seemed lived in. The images were plastered all over like she once had done in college. Somehow it felt right.

The upstairs kid was blasting music. She spoke to no one in general: "Luckily I'm not trying to sleep now, else I'd be pissed." The volume got louder and Julie could almost see the floor vibrating in sympathy. Usually this didn't happen until nine or so.

A glance later, Julie realized it was nearly ten. "Shit, I got to get to work." She sifted through the pile of clothes by the closet and pulled out the cleanest uniform.

Quickly showering, changing, and attempting to get rid of the charcoal remnants on her hands and face flew by in her hurry. But as she pulled on her shoes, Julie found herself lost in the pictures sloppily taped on the opposite wall.

She smirked once more at the wall before she sped off to work.

***

The lunch rush was on and Julie's strength was flagging. Officially one, it was time for Matthew's bi-weekly visit and Julie tried to wrap up her fear in preparation. She nodded to Franky at the counter while taking their food to a booth, silently letting the owner know her break had begun.

Like clockwork, Matthew rolled into the shinny diner with a suave wink at Franky just before he bee-lined for his sister. One look, though, told him to drop his charm and be the caretaker.

"Julia Rachel Barton, you haven't taken your medication."

She rolled her eyes. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yeah, I'd say so. How long haven't you …"

"Since Michael."

Matthew saw, staring at his sister in disbelief. "Please tell me you are punishing yourself because of that asshole. No one deserves – that – when they sleep."

"Oh Matty," she sighed. "I hate the pills and how they make me feel. When I left, I'd been taking them non-stop since the winter. They make me so numb." Julie took a napkin and cleaned an imaginary stain on the table. "So I have a system. I work until I drop – no nightmares."

"Looks like your system isn't working." Not able to help himself, Matthew stated what must have happened. "Michael made you take the pills." Her nod was barely perceivable and his heat creeping through his mind was off-set by his calm tone. "He also convinced you to drop out of art school, didn't he?"

Her eyes strayed from his, refusing to answer. "I'm no great artist, Matthew. That's why I dropped out."

"Don't think I'm completely clueless." Matt shook his head. "Call it brotherly intuition. There's more you're not telling me." Against his will, the anger rose in his voice. "If I ever see that prick again, I'm going to kill him."

For the first time in two days Julie smiled. "You wouldn't. But thank you for saying it." She looked down at the food before them; turkey club for her and a tuna melt for him. Marble had convinced Matthew to try one a few weeks back mentioning how it was the sole reason his wife still keeps him around. Now he wouldn't accept anything else. "Eat up, or you might insult the chef."

Her break was over all too soon, but Matthew remained talking about anything normal. The important topics could wait a little longer until Julie was ready. Or when she doesn't look like a defenseless scrawny kitten. The fact that Julie's fingers were discolored with charcoal dust gave him hope enough to stay quiet.

***

"Now just stay there, nice and still."

It seemed like easy enough but Franky was finding it hard to be stationary. "Whose hair-brained idea was it to have me holding up a tray of food?"

"Yours."

"I'll leave it to the professionals next time then."

A small chuckle escaped Julie as she sketched Franky's form. "That's right."

"Less talk, more drawing. Means less time for me to hold this damn thing up." Franky could swear she heard something in her back crack from the strain of the past minute.

Julie got the basic structure down and removed the tray from her employer's hand. "Keep your hand up around where you had the tray and we'll be golden."

"Much better." Somehow with her arm up in the air and nothing to do but count the seconds, the pain started returning. Instead of counting the minutes, Franky struck up conversation. "So how long do these things generally take?"

"Depends on the model," Julie answered distractedly.

"Why was Mike looking at you like you might break?"

"Don't know."

"Didn't think you'd evade that one," Franky murmured.

"Your sarcasm has been duly noted for the record." Julie heard a little sigh from her subject and felt the need to explain. "I get bad dreams sometimes. It's a medical condition really. Apocalyptic nightmares or staying up late isn't much of a choice right now."

With a dissecting gaze, Julie looked for some kind of adverse reaction from Franky but found a worn-down countenance of acceptance and support. "Stay like that."

Julie's arm moved frantically around the page, keeping her eyes trained on her model.

In no time at all, Julie stopped. "I'll have it done in the next few days."

"Alright. Why don't you go home now and see if you can get some sleep?"

"But I've got another four hours left –"

In the blink of an eye, Franky was pushing Julie toward the door and her jacket. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to argue with your boss?"

Soon enough, at home and abed, Julie understood the wisdom her new favorite mother hen. She slept through the rest of the afternoon on into the evening peacefully.