Back in the year 2000, Liddy made me promise to cremate her.  

'I'm terrified of fire.  It will serve me right.  I'm an idiot, Stevie-Darling.  I deserve to go out petrified.'

Liddy said it ran in the family.  'Just like red hair, loud voices and being able to touch our noses with our tongues.  Being scared of fire is just part of our programing.  Someone lights a candle and every Williams in the room goes wide-eyed and sweaty.  Its good to know you're related to your family, you know?  No one can accuse the milkman of anything.'

I wondered if hatred of one's own body was a family trait, passed down through the generations.  I didn't ask.  

That day in the hospital I protested:

'Everybody dies, Liddy.  You can't punish yourself for coming to the end of your life.  It is natural.  Set a time limit.  If I die before 2000 and blah blah cremate me.'

'Fine.'   Liddy considered for a moment.  I bit the inside of my cheek – a nervous habit – and waited to see what estimated time of departure my best friend would grant herself.

'Five years.  If I die within the next five years, I deserve it.'  

Five years didn't seem like long.  She must have seen my expression.

'If I can last five years, I can last fifty, Stevie-Darling.'

Liddy left the hospital a week later.  She returned to work for a short time but it didn't last.  Eleven months and she was back in that antiseptic room.  

'I can't seemed to straighten things out, Stevie.'  She said apologetically when I came to visit.  'I cover my mouth when I walk through a food court in case I breath in calories.  I congratulate myself when I can stick my fingers up under my rib cage.  There is a big part of my brain which knows this is sick and horrific and that part is yelling 'snap out of it, Liddy!' but it can't seem to be heard by the rest of my head.  I think of food and I feel guilty.  I'm trying, Stevie, I really am.'

'Well try harder!' I said and walked out.  

Liddy's body was covered in a fine downy hair and her skin sagged.  I remember her brother having to to lift her into a wheel chair.  Her body would not even do that for her.   

I thought about cremation and decided I was scared of fire also.  

Liddy was in hospital for almost twelve months that time but she did get out and stayed out for nearly three years.

'What must you think of me?'  She croaked to me from amid the sheets the first night back.  I held her hand and told her that I thought she was an idiot.  

'I love you but you're an idiot.  I don't know what I'd do without you but things would probably be a lot easier.'

She shut her eyes.  She seemed to be made of glass.  It was as if her skin was fading away.  I could see the blood flowing just beneath the surface, the organs, dried and heaving, the bones and the mattress beneath her.

'Does the light hurt?'

'A little, yes.'

'Good.'  But I turned them off just the same.

We were silent a while.  

'Stevie?'

'Yes?'

'Was I always an idiot?'

'No.'  I swallowed.  My throat felt like bark.  'You were smart.  I used to get drunk and brag about you at the uni bar every Thursday.'  I imitated my drunken gushing tone. 'And she's SOOO beautiful!  She's beau-ti-ful, I tell ya!  More beautiful than anyone in this stupid place.  And she kicks my arse in lit. and all the histories and she's so Goddamn smug about it!  She fuckin' knows she's beat me before I even show her my marks!'   

Liddy laughed and swore.   

'It hurts to laugh.  That's a sure sign I've fucked up, Stevie-Darling.  Laughing is meant to be the easiest, most natural thing and I've made it torture.'

I lent over her and studied her faded face.  She was exhausted.  Just being in this world was wearing her out.  'Stupid!'  I think.

'Liddy?'

'Mmm?'

'Stay here.  I fucking love this planet.  You haven't been outside in a while but its gorgeous out there.  Its Autumn.  If you stand in Central Park and half shut your eyes its like looking through a kaleidoscope, the colours are that intense. The wind is just a bit too cold.  It bites into your face and reminds you of all the joints in your fingers and toes you'd forgotten you owned.  I love that.  I love wearing scarves.  I love putting them on, wrapping them 'round and 'round, until I can disappear into them like a tortoise.  I love puddings and puddles and big boots and seeing stupid women in stupid clothes suffer in the chill.  Its worth seeing.  Please stick around.'

She squeezed my hand lightly.

Liddy didn't make it to five years.  Almost but not quite.  I didn't cremate her.  I knew she tried and I just couldn't live with being the one to put her through that.  Besides, her entire family would have been too scared to come to the funeral.  

'I'm a fucking idiot, Stevie-Darling.'  She told me on the last day, eyes fixed on the ceiling, begging its forgiveness.

I kissed her.   'You are amazing, Liddy.  I'll remember that.'

She faded into the mattress and disappeared.