Chapter 21
Back to the Beginning
Moments passed as I stared at the metal railing barring me from my fate. I felt nothing inside of me but conviction, a cold resolve that everything would be better after I went through with this. I'd be truly reunited with my friends. Sawyer would be freed from her mothering need to take care of me. Free to find a satisfying relationship with someone who could love her the way she deserved to be loved; I hoped, whoever he was, he fully appreciated the amazing woman in his arms. And my mother could live out her years with Sheriff Whitney. . . Neil. With their secret already out, they could be more open with each other. And without me around to worry about and stress over, she could fully and completely love him. It made me smile that my mom wouldn't be alone.
I revved the engine a few times as rain splattered on the empty stretch of roadway, soaking it. No one had passed me or come up behind me as I sat, stopped, in the middle of my lane. It was still early in the morning and this road was little traveled anyway. The familiar, soothing scent of lemons washed over me and I inhaled deep, glad that this calming scent would be the last thing I took with me. The wipers swished noisily back and forth and I tore my eyes from the guard rail to watch their rapid movement, taking in every minute detail of my last moments on Earth.
I wasn't worried about the pain. I would take whatever I had to take, to get my end result. Whatever mortal pain was necessary to transfer from this state to the next. Any physical pain could hardly compare to my months of emotional pain anyway. What were shattered bones and bleeding cuts compared to your heart being torn and shredded into thousands of pieces? Nothing. . . absolutely nothing.
A song on one of Sawyer's chick rock CDs (that I actually secretly liked) came on, and I turned it up. Ironically, it was a song about surviving a suicide attempt. I didn't like to think that what I was doing was suicide - I was merely fixing a mistake, but I suppose that's not what my official death record would say. The town would run rampant with rumors of how I'd driven off and dramatically taken my own life.
I sighed and hoped my mom wouldn't have to hear too much about it, that people would be kind to her over her loss. Maybe she and the sheriff could move away once his wife passed on from her illness. They could heal each other. I smiled wider as I pictured the great life they could have together.
As the haunting, but beautiful, lyrics drifted through my brain, I turned my attention back to the guard rail. I blinked, startled, when I noticed a car there that hadn't been there before. A car that I knew very well. A car that was currently blocking the predetermined path of my demise. I blinked again, not understanding what my mother's station wagon was doing parked in front of my bulls-eye. How had she found me so fast?
Then the station wagon door opened and a figure stepped out into the rain. I immediately understood how I'd been found, as I watched Sawyer shut the door, her clothes and hair drenched from the downpour. Sawyer and I nearly had the same mind at times, and if anyone could guess correctly where I'd go to end my life, it'd be her.
I should have realized that earlier and not spent so much precious time ruminating. I should have pieced it together that that Safe and Sound club had probably been out here, on more than one occasion, to maintain the shrine that was sort of their reason for being. Even though Sawyer and I had never talked about this spot, of course she'd know exactly where it was.
She stood in front of the car door defiantly, arms over her chest, and I clearly understood the message, even from this distance - 'you want this, you'll have to go through me to get it. ' I revved the engine, hoping she would move. She didn't, she didn't even flinch. I did it again, letting the car surge forward a few feet. Nothing. She didn't even react. Well, maybe she did lift her chin higher. She wasn't going to budge on this.
I cursed and slammed my hand on the wheel. She was ruining everything! She'd never let me down before, why was she doing it now? I glanced at her corsage still hanging from the rearview mirror. Where before, I'd seen the broken petals as symbolic of our horrid night at the dance, now they seemed to mock my desperation. Gritting my jaw, committing myself to the action, I revved the car and slammed on the gas. I hated to take her with me, but I had to do this, I couldn't stop myself.
The car propelled forward, the rain smacking the windshield forcefully. She still didn't move. I was going to plow right into her. I imagined the car slicing her in two and tears stung my eyes. I imagined the life leaving her body and I felt a sob rise. The haunting lyrics of living through the pain played on through the car's speakers, searing me. The pleasing scent of lemons always present in Sawyer's car, choked me. I loved her. . . I couldn't kill her.
I knew to not slam on the brakes in this downpour, so I gently eased them down, the car slowly responding. I was still going too fast to stop in time from hitting her though, so I turned the wheel, heading for the edge of the road. The car hit the gravel and I jerked the brakes down, spinning a bit on the loose rocks, but stopping without sliding.
My heart racing at what I'd nearly committed to doing, I cursed loudly and slammed my hand against the wheel repeatedly again. I looked out the window at Sawyer on the other side of the street, still standing in front of my mother's car, watching me. Her eyes were wide and she was ghastly pale, shaking near uncontrollably. She'd thought I wasn't going to stop. And she still hadn't been going to move. If I was going. . . she was going.
I jerked open my door, angry that she'd throw her life away for me, and slammed it shut behind me. She straightened at my approach, dropping her hands to her sides, fists clenched for a fight. I shook my head as I walked right up to her, the rain drenching me, running down my face.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at me, the gray depths matching the stormy clouds above. "What am I doing?" She thrust a finger into my chest. "What the hell are you doing?"
I irritably batted her finger away, frustration rising in me. I needed to do this. I needed to do it now. . . while I could. "Get out of the way, Sawyer!"
She crossed her hands over her chest again, thrusting her chin out at me. "No! This is insane, Lucas! I'm not just going to let you do this!"
I threw my hands into my wet hair, feeling like I wanted to yank it out of my scalp in my irritation. She was messing up everything! And I'd been so close. "Ahhh! It's already done!" I jerked my hand over to the railing, indicating the ravine where my dead body should already be lying. "This is what was supposed to happen. I'm just fixing an error!"
She shoved her hands into my chest, knocking me back a step. Her face got right into mine, fiery and frightened. "Fixing an error? You lived for a reason, Lucas!"
I threw my hands out to the sides, water droplets flying from my hands and smashing into the droplets falling from the sky. The violence in the air around me only added to my conviction - today was a day for destruction. "No! There is no reason!" None to stay alive, that is, I had plenty of reasons to stop.
Sawyer, her face paler than I'd ever seen, stepped forward and grabbed my cheeks. Fear outweighed the fury in her voice as she spoke over the pounding rain. "This isn't the way. "
I shook my head in her hands, my own anger ebbing. "It has to be. I can't move forward, I can't go back. . . this is it for me. " My eyes flicked over to the ravine again, hoping she'd understand, hoping I understood.
She shifted my head back to her, when I started to stare longingly at the point of impact I so wished to meet up with. "No! You have to stay here. It will get better. " Her eyes searched mine frantically as she swallowed and worried her lip, marked with beads of water. "Please, believe me. "
I shrugged and shook my head again, pulling her hands from my face. They seemed so small and fragile at the moment, and I wished she hadn't come out to witness this. It'd be better for her if she'd found out after the fact.
"I remember everything, Sawyer, and it's killing me. I wish I could forget! I'd do anything to forget
. I remember the rain, I remember losing control. I remember slamming into that guard rail and going right through it. I remember everyone screaming and then I remember. . . silence. . . . and blood. So much blood. How do I forget that? How do I possibly forget that? How do I move on?" I took a step back from her, staring at the guard rail again. "How does any of that get better?"
She let out a soft sob and I turned my eyes back to her. I so wished she hadn't come. "Please, Luc! I don't know how, but you have to find a way!"
I put my hands up to my chest. "But that's just it - I don't want to anymore. I don't want to go on. I'm done!"
She threw herself at my body, her hands wrapping around my waist, her wet hair sticking to my arms, like tethers, trying to bind me to this world. "No, you have to stay. I demand you stay!" I couldn't help but to note the similarities between her words and the words I'd spouted at Lillian. It wouldn't work for her, anymore than it had worked for me though. It was too late.
I tried to push her off of me, but she clawed and pulled in a ferocious attempt to stay attached to my body. We struggled with each other, until both of us were panting from the exertion, the rain never stopping its relentless soaking.
Eventually, I managed to firmly grab onto both of her wrists and hold them in front of me. Her eyes begged me as surely as her voice. "Please, you have to deal with the pain - we all do!"
Exhausted and frustrated at the physical and emotional battle I hadn't been prepared for, I snapped back, "What the hell do you know about pain, Sawyer?"
Her eyes hardened and she gave me a glare that would have sent any other boy heading for cover. I matched her look though, not backing down from this fight, not when what I wanted was so close to me, just a few yards over her shoulder.
Without a word, she twisted her wrists in my grasp and shoved her arms forward. Her clothes and skin were so wet that the fabric of her long sleeves bunched up around my fingers, the material sliding up her arms to her elbows. I looked down, confused. . . and then I stopped and stared, my mouth wide open.
"I may not understand exactly what you feel, Lucas, but I understand pain!"
I couldn't answer her; I was still staring at her arms. When she'd twisted them in my grasp, she'd turned her palms up to me. When she'd shoved her arms forward, my grasp on her shirt had exposed her inner arms. And for the first time, I completely understood why Sawyer always dressed in long-sleeved clothes. I remembered back to her habit of unconsciously playing with her long sleeves, and thought that maybe that wasn't an unconscious habit after all. . . maybe that was a reminder. A reminder, of the thick, three inch long scars running vertically down each wrist.
I relaxed my hold on her and ran a thumb down each telltale mark. Her arms visibly pulled away, but I had enough of a grasp on her, to not let her keep hiding herself from me anymore. I thought back to her panicked look when Ms. Reynolds had been holding her wrist, and thought that this was something she probably hid from everyone.
My own pain momentarily forgotten, I looked back up to her tear and rain streaked face. "What did you do, Sawyer?" I whispered.
She shook her head remorsefully. "Something so stupid. . . I can hardly believe it sometimes. " We both relaxed our positions until I was holding her fingers, lacing them with mine. "After that jerk of a guy used me. . . I couldn't deal. One night, sitting home alone, I just decided enough was enough. . . my life would never get better. I'd never love like that again and nothing but pain awaited me. " She shrugged as her eyes flicked between mine. "I didn't want to live another day in that agony, and I couldn't see a way out of it. I busted into my dad's liquor cabinet, busted into my mom's medicine cabinet, and started chasing sleeping pills with whiskey shots. "
Her eyes lost focus and looked through me, back into her past. I gripped her fingers tight as she continued with her nightmare. "When that didn't work fast enough for me. . . I found a box knife in the garage. I sat on the floor and sliced each arm. " Her gaze returned to mine. "I didn't even think about it. . . I didn't even feel it. " Her lip twisted wryly. "I gave myself a trio of death. . . one of which was sure to claim me. "
She blinked and shook her head, her voice starting to waver. "My parents came home, sometime after I passed out, and found me. . . bleeding all over their garage. " She sniffed and heavy tears ran down her already wet cheeks. "They barely got there in time. A few more minutes. . . " She sighed and shook her head. "That's why they don't give me much leeway now, why they moved us to the middle of nowhere. They're scared I'll try that again. "
She dropped one of my hands and brushed the tears and rain off my cheek, mixing them into my skin as she softly stroked me while she continued. "But I'd never, ever try that again. Because I see now. . . that things do get better. " She stepped closer to me so that our bodies were touching. I vaguely noticed that the rain was letting up considerably, only a few droplets splashing on her cheeks and black hair as she lovingly gazed up at me. "I see that, because of you, Lucas. . . because I fell in love with you. "
She leaned up and brushed her lips against mine. I felt the crushing grief enter me as her lips touched mine. Grief that maybe I couldn't go through with this. . . grief that maybe I'd have to endure this nonstop pain even longer. I couldn't. I couldn't imagine another day feeling this way. A sob escaped me as our mouths moved together.
"I can't. . . I can't. . . " I mumbled between our kiss.
Her hands came up to my cheeks, her scars still visible to me in my watery peripheral. "You can. . . I'll help you. I love you. "
I saw a patch of stale sunlight illuminate the top of my mom's car behind her and knew the storm was passing, moving on to another location. Panic seized me; it felt like my window of opportunity was closing. Like, If I didn't do this now, while the conditions were similar to that night, then I'd never be able to do it. . .
I shook my head and stepped back from her. The rain around me was shifting to a gentle shower. I was running out of time. My breath started coming in sharp pulls - I had to do this. "I'm sorry. . . I'm not as strong as you, Sawyer. " I backed away farther and her hand snaked out to grab the wet dress shirt clinging to my shaking body. She grabbed the top and pulled, trying to keep me near her, her eyes wide.
"You are! You're stronger than you think. " She shook her head, her hair sticking to her neck. A patch of brighter sunlight hit her and for a moment, she truly did look like the angel she was. I'd miss her so much.
"You're wonderful, Lucas. " Her other hand came up to clutch at my shirt, pulling me into her. "You're warm and funny and loving. You belong here. . . with me. "
My voice came out in a sob as I tried to remove her fingers from my clothes. "I'm not supposed to be here. . . " I successfully removed her hands and clenched them in mine, wanting her to understand that I needed to do this and I needed to do it alone. "Please. . . leave, Sawyer. You shouldn't have to see this. "
Dropping her hands, I turned to sprint back to the Camaro. I'd find another way around her if she wasn't going to move. The rain was stopping, I needed to hurry. But Sawyer wasn't about to let me go without a fight. As I turned, she flung her arms around my waist, physically restraining me with everything inside her small body. I twisted in her arms, struggling to break free. "Stop, Sawyer, let me go!"
She sobbed into my back, her voice nearly muffled from our struggle. "No, I'll never let go, Luc!"
We struggled together, but I was stronger than her. I eventually pulled us both into the middle of the highway. I started to panic as we became more exposed to the open road. It would serve my purpose if a car flew around the corner and struck me, but I didn't want to see Sawyer get hurt. Panic gave me the extra edge I needed to break away from Sawyer's adrenaline-filled grasp. I finally extracted myself and gave her a shove, merely intending to stall her, to give me the time I needed to get back to the car.
As I made a run for it, my head turned to watch her as she landed harshly on the ground. Her hands behind her broke her fall, but
it still looked like it had hurt and for a second, I debated turning around to help her. But I felt sunlight on my face and not raindrops, and I twisted back around to her still running car. I didn't have time to help her.
As I opened the door, I heard from behind me, "Don't you love me?"
She had yelled that and the sound of her question echoed throughout my entire body. I closed my eyes and inhaled deep. Turning, I opened them to see her standing in the middle of the road, her arms outstretched to her sides. Her face held more fear, anger and love than I'd ever seen on someone.
"Yes," I said, simply.
Her hands clenched into fists as she stared across the road at me. I flicked quick glances up and down the street, praying that she'd move before she got hurt. Seemingly in synch again, her words sort of echoed my thoughts.
"You said you'd never hurt me. " She pointed over to the embankment I was so aching to go over. "This will hurt me, Lucas!"
I slumped as I watched her. This would be my only regret, and she knew that. She was digging her finger in the one wound that made this an almost difficult decision for me. I would miss her and I had no desire to hurt her. I couldn't see a way around that though. . . and it was too late to stop.
"Please. . . forgive me," I begged.
She stalked over to where I was standing in the open door. A part of me relaxed that she was now safe, a part of me worried that since she'd succeeded in making me pause, she'd now succeed in making me stop, and then I'd fail. I didn't want to fail. I couldn't live like this anymore. . . I didn't want to.
She stepped right up to me, pressing her wet, shivering body into mine. "No, I don't forgive you. I'll never forgive you for this. "
My face fell as she confirmed that my biggest regret, was a warranted one. "But. . . but you understand. " My hand reached down to her wrist, lifting it.
She understood the reference and shook her head, lifting her other wrist level with the first. "These were mistakes that I somehow managed to live through. " She shook her head again and then grabbed my face. "Don't make my mistake. "
Confusion flooded through me, as the sound of dripping water filled my ears; water dripping from leaves and branches, not the sky. The storm had stopped. The sound was reminiscent of that night, of the water dripping in the car. I shivered, and not from the cold.
"Mistake?" I whispered, not understanding the simple word. The only mistake I saw was my life being allowed to continue. I was supposed to die. It was fated, and you don't mess with fate.
My eyes had drifted to the ravine and she brought my attention back to her. "Yes, Luc. . . mistake. You were meant to live. You were saved. " She shook her head lightly, her face soft with compassion. "You were spared. . . just like me. "
I was shaking my head, fresh tears falling, but she continued before I could object. "Would you rather I was dead, Lucas? That I hadn't survived?" I violently shook my head and drew her into me. No, I couldn't imagine that fate. She exhaled brokenly into my soaked shoulder, her arms going around my neck. "That's the same way I feel about you. " Her hand twisted into my slick hair and she pulled back to gaze at me intently. "You're my miracle. Don't take that from me. "
I felt something crack in me and wanted to object, but words failed me. It felt like the window had fully closed, snapped shut, never to be reopened. I'd missed my chance. Despair crept into those cracks and a soft sob escaped me. Sawyer lovingly stroked my cheek. "I love you, Lucas. Heart and soul, I love you. I can't imagine a world without you in it. Please. . . stay. "
I still couldn't answer, sobs were stealing my words. The grief I felt within me, welled to such a painful point that I thought I might break apart. I'd never see Lil again. I'd never see any of them again. As my determination failed me, I started to feel the icy cold that I'd been standing in for awhile. My body started to shake in earnest as the wet clothes stuck to my wet skin, creating a coldness on the outside that matched the coldness of my hollowed out inside.
Sawyer stroked my shaking arms, ignoring how her own wet body was shaking just as badly. "Stay here," she whispered. "Stay here with me. We'll figure it out together. "
The coldness and loneliness overwhelmed me, finally broke me. I sank into the seat and lay over my knees, sobbing. She knelt down with me, her hands caressing my back. She murmured words of love and encouragement while my pain came out in soft wails. When I could breathe through the torture, I mumbled into my knees.
"They're gone. . . they're all gone. "
She murmured in my ear in response. "I know, Luc. But I'm not gone. I'm right here. . . and I'm not going anywhere. Neither me nor your mom are going to leave you. " As she spoke, I felt her reach over me and shut off the car. My sobbing increased.
It was an empty promise; no one can say they are never going to leave, not with life as unpredictable as it could be; I understood that better than most. But the words gave me the faintest glimmer of something anyway. Something that nearly felt like everything was going to be okay, and I struggled to hold onto it, to absorb it into me so it could outweigh the crushing sadness. But it was a slippery emotion, and I failed to grasp it time and again, as I bent over and continued my sobbing.
I heard words escape through my tears, although I had no control over saying them. "They abandoned me. . . Lil abandoned me. . . . "
I heard myself repeating it over and over in a nearly maniacal way, and Sawyer continued her soothing tone and soothing movements, repeatedly saying, "They didn't, Luc. . . they died. No one left you. . . they were taken from you. There's a difference. . . "
"Oh god, Sawyer. . . they're really gone. . . " The crying started in earnest at that point.
I don't know how long she comforted my crying body, but eventually in the distance I heard a siren approaching. I didn't look up from my lap as the siren got louder and louder. I mumbled more words, some coherent, some not, and Sawyer gave me comforting responses in return, always assuring me that she was here, that she wasn't leaving.
Her hands rubbed warm patches into my back as my head rested on my knees. The siren stopped and I heard a door open in the distance, but it sounded foggy, like I was hearing it through a tunnel. I thought maybe I was going to pass out from the strain, but somehow consciousness stayed with me. And then, through that haze, I heard a voice calling my name in a panic. I lifted my head, confused as to who was calling for me. I ruefully noticed the blue patches of cloudless sky above me, marred by only a few gray swatches of stormy clouds now, and those not looking like there was a drop of rain left in them. I'd failed. Some tiny, tiny part of my brain felt relief in that as Sawyer held me.
The yeller of my name became apparent to me as Sawyer's body was moved aside, and none too gently, to make room for my mom. Sawyer stepped back, her stormy eyes never leaving my face, as my mom squatted in front of me. She threw her arms around me and squeezed so tight I couldn't fully inhale. I let her. Guilt filled me as she began to sob. The guilt increased tenfold when she started to sob apologies.
"I'm so sorry, Luc. I'm so sorry I lied. " A figure stepped behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
I looked up from my mom to the sheriff standing by Sawyer in the open car door. His face was solemn, his steel eyes watery. He blinked a few times and lightly shook his head. "I'm sorry too, Luc. We should have told you. "
I dropped my head and shut my eyes. I hadn't wanted to see their pain. It was so much easier to imagine them years after the fact, when they were already over me. But my absence would have been just as painful for them as my friend's absence was for me. Maybe worse, since they'd have the added guilt of feeling like they'd pushed me over the edge. . . which they hadn't, not specifically anyway. It was multiple small events that had made this overly large reaction seem the only way out. As I shifted my focus between my mom, the sheriff and Sawyer, clarity filled me again, a less dramatic clarity than before, but no less profound. I didn't want to hurt the people who loved me. I didn't want them to feel t
he pain I felt. I didn't want them to feel responsible for my death, the way I felt responsible for my friends'.
I didn't want. . . to die.
I slung my arms around my mom and held her to me. While she sobbed in my arms, my eyes locked with Sawyer's behind her. "I'm sorry," I said softly, speaking to both of them.
They both nodded, my mom on the verge of an emotional breakdown in my arms. Finally Sheriff Whitney pulled her back. She turned in his arms and embraced him in a way I'd never seen her embrace anyone. I stared at them a moment, at the obvious love between them and thought maybe my mom was right. Maybe I was too young to understand their situation. I inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly. I may be too young to fully understand it, but I wasn't too young to condemn it solely on principle. Who was I to judge where two people found love?
A sob rose in me, as my thoughts drifted back to my love. . . Lillian. Sawyer resumed her squatting position in front of me, her hands rubbing my wet, shaking legs. She looked over my face with concerned eyes. "Lucas?"
The sob broke free as a wave of guilt and grief washed over me. I may have been able to halt the desire to end my life, and even that was still sort of tittering back and forth, but the desire to live wasn't exactly bringing me sunshiny feelings. No, I wasn't being overwhelmed by some sudden need to seize the day and make the most of each moment. I was still crushed - devastated and still feeling alone. I still hated myself. . . and what I'd done.
"I killed them, Sawyer. . . all of them. "
Tears fell from my eyes and she cupped my cheeks. "No. . . it was an accident, Luc. Let it go, baby. " She flushed a bit after she said that, and I smiled for a micro-second before grief swept over me, crushing me.
I knew if I was going to survive this day. . . I'd need help. I scooted forward a bit and reached into my back pocket. Finding my wallet, I pulled it out and gave it to my mom. She took it with an eager expression, eager to help me in any way possible. She raised an eyebrow and in-between tears I told her to call Beth. She looked at Sawyer, confused, and Sawyer, her mind in line with mine again, thankfully explained for me.
"His counselor. . . Mrs. Ryans. Her card must be in there somewhere. "
My mom nodded and immediately pulled out her cell phone while sheriff watched the road, ever cognizant of the potential danger of so many cars pulled alongside the highway, right at a sharp corner. I heard my mom's animated voice, talking rapidly and emotionally to someone on the other end of the phone. I tuned it out and focused on Sawyer, focused on my peace. I tried to make the comfort I used to get from her return to me. It was harder to do now; I had much more painful memories attached to her than before. But watching those pale eyes stare back at me unblinkingly, watching the beautiful shape of her lips, the arch of her brow, the spot where I knew my hidden dimple lay buried, eventually, I found a small level of comfort. Knowing that that was probably all I'd get today, I soaked it in.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice so hoarse it was nearly comical.
She didn't laugh though. Instead, tears leaked from her eyes. "You're welcome. . . don't ever try that again. "
A small smile crept into my lips and I nodded. Exhaustion overtook me and I lowered my head to hers. She ran her fingers back through my hair in a soothing, repetitious pattern, and we waited. Waited for me to feel well enough to live.
A numbness settled into me and I was vaguely aware of voices talking about me in the background. I stared without really seeing, my head a blank slate for once. I became aware of being removed from the car and shifted into the passenger's seat, although I had no idea who'd actually moved me over. Then the car restarted and I was leaving this cursed place. I was going home.
A hand came over to grasp mine and I clenched it, not knowing whose is was. A soft, comforting voice filled the car and I only caught the soothing, feminine tone, not the actual words. Within moments, we were pulling back into my driveway, where a strange car was already waiting for us, parked along the street. My mom's wagon pulled up next to us and I looked over, registering her haggard face staring at me through the window. She stepped out of her car and opened my door, helping me out.
I looked at her blankly as she grabbed my hand and helped me stand. She was drier than me, but looked just as worn, her eyes red and her face sickly pale. The sheriff came up to help her, having driven himself to our house, and the two of them clumsily got me inside. They walked me to the couch and sat me on it. I sort of felt like a rag-doll, an empty shell that people could move around and dress up to look human, but I wasn't really sure if that's what I was anymore.
I heard Sawyer's voice enter the house and I instinctually turned to look for her. She was walking through the door with Mrs. Ryans. . . Beth. She was animatedly telling her something, Beth nodding and eyeing me with a furrowed brow. In my numb haze, I couldn't make out the words, but I could picture them well enough. Sawyer was replaying the events that had happened on the highway. I didn't care. I didn't care what Sawyer said to her. I had no secrets anymore.
Mom anxiously went up to Beth, grabbing her hands and making a pleading noise. I couldn't tell what she was saying either, but I figured she was begging the professional to save her damaged son. If I could have felt any emotions at the moment, I'd probably feel really guilty about that.
Beth nodded and tried to remove her hands from Mom's grasp, but mom was holding her tight, like she was her lifeline or something. Eventually the sheriff had to walk over and remove her, pulling her into the kitchen. Sawyer eyed me on the couch and looked torn as to whether or not she should join me. I watched her curiously, not knowing what I wanted, since I wasn't letting anything fully enter my consciousness. Beth brought a hand to her shoulder and told her something. Sawyer nodded at her and then turned to wait in the kitchen, giving me one final supportive glance before she left.
Beth came over and sat in a chair next to the couch. She didn't say anything, just smiled at me. I stupidly smiled back, just like that doll again, mimicking life, but not really meaning it. She inhaled a big breath and let it out slowly. I did the same. "Lucas. . . " she said softly. I nodded and waited. "How are you?"
I looked down, numbness still the overriding feeling in my body. Knowing nothing would hurt me right now, I looked back up at her and spoke more honestly than I usually ever did. "I tried to kill myself today. "
She gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded. The pride on her face that I'd admitted something extremely painful, freely, was evident. "I know, Lucas," she whispered. "I'm so glad you called for me. "
I exhaled and it felt like the first true exhale I'd taken in months. I felt pieces of myself reenergizing with that exhale. Rebooting, like I'd turned myself off and the computer within me was resetting itself. I hoped whatever bug was in my system cleared itself out with this restart.
For the rest of the morning, I talked. Beth occasionally asked me questions, but mainly it was just me talking. I told her everything. I held nothing back, no bit of darkness, no edge of insanity, no self hatred - nothing. As my emotions came back to life. . . it hurt, and I had several panic attacks that Beth calmly helped me to breathe through. Then I'd break into crying spells and she'd rub my arm and tell me to keep going. Eventually though, I told her everything I'd bottled up since the accident.
At some point, I lied down on the couch and threw my arm over my eyes. I'd occasionally hear people talking quietly in the kitchen, or objects moving around, and I knew every person in there could hear what I was saying. I still didn't stop though. I spoke of the party we'd gone to that night. I spoke of Darren and Sammy, our friendship and their eternal bond to each other. I spoke of the accident and my horror regarding it. And I spoke of Lillian.
She was the most painful to talk about, but I did. I spoke of every aspect of our relationship. How intimate we'd been in life, but how we'd never taken that last leap into admitting our love out loud, and how we'd never physically shared that love with each other. I admitted even more inti
mate details of how we'd nearly done both of those things in my dreams. I went into an embarrassing amount of detail over how close we'd gotten to almost consummating our relationship. I'm sure I blushed a few times, but Beth only nodded and encouraged me to continue, and I'd needed to talk about it with someone. . . alive.
Hours later, when my words ran dry, I remained on the couch while Beth went to talk to my mom for a moment. I nodded at her, too exhausted to speak anymore, although I did manage a thank you before she left the room. I was exhausted, drained from an overly emotional couple of days. Or had it only been one day since the dance? It felt like years.
I felt rubbed raw, inside and outside, but a small smile was on my face as I stared up at the ceiling. I still felt a horrible sadness and an aching pain, that didn't magically go away or anything, but I did feel lighter. And for the first time in a long time, maybe ever since the crash, I felt something stirring in me that almost resembled. . . hope.
Sawyer came out and sat on the edge of the couch while the adults talked about me in the kitchen. I grabbed her hand, and blinkingly gazed up at her. I could feel the need for sleep filling me and she seemed to see that in me too. She leaned down and brushed some hair off my forehead before she kissed it. Her black hair swept over my chest, the familiar, comforting scent of lemons washing over me as she gave me a swift hug.
Leaning down, she whispered in my ear, "Get some sleep, Lucas. I love you. "
I felt a love-filled ache building in my chest, and I slung my arms around her, pulling her tight to me. "Stay with me," I barely squeaked out, my throat raw from talking and tears. She nodded, and brought her legs up onto the couch, her arms wrapping around me, her body quickly following. Despite our still slightly damp clothes, she was cocooning me in her warmth and in her love. I closed my eyes, feeling slumber rapidly approaching.
Before I completely gave into it, I twisted to bury myself even more into her sheltering embrace, my head falling into the crook of her neck. Then I kissed the warm skin there and whispered, "I love you too," before passing out from exhaustion.
I had no dreams that day and was relieved for it.