“Well, why me?” I ask, trying not to sound as broken as I realize I am; asking an impossible question that I know he doesn’t have the answer to. I knew it would hit me a lot harder the closer the weekend got, and it’sclear in my voice and the way my body seems to shake when I try to pull the memories from the locked up corner of my brain. “Why am I the only one who can’t seem to remember anything from that night?”
“I know it's hard-”
“Hard? What’s hard is knowing that you miss someone, knowing that they're dead and that something happened to them. Knowing that someone murdered them but not knowing why. Not knowing who. What’s hard is grieving someone without any recollection of the night they died all while the town moves on to partake in some shitty celebration like nothing happened.”
Defeat covers my father's features, and it breaks my heart. I don’t mean to come off insensitive to his own experience of Declan’s death, but just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean it doesn’t haunt me. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse to not remember. But right now it feels as if my brain is also battling with whether or not it’s safe to set those memories free.
“It’s not to dismiss their deaths, Liv. Some things continue even after tragedy strikes. You don't have to go. I’m not trying to pressure you one way or the other. But if you do want to go, that’s okay too. I do think it might do you some good. Sometimes we don't know how to swallow our own grief before it swallows us. And the last thing I’d want for you is to leave this town with that unresolved grief. That's all I'm trying to say."
He’s trying, but I can tell he doesn't even know how to navigate his own pain, let alone mine. We both lost someone we loved that night. But unlike me, he's had to get over it a lot quicker than I have, knowingthat his job wouldn't allow him the grace of mourning forever. He signed up for the role he was given; being the sheriff of this small town. He's had to forgive an unseen killer and turn to medication in order to move on for the sake of the people in this town, for his own sanity, and for me.
But at least he had a choice to move on. I’m stuck in this limbo of grieving a loss that I can’t even remember losing, thus forced to just move on. But part of me can’t, I don’t want to. Which is probably another reason why my mind is on the precipice of a conflicting battle.
To go or not to go.
I can’t deny it though; there’s a fascination in the idea of going up to the Pines this weekend. I won’t admit it to my father or to anyone else that I secretlydowant to go. I can’t even be too sure myself why the idea is calling to me like a siren in the sea; the Pines quite literally beckoning me with the haunted curl of her finger. Talk about magnetized captivity. But maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s why my asinine brain is urging me to follow everyone up tomorrow night. Maybe I’m ready to face the reality of what has been keeping that night hidden from me for the past four years. Maybe it’s because I’m finally ready to remember, to relive that horror and the fear. I can feel it this year, the beginning of the end. And maybe I can be the one to truly end it all. Maybe I know something the others don’t know. Maybe I can lead them to the person or responsible.
But what if the truth is darker than I can handle? Then again, I have to trust that if there was anyone else who might know what happened that weekend,that they’d come forward. So then why has it been four years and radio silence; a killer still at large.
My dad’s dispatcher walkie goes off but he ignores it by turning the volume knob down a notch before taking another step closer to me.
"That morning, Deck came zooming down to the house from the college. He was so excited to go to the Pines that weekend. He was proud of the work that he and the team had done and he wanted to make the best of it. Back then, you had to get a physical invitation selected by the football team, remember that?" My dad attempts a warming smile while recalling that morning, but I can't do anything but let the anguish that I've held onto hover over me like a storm cloud at the old memory he's bringing up; one that I do remember seeing as it happened before my decidedblackout.
I nod my head. "Yeah, I remember."
I remember it like it was yesterday, oddly enough.
"At first, he was confused as to whyyoualso had gotten an invite, though it wasn’t rare for high schoolers to get an invite based on who they knew from MCU. Regardless, I told him he had to be the one to drive you up there and he didn't even hesitate to agree. Though, you almost declined the invitation. It took you a minute, but after thinking it through, you changed your mind because you said-"
"That I wanted to spend my last weekend with him before I left for school." I let my words fall in a ripple of sorrow, recalling the only reason why I agreed to go up that weekend.
The whole situation is tragically sardonic, really. I was supposed to be moving out of state with my bestfriend the following weekend. She was simply fleeing the clutches of this small town and I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity to tag along. When she asked me, I said yes. We didn't have it all figured out, but we had the deposit down on the apartment and that was enough to push us onward. All we had to do was wait it out another week and then we were gone. It was going to be my last weekend with him.
On my terms.
By my choice.
But he's the one who ended up leaving me.
That night changed me forever and I don't know if I'll ever be the same because of it. Nothing will. And I can’t even remember my last moments with him. Not my true last moments anyway. I can recall nearly everything up until Halloween night.
I shake my head, hating the feeling like I was there in that moment, but knowing everything else after feels like a fever dream. A nightmare.
I walk toward the doors of the auto shop and start turning all the locks. "Help me close shop? Riff will kill me if I don't get to the bar soon." I decide to leave the conversation where my father left it, opting to change the subject so as not to dampen the mood any further. Or not to bring up any more unwanted thoughts than I can handle in one day.
He looks hopeless, but he accepts that I need to focus on something else and decides to help me anyway.
I flip the last set of switches and check all the drawers to make sure the tools are locked away safely. Before I can find my way to exit out the door, my dad stops me with a hand on the back of my shoulder.
"I love you, kiddo. You know that, right?" His quiet voice echoes from behind me and I can't convince myself to turn and face him.
When Deck was around, it was like all of the light in the world couldn't be dimmed by anything. Even after Mom had passed. We had spent every second of every day with her, loving her and sharing memories with her until the vile disease that riddled her body took her away. But even after it all, we still held on to each other. Me, Dad, and Declan.
But when Deck died, that all stopped. And then, there was nothing but absolute darkness. Darkness that drowned me even deeper than I already was. The light was stolen from us, and it's been impossible to turn it back on since. Sometimes it feels like Deck was the only one who understood me, saw me for me. He was the closest thing I had to home. I had my best friend, but even she and I didn’t always see eye to eye on everything. And I love my parents, of course, but my big brother never treated me like fragile China. He never doubted me, always encouraged me. And he gave me as good as he got from me, never failing to stand up to me or for me. He truly was one of my closest allies and the one I wish I could trade fates with. He had dreams and a future ahead of him. Something I can’t say I had any inclination of myself. But he had it all, and now he’s nothing but ash.
Guilt washes over me. Is it really a good idea to leave my dad in this insufferable town all alone?
First Mom. Then Deck. Now me.
