“Goodbye, Kevin,” she whispered and with that she slowly moved to the front of her car. He watched her get in and that was about all he could take before he turned away.
This was turning out to be a pretty shitty day, a day filled with goodbyes. He waited until he heard the car start up before he headed up the long path towards the beach. He dropped his bags near a small rock and took a deep breath of the salty air. Heavy, gray clouds were rolling in overhead, shielding him from the afternoon sun, and the temperature seemed to be dropping. His feet sank into the soft sand, covering his sneakers as he walked further along. He passed families splashing in the water, a few couples cuddling on the sand, and he carried on walking until he could see no one else around him, hear nothing but the waves crashing against the shore.
Thirty-five days on the road.
Thirteen different states.
Cheap junk food and one home-cooked meal.
The best and worst hotels and motels.
Beautiful scenery and breathtaking views.
A gigantic fucking spider.
Big cities and small towns.
Early mornings and sleepless nights.
Meeting new people and opening up old wounds.
Tears and laughter.
Happiness and pain.
Falling in love with Jasmin.
Thirty-five days on the road. All of it just to get to this moment, the moment where he would have to let go. All of that and he still wasn’t ready to do it. It was impossible to close this chapter of his life, say goodbye to fifteen years.
“We’re gonna be best friends forever, right, Kev?”
It was even harder to say goodbye knowing that Perry should’ve still been alive. It was his fault his friend wasn’t there anymore. Memories swirled around in his head, tormenting him, making him wish that things had turned out differently.
“You sure you’re okay to drive, Clay?”
“Yeah, man…I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Give me the keys.”
He took Perry’s chain out of his pocket and it felt heavy in his hand, weighed down by the guilt. Everything came rushing back at that instant, all the horrors he’d seen that night. The desperation. The helplessness. Those feelings were trapped in a memory and he only felt it when he thought about that night. But the guilt. He lived with the guilt every day.
“You better not be feeling up my girl back there, Clayton.”
“Why? Scared she might like it?”
“Perry, would you just shut up and put on your seatbelt. I told you three times already.”
“Fuck, you’re like a nagging—Yo, Kevin. Watch out!”
It was dark. He didn’t see it until the last second—the eerie shadow of…something. The car took on a life of its own, skidding across the road before it flipped. He could still hear the glass shattering on impact, smell the burning rubber as the tires skidded across the tarmac. And then the blood. So much blood. It was all his fault.
“Clayton, you’re not singing!”
“Where’s my girl, Kev.”
“I don’t know! I promise I’m gonna find her.”
It was a lie. He hadn’t even looked. To this day, he still didn’t know the extent of Shandré’s injuries. All he knew was that it was enough to kill her. Clayton’s legs were so badly broken they had to be amputated, Perry had bled out from the wound on his head, and all he got was a scratch down his forearm. So many lives destroyed because of him and he was perfectly fine. The guilt was too much to bear. His shoulders weren’t strong enough to carry such a burden.
