Cull’s bruised face won’t leave my mind. Nor will his voice, asking me to promise I’d talk to him. That I’d stop holding it in. I never meant to keep that promise. And deep down, I’m sure he knows that.
Seeing his body—bruised, stitched, and hunched in pain—only confirmed the things the voices in my head whisper all day, every day.
This is your fault.
You’re the reason he’s hurt.
You’re the reason everyone keeps hurting.
So it’s no surprise that I end up here again, tires crunching down the familiar dirt road to the river. I pull over and reach for my phone, only to realize I forgot to bring it inmy hurry. Instead, I spot one of my school notebooks in the passenger seat, a pen wedged inside the spiral, and grab it.
I climb the hill, feet slipping a little in the loose dirt, and make my way to the bridge. To the spot where Cullen first kissed me.
I lower myself to sit, the cool rusted metal pressing into my shoulder as I lean against the support beam. The warm breeze brushes past, catching my hair and stirring the tall grass below.
This place used to help. Used to bring a little clarity. But that’s not what I’m searching for tonight.
Even if there weren’t an obsessed psycho lurking in the shadows, my own mind would still be enough to drown in. The weight of it, constant and suffocating, isn’t something I’d wish on anyone. And I can’t ask Cull to carry it for me. I love him too much to let him be crushed by this.
I stare off across the water, the current moving swiftly. The sun is dipping over the river, the sky showing off in deep oranges and regal purples. It’s my favorite time of day, and this river, this place, has always been mine. A place to think, to breathe, to disappear for a while. I’ve ridden out panic attacks on these banks and hidden tears no one else could see. And more than once, I’ve come here to mourn never getting to love Cullen the way I wanted.
But now I have. I’ve loved him with everything I am.
And now it’s time to let go.
I glance across the water to where my Bronco is parked, and the memory hits: Cullen telling me he loved me, and the first time we gave ourselves completely to each other. That memory used to be enough to guide me through the dark.
But I’m too tired, and the dark is just too thick to keep fighting.
I set the notebook down beside me, the ink still drying on the last words I scribbled. I hadn’t planned to leave anything, but maybe it’s better this way.
I just needed to get my thoughts out. To leave something behind. Something that might help them understand why. Maybe it’ll offer peace—maybe even closure.
That’s why I’m here. For my own peace. My own closure.
A yawn slips out, slow and heavy, the pills kicking in. That was the goal. I just wanted quiet. No voices. No second-guessing.
No struggle.
I stand carefully and climb onto the rusted railing, one hand wrapped around a weathered support beam. The breeze picks up, carrying with it the faint scent of evergreen. It hits me low in the chest.Cullen. That smell has always been him.
He’s never far from my mind.
I pray he forgives me. That he knows I’ve loved him deeply, and to the best of my ability. That this is how I keep him safe.
I want my parents to find peace. I hope Hadley can finally forgive me.
I’m taking their burden with me.
They’ll be able to breathe again.
And I won’t hurt anymore.
I turn my face towards the setting sun, the light wind brushing softly across my skin. I close my eyes and imagine I hear Cullen’s voice saying my name, just one more time.
I take one last breath.
Then, I step.
