I kept my eyes on the floor, didn’t want to pry. Didn’t want to hear things that were private to them, and it was easy to do when the thoughts in my head were screaming.
Pain.So much pain had been in March in that second memory. I felt so incredibly sorry for him, but it was also a wakeup call for me.
Since Jinx died, I’d self-isolated so much because I’d felt like nobody could possibly know or understand what it was like under my skin. Nobody had felt the pain I’d felt. Nobody knew howhollowed outI really was on the inside, and how fullof all things bad at the same time.
But March’s pain was in me now. It was a different flavor, but just as intense. It was raw and it had consumed him completely—not the physical pain, no. That one was a different thing altogether.
It was theotherpain, the shock, the confusion, the panic he’d experienced when hearing those screams, when he’d stepped in front of that man who could very well be his own father, to protect…whom? He’d gotten in front of someone—those two people, the silhouettes he hadn’t focused on.
It made me realize that Iwasn’tall alone in the world and in my pain like I thought. It made me realize that other people had pain, too, each their own, and the Hands who were crying around me were more than enough proof. Ahandful of them were in tears as they listened to the others tell them about the memories they lost.
How curious. I’d come to this place to run away, but in just a few days, I’d already gotten so much more than I could have ever dreamed of.
Then it was my turn.
“You’re in a forest somewhere. The trees are dense and it’s pretty dark. It’s daylight but the canopy barely lets the sun through. You’re alone.”
All these words March said in a whisper, and I didn’t dare turn to even look at him yet.
Two bad, one neutral.He hadtwobad memories of mine.
I braced myself.
“You’re…you’re crying. Sobbing. Screaming.”
Every tick found me a littlelessthan the last.
“You’re kicking trees, I think. You barely feel the pain of it. You just feel…”
The word he was looking for was one I knew well. “Empty.” And I knew exactly what he was talking about, because I’d done that same thing again and again. Not once or twice, possibly over twenty times.
I’d told my parents I was going to see my friends, and I’d told my friends I’d be spending the day with my parents—they had this nasty habit of not letting me be by myself since Jinx, and it was difficult to sneak away from everyone most days. But some, I managed. Some, I hid away in the forest, deep where nobody wandered, and I let it all out. The tears and the pain and the rage, until I was completely empty.
I wonderedwhichmemory I’d given away. I wondered if something different had happened then that I would never remember now.
“Then there were your parents.”
My eyes closed. I’d had tears in them, it seemed, because they slid down my cheeks rightaway.
“What…what about my parents?” I said, and I sounded like I was choking.
“Nothing. They were…they were hugging you. Kissing your cheeks.”
I stopped. Turned and looked at him. “I had two bad memories.” I never had to give away agoodone.
The look in March’s eyes, though. Thesorryhe screamed at me through them.
“It hurt right here.” He touched his own gut, right below his ribcage. “You were sad. You were angry.” He reached out a hand for my face and wiped a tear. “You hated that they were hugging you. You just wanted to get away.”
And now I was falling apart again.
I knew exactly what he was talking about. Not because I remembered, but because I knew how I feltothertimes. Not in that same exact scenario, but close. The way I’d felt every time I was reminded that they forgot—no.
My parents didn’t forget Jinx.
They just moved on too fast, in a way thatfeltlike forgetting.
Life continued for them. They laughed when I wasn’t even close to ready yet, and just the sound of it felt likebetrayal.
