Death had clawed through the serenity of the friendship we once had, tearing away the only pieces that welded us together.
And honestly, it was a goddamn fucking tragedy.
I loved Chase Keller.
I think a small piece of me always will.
Icould count on one hand how many times over the past three years I’d sat on this weathered pier—the one that banks at the edge of the thick forest and inky lake on Rusty’s property—and allowed myself to think back to that day at the clubhouse, the one where I had ruthlessly cut Laiken off at the legs.
The first was exactly two years ago.
The second three-hundred-and-sixty-five days after that.
The third was today.
Three times,that was all.
The other one-thousand-and-ninety-two or so days, I’ve spent quietly numbing myself, hiding behind the shadows of my demons like a little bitch, avoiding the dark corners that yield sharp edges inside of me.
Because when I’m sober, I feel it all, but when I’m high, it’s as if I could fly. The problem with flying though is you're doomed to fall, and falling I’d come to know all too well.
My nose drips, and I use my thumb to wipe away the moisture. And when my fingers begin to shake, I push both sides of my long hair behind my ears, firing up a blunt as a distraction.
Burning down blunts had been a daily occurrence long before I’d lost Jade. Beer and vodka, a bitter taste on mytongue. However, the sheer amount of cocaine and whiskey I’d consumed over the past three years should have done me in.
Yet, I was still here, alive. And what for? I wasn’t too sure. At least, that's what I’d settled on telling myself.
I exhale through my nose, and my lids slide close over my eyes.
I used to think I could fool myself, only, as the days and years dragged on, my loss set deeper into my bones. Avoiding my past was becoming much harder, and the anniversary of my sister's murder had a cutting way of reminding me of all that I’d been pushing down, all that I’d lost, andwhoI still had left to lose.
Today, Laiken Campbell is the reason I am fighting against the burning urge to snort an eight-ball, or worse, take a needle to my vein. Not that I’d touched H, promised I’d kill myself long before I ever did. But on days like today, I understood why Laiken’s mother went from getting herself out the door with coke, to putting herself to bed with heroin.
I wanted to be comatose too,I really fucking did,but no more than I wanted to make sure history didn’t have a chance to repeat itself.
Harlen had shared with me that Laiken was working tonight, and the trepidation of losing hercompletely, and not being able to stop it for a second time,kept me from snuffing out my flickering light.
I swallow the knot in my throat and drop my chin, my eyes burning when they latch to my fist, noticing how my knuckles are curled at the edge of the pier. They are blanched and stark, blushing pink, bringing back a memory I long to forget, and I blink, forcing the phantom stains of my mother’s blood away.
I knew the universe was having a laugh at me, serving up the ghostly picture as a reminder that no matter how good my intentions, Laiken wasn’t and would never be safe with me.
It felt as if I was constantly taking one step forward, only to be pushed back two. That's why most days, I stopped trying.
That truth sets my teeth on edge and sweat creeps down my back, numbing the base of my spine.
Putting a bullet in my mother’s skull had shown me that just because you loved someone, it didn’t mean you couldn’t kill them.
That was why I’d severed Laiken at the vein.
That was why I’d been sure to keep my space.
Because I knew where I was headed, and who I’d become.
I wasa killer,not a savior. I knew I needed to let her go. But on a day like today when the threat from someone else was much greater than the risk I posed, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do that.
Call me selfish, call me whatever the fuck you want. Laiken Campbell and I were doomed to the same storm.
I uncurl my fists, drag them down my thighs, and focus my attention on the water. I watch it rippling with the late afternoon’s subtle breeze, how the day's last sun rays glitter off the surface like a promise that maybe we could rewrite what had happened three years ago. Pen a different story, an entirely new ending.
