BLISS

by A. R. Breck

  I keep to myself and quickly fill everything out, passing it back to the officer at the front.

  “Lock your belongings up in the lockers behind you. You will be called when the inmate is ready.”

  I do as she says, then sit and wait.

  And wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, the intercom announces Aeron’s name, and I get up to walk through two sets of metal detectors. Once I clear both of those, I walk through multiple sets of doors. After I get through the first door, it closes. Once that one closes, another one opens. I go through this several times until I end up in front of a row of telephone booths with chairs in front of them.

  In one of them, sits Aeron.

  He doesn’t have the phone up to his ear. Instead, he sits back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair is longer, pulled back into a small bun at the base of his head. He has facial hair now, too. Just a little scruff on his jaw and chin.

  And his eyes…

  His eyes look so angry.

  I walk up to the booth and sit down, gesturing to the phone.

  He sits there for a second, looking me over. Inspecting me for injuries, deformities, I don’t know.

  It’s when he picks up the phone, and I hear his voice for the first time again, that my heart beats that familiar rhythm in my chest.

  “Why are you here?” He gruffs. His words are harsh. His voice brash. He’s unhappy.

  I’m right there with him.

  “That’s what I get after three months?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Mercy?” He leans forward, his navy blue scrubs a contradiction to his usual attire. It’s too plain.

  Aeron is everything but plain.

  “Did you receive my letters?”

  He shrugs.

  “Did you? Did you receive my letters? Did you know I’ve been calling?”

  “I received them.” He adjusts in his chair.

  “And? Did you read them?” Tears spring to my eyes. There’s no way I sent him so many letters and he didn’t read them.

  Right?

  “No. I tossed them. Some I gave to my bunk mate to use as fucking toilet paper for his ass. No, I didn’t read them, Mercy. Why the fuck are you here?”

  My chest seizes at his cruel words. How could he?

  “Was this some game the whole time?” I cry. “Some joke to get with someone your brother liked? Get me on drugs and then vanish? Do you even know where I’ve been the last three months?”

  “Don’t really care, honestly.” He sighs, scrubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

  “I went to fucking treatment, you asshole. I tried to kill myself. I overdosed. Had a seizure and got a concussion. I got locked up because of the shit I went through.” Shit, I’m losing it. I had an entire plan to keep my cool and tell him to go to hell. But, his nonchalant attitude about our entire situation throws me through a loop.

  His eyes go wide at my words, but he quickly recovers with his bored poker face.

  Was this seriously a joke? Was it all in my head?

  I take a deep breath to cool down and start again.

  “Where were you when the shooting happened?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He looks at me through lazy eyes. His entire demeanor comes across as lazy. Bored. Like I’m a fucking history lesson. But his jaw continuously tics and I know he’s moments from exploding. He may be a master of the poker face, but I know him. His eyes are alit with a fire that I’m all too familiar with.

  They rage with what I’ve been through. But he doesn’t say anything.

  He never will, I realize.

  I’m done with his bullshit.

  “There is a reason why I came, actually.” I sit up straight and look him right in his blue eyes. A flicker of something I’m not sure how to name makes an appearance. I want to inspect what that emotion is, but it’s gone before I can put a name to it.

  “I’m saying goodbye, Aeron.” I sigh. It hurts, and I want to sob, but I don’t show it.

  “Where are you going?” He sits up straight, interest piqued.

  “Nowhere, really. I’m saying goodbye to us. I can’t do this anymore, and after sitting in treatment for three months and not hearing from you, not once, I realize I deserve better. I’m sorry you lost your brother. I wish I never would have gone to The Pit with you that night. But I can’t keep living with what ifs any maybes. I can’t keep going on with my life like this, using drugs and doing things that just aren’t me. It’s time I move on with my life. I’m saying goodbye, Aeron. Forever.”

  Silence.

  Aeron’s nostrils flare, and he looks seconds from breaking down this barrier between us and strangle me.

  “What?” He whispers through the phone. “And what the fuck do you think you’re going to do now? Huh?” His face grows a cocky smirk on it. “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. You think you can find with someone else what we have between us. You’re dead wrong, baby. You’ll be a lonely soul searching for something that’s been right in front of you.”

  “No. See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m going to find someone who wants me. Who cares about me. Someone who I know won’t abandon me when I need them most. Your brother has been there for me since day one. Can you say the same? No, you can’t. Your brother is gone now, and I’m not going to settle for someone who isn’t going to meet me halfway.”

  Aeron’s jaw muscles twitch as he looks off to the side, and he only looks back at me when I stand up.

  “Can you honestly say you’ve met me halfway? Have you called me back? Written me a letter? You blamed me for your brother’s death. You tore me apart and then left me in the dark for over three months. I tried to die, Aeron. I can’t continue with this. With you.”

  I take a deep breath to stop the tears then finish my speech. “This is goodbye, Aeron. Take care of yourself.” I give him one last look. He’s so handsome. One of the most handsome men I’ve ever met in my life. He’s bad and full of trouble and not someone I ever would have gone for in the past. And I did, I took the chance, and he was a wild ride. But he’s not stable, and he might not ever be stable.

  And I desperately need stability.

  “Mercy.” He barks my name.

  I hang up the phone, still looking at him.

  “Mercy.” He says again, louder this time. I can hear him through the glass and there’s an urgency in his voice that I ignore. I have to ignore it.

  As much as I want to turn back around and press my hands up against the glass and plead with him to give me something, anything, I can’t.

  I have to move on.

  I keep walking, and I jump when I hear a slam. Like he threw the phone up against the glass. There’s shuffling and yelling, but I don’t pay attention to any of that.

  “Mercy!” He shouts.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  He’s pounding on the glass.

  I ignore him, and with tears streaming down my face, I walk out of his life.

  And into a new one.

  28

  Aeron

  I keep my face blank even when the pain is my wrists is nearly unbearable. The cuffs cut into my skin because they’re clicked about four notches too small. I can feel it grinding up against my bones, but I don’t pay attention to it.

  Mercy.

  Fucking Mercy.

  How could she… how could she?

  Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m in the wrong. When I get myself fucked up enough, with the drugs, and the pills, I lose my focus on the difference between right and wrong. I fade out of reality, and that’s honestly a place where I’d rather be.

  Time doesn’t factor when I’m high. The night we went to The Pit, I had no idea I was gone for well over an hour when I went to do my deal. I ended up getting high with the pill poppers from Minneapolis and before I knew it, heard the sound of guns going off.

  My mind focused, and I remembered.

  Mercy.

  How could I ever forg
et?

  I ran for my fucking life, running over people to get to my only focus.

  Mercy.

  I eventually find her, broken, alone, terrified. Then I see my brother.

  My baby brother.

  Being high and terrified made me spit out terrible things to Mercy that I wish I could take back, but I’m too stubborn of a fuck to do something like that. I’d rather keep my mouth shut, even when I know it’s the wrong thing to do.

  Why did I ever ask her to come to The Pit? My brother was right, going there was a mistake from the beginning. But no, I had to be an asshole and drag her and him along with me.

  Now look what happened. I’m in jail, locked behind bars and unable to escape and go to the woman of my dreams.

  My brother is dead and six feet under. I don’t know where he’s buried or when he even got buried.

  My dad has barely spoken to me. I think he blames me for my brother’s death, and I don’t blame him. I’ve been a fuck up since my mom took her last breath.

  The girl I think I love tried to kill herself. Took the drugs that I gave her and almost died because of it. She’s been going through some traumatic shit the last few months and I’ve kept her in the dark.

  I don’t blame anyone for hating me. I deserve it every step of the way, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it hurts like hell when someone says it to your face.

  When the police came, I didn’t fight it. I didn’t, because there was no use at that point. If Mercy is going to look at me like I’m a stranger, like I’m the fucking bad guy, then send me to jail and burn that mother fucker down.

  She called me in the beginning. She called me as much as the jail would allow. I couldn’t answer any of the calls, because I wasn’t ready.

  I’m still not ready.

  She thinks I tossed her letters, that I haven’t read any of them.

  I lied.

  Every single one of them is stored underneath my mattress, the paper worn and the letters faded from my constant reading and rereading of them. The constant folding and unfolding of the paper. Each line, each word has been memorized to a T.

  But none of her words, none of her letters could have shocked me more than seeing her walk into the jail, the place where I dream about her and think about her day after day.

  She looked healthy.

  She looked revived.

  It made me angry. That she can walk away from this without me and be okay.

  When she told me she was giving saying goodbye forever, it was a stake to my heart.

  Rage overtook me unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. We know the rules of phone calls and visiting hours in jail. There is no stretching those boundaries in jail.

  I broke those boundaries.

  No more Mercy? Forever?

  Hell fucking no.

  Guards came and tore me out of my booth and slammed me on the ground, after I dented the glass. Yeah, that shit is bullet proof.

  My nose got busted when he slammed my face on the ground.

  It feels like my bones were breaking when they cuffed me. No doubt will my wrists be scattered in bruises later.

  My arms get forced one way then the next, and when we arrive at my cell, the guard opens it and unlocking the death trap on my wrists, he shoves me inside.

  “You fucked up, inmate.” He barks. I’m sure if my face wasn’t in cement right now, I’d watch him place his hands on his waist right below his beer gut and act like the tough guy. Place him outside these walls and watch me lay him on his fat ass.

  I hear the guard shuffle away. I’m sure I’m going to get my ass handed to me later. They’re going to make me skip a meal or two.

  Doesn’t matter.

  Now I have a purpose.

  I’ll sit in here for the next ten months. I’ll bide my time. Then the moment I’m released, I’ll go get my girl.

  29

  Mercy

  One year later

  “Shit, shit, shit.” My book slips from my arms and falls on the grass. I bend down to pick it up, and my sunglasses fall off my face. “Ughhhhhh.” I reach to grab it, and my cup of ice water spills, half spilling on my shirt and half spilling on the grass. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

  I shouldn’t be surprised, though. I honestly think I’ve turned into one of the clumsiest people in the world.

  I pick up all my stuff, and this time, I stand up and have everything in my arms, finally feeling secure.

  Then my phone starts ringing.

  I tip my head back and let out an evil laugh. The world is obviously out to get me, always.

  I set everything down at a nearby bench and pull my phone out of my purse.

  “Hello?” I bark.

  “Whoah. Bad day at class?” Whitney asks from the other end of the phone.

  “Sorry, no. It’s just… me. What’s up?”

  “Just got out of class.” Knew it. “You want to go grab a bite?”

  “Eh, I would, but I have to run home before class this afternoon. Forgot my damn laptop.”

  “You suck. Call you tomorrow? I haven’t seen you all week, we need to do something this weekend.” She whines.

  “Yes. Come over. Not like I’m doing anything anyway.” I roll my eyes. My life is so lame now.

  “’Kay. Talk to you later.” She hangs up, and I readjust my bag and finish walking to my car. Hopping in, I make my way to my next destination.

  Moving back home after I was released from The Haven was not as awkward as I thought it would be. I figured Aric’s friends would just forget about me and move on, but if anything, they clung to me even harder. Whitney and Sidney sat down and pried the information out of me, and once I did, our relationship was solidified. We grew close, and even though I was certain I wanted to finish senior year online, my new friends made me feel like going to high school wouldn’t be so hard after all.

  So, I ended up going to Aric’s high school for my senior year. It was hard at first, being in Aric’s school when he wasn’t there. Walking down the halls and sitting in the classrooms he’s sat in. But day by day, it got easier. By the end of the year, Riley, Sidney, and I grew really close.

  We all ended up applying for the same college at Pine U. When we all got accepted, they tried to get me to room with them in the dorms on campus. I didn’t want that, though. If I’ve learned anything since last year, it’s that I don’t do well under pressure. I need stability and structure, and living around a ton of college girls would most definitely send me back to The Haven.

  Instead, Dave helped me find a little house to rent near campus. It’s small and comfortable and all I need. I’m mostly at school anyway, so it’s not like I need much.

  Starting up my car, I make my way the thirty minutes to Lake City. I do have to head home before heading back to school, but I didn’t feel like telling Whitney where I was going. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed, I still don’t like when people pity me.

  Pulling up to the cemetery, I park my car in my usual spot and make my way to the grand stone that I spend more time than I probably should.

  “Hey, you.” I say, laying my hand on Aric’s black headstone. It lays on top of a hill at the cemetery, and I feel like he got the best spot in the entire place. Right next to his mother, Karen Reid. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to her, too. It should feel awkward, talking out loud to someone who can’t talk back to me, but I’ve grown used to it.

  It takes too long to drive down to Aurora Falls and visit my family, but I have been able to make the trip out there a couple times.

  “I miss you.” I sit down in the grass, crossing my legs and pulling out stray pieces of grass. I don’t even need to come out here and talk to him, sometimes I just like to come out here and sit next to him.

  I’ve spent enough time out here to really reflect on my life. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is too short. Aric was taken away from this world too soon, and I wish more than anything I could take that night back.

&nbs
p; I can’t take it back, though. I’m also not sure where I’d be if that night never happened. Would I still be hooked on drugs? Would have I eventually gotten off them? Maybe Aric and I would have ended up together. Or maybe I would have ended up with Aeron.

  Aeron.

  I think about him more than I should. I spend more time than I should wishing for things I shouldn’t be wishing for.

  I spend my lonely nights wondering what I could change and think about the different paths I’ve chosen in life. If my parents would have never died, where would I be?

  If they never would have died, I never would have met the Reid’s.

  If I never would have met Dave and Aric, I never would have met Aeron.

  If I never would have met Aeron, I never would have taken drugs.

  If Aric would have never died, I wouldn’t have tried to kill myself.

  If I never tried to kill myself, I never would have gone to The Haven.

  Where would I be without The Haven?

  It’s made me stronger. Yet, it’s also made me weaker. I’m more aware of my vulnerabilities and my weaknesses. I steer clear of temptations because I fear what might happen if I crack.

  I feel fragile after everything that’s happened to me.

  I want to blame Aeron for everything that’s happened, but I can’t.

  For one, it’s not his fault. I’m my own person. I chose to do what I did, and at the end of the day, it’s made me who I am today.

  He also didn’t force Aric to go to The Pit. No one did. That one was the hardest pill to swallow. Aric made his own decision. I can’t blame myself or Aeron for that decision.

  I also can’t blame Aeron because… it’s Aeron. Our relationship was born on a touch and a look, and it might have grown with darkness and bad decisions, but that doesn’t make it any less special. If anything, I’m glad it was Aeron that I got to experience that part of my life with.

  The longer I spend away from Aeron, the more I miss him, and the less I hate him.

  I just still don’t know if I can ever forgive him.

  “Sorry, Aric. I shouldn’t even be thinking these thoughts when I’m around you.” I run my hand down my face. I don’t know why all these feelings are getting brought up right now, but it’s overwhelming me.