However, none of them wants to see it from my side, so I go upstairs and lock myself in my bedroom, wishing for it to all disappear.
And it does.
Because the moment I lie down on the bed and cover myself with my blanket, the world around me changes. Suddenly, I’m no longer in my room but on the street.
Walking … no … mindlessly roaming around.
Crossing sidewalks without looking.
Floating like a ghost through the town.
It feels like months—no, years—have passed.
I don’t feel alive, and at this point, I’m not sure I still want to be.
My mind is so dark … Voices tell me that I’m useless. That I have no purpose. That I don’t belong. That I don’t even care enough to make a change.
I hear my dad calling me, but no matter how hard I try, I never find him.
He’s gone.
He may be alive, but he’s no longer himself.
He’s a shadow of what he once was. An apparition. Just like me.
Like ghosts, we wander this world, uncaring for how it may end. When it will end.
But out of nowhere, a blinding light fills the void. I cover my eyes.
The world around me ceases to exist, for just a moment.
And then I find myself witnessing a car driving high-speed into a wall.
I shoot up from the bed, covered in sweat, my lungs sucking in the air like they haven’t had any in days. It takes me a few minutes to realize what just happened was all in my head. A nightmare that I don’t want to remember but unfortunately do.
That’s when I notice this doesn’t look like my room.
And that there’s a girl lying next to me.
Oh, God.
I crawl out of bed and stand at the edge, looking down upon her.
Memories of our night together flash back into my mind. Hot streaks of passion still ignite my body, after all this time has passed. But the most stunning part is that they were with her.
And it was never supposed to happen.
I can’t believe I stayed the night. I’ve completely lost it.
I step back slowly, hoping I won’t wake her. I tell myself it’s for the best, even though I know it’s a bad choice. Every inch of me wants to scream.
Still, I pick up my clothes, put them back on, and leave.
All this time, I’ve been lying to myself. I shouldn’t have come so close. I shouldn’t have become attached. She deserves better than that.
Because no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to make her happy.
Not because of her needs … but because of my shortcomings.
***
Maybell
When I wake up, I turn but find myself alone in a warm bed that still carries his smell.
The sun is shining, but there’s no one in sight.
I sit up straight and look around, wondering where he went. I don’t hear any sounds, and when I call his name, there’s no response.
Did he leave?
But why? I hope it wasn’t because of what we did last night.
God, just the thought of him kissing me in places I never knew would feel so good still puts a smile on my face. My first time was perfect.
Except for the fact that Alex is missing.
And that we had sex last night.
Just thinking about it gets me all hot and bothered again. But then I remember we also fell asleep in each other’s arms, and in the heaviness of it all, I forgot to take my pill.
So I quickly snatch it off my nightstand, grab my water bottle, and chug it back.
I throw the blanket off me and grab my cell phone from my nightstand to check for updates, but there are none. Why would he just get up and leave without saying goodbye? Without even leaving so much as a message? It makes no sense.
Unless he’s going somewhere or doing something he doesn’t want me to know about.
I dial his number and call him, but he doesn’t pick up. Not even after five times, and now, I’m starting to worry.
There shouldn’t be any secrets between us. Why would he not want to tell me where he went?
Or was I wrong thinking we were much more than just friends with benefits?
With trouble, I get out of bed, using my crutches to get to my closet and grab some clothes. I put them on and make my way to the kitchen to get some food in my stomach. Everything takes a lot longer when you have no one to help you, and the more time I spend trying to get ready for the day, the lonelier I feel.
I miss Alex … but I’m sure he didn’t want me to feel this way.
He always said he cares more about me than anyone else does. That he wants me to be happy.
This isn’t it. Something must be wrong.
I check my phone again and log in to Instagram and Twitter, trying to see if he’s posted anything anywhere, but so far no luck. Until I find his Facebook … He’s not posted anything except an emoticon. But there’s a location attached. And I know the place.
Without thinking, I grab my crutches and walk myself out the door.
***
Thirty minutes later
I got a cab to bring me to the spot at the far end of the city, near the forest where there’s a big river separating the two. When he’s as close as he can get, I pay the driver and get out of the cab to walk the rest of the way on my crutches.
It’s tough, but I’m not stopping.
Not when I realize where Alex is.
On. A. Bridge.
It takes me fifteen minutes.
Fifteen grueling minutes of painful steps to get where he is.
Fifteen minutes to make my heart feel like it’s about to be crushed.
Because I find him sitting on a ledge.
His face hidden behind a thick hoodie, curls peeking out.
Feet dangling over the edge, eyes looking out at the gushing water below.
“Alex!” I call out his name and start walking faster, even though it hurts like hell. I have to go to him. I have to know what’s wrong.
I can’t believe this is happening, especially after yesterday, but I’m not turning back either. We’ve come too far for that.
“What are you doing?” I yell, trying to get him to respond.
But he seems stoic. Not even here.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Focus on me.”
He turns his head, his eyes gloomy and red from tears.
“Stop.” His voice is so low that it makes my skin crawl.
“Why? Tell me why.”
I can tell he’s hurt from the way his lips scrunch up, and his face contorts. I want nothing more than to go over there and hug him and tell him things will be okay, but when I take another step forward, his voice alone makes me stop.
“Don’t take another step,” he growls.
“Please … Alex … tell me what’s wrong,” I say, desperately trying to connect.
It feels like he’s a completely different person, which makes me wonder what’s troubling him so much.
“I know you’re trying to hide, but I’m not going to leave you here.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” he says.
“I came to find you,” I say, stopping my voice from wavering.
“It’s too late …” he says, looking away for a second.
“No, it’s not. This isn’t the answer. It never is.” I swallow away the lump in my throat. I hope I’m saying the right things. I don’t want to lose him.
“You don’t understand,” he says, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I will if you tell me. Please …” I suck on my lip to prevent the tears from coming too. “Tell me why you’re doing this. I have to know. Maybe we can fix it.”
His legs shift and my heart skips a beat from just that one movement on a ledge that could mean death. “I thought so too, but nothing can fix this.”
“I don’t believe that. We haven’t even tried. E
verything can be fixed if we try hard enough.”
“I tried! Every goddamn day!” he yells, clenching his fist. “I ruin everything!”
“That’s nonsense,” I say.
“You don’t even know. I ruined my own life. I got bullied and never stood up to the assholes. I stopped going to school and haven’t even applied for college yet. I don’t have a job; I don’t have anything except my computer.”
“That’s only temporary.”
“I’m not finished yet,” he says. “Whenever I’m around, things just go to shit. Look at my dad. He went into cardiac arrest because I gave him a sandwich and he couldn’t stomach it. He choked, and I couldn’t even do anything except call 911 and pray someone else could help him.”
“You did the best you could …”
“No, I didn’t! I never have.” He grabs his hair, yanking it from his scalp. “I always choose the easy option. I never do enough. I could’ve done more. If I had given him proper CPR, he might not have had the brain damage. And maybe I wouldn’t have dropped out of school because of it.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, but I swallow away the words that form on my lips. Nothing I say will change how he feels about himself. Only he can.
He sighs. “I can’t help you. I have no place here.”
“I won’t give up on you. Don’t ask that from me,” I say after a while.
“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m doing this for you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “This isn’t the answer.”
“You say that now, but you have no idea how I feel.”
“I thought you were happy …” A cold breeze makes me grab my arms and shiver. “I thought being with me made you happy. That we were going to stay together … forever.” That last word feels like it was stuck in my throat.
He looks down at the water again. “I wanted that too … for you,” he says. “All I want is for you to be happy. But how can you be when I’m still here?” He rams his fist on the stone ledge, making me jolt with fear. “How can you be happy when I’m the sole reason for your unhappiness?”
“What?” My eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”
“Your accident.” He looks me dead in the eye. “Was my fault.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, shaking my head. I won’t believe it. “That’s not true,” I mutter through my hand.
“It is true,” he growls, shattering my heart into tiny pieces. “I am the one who stepped in front of your car.”
Guilt
Alexander
I remember it like it happened yesterday.
That day I felt so beaten, so lost.
My dad yelled at me the entire week, telling me I was useless and that I need to get my shit together and do something. He was right. I should, but when I try to get up, I feel empty inside. Hopeless.
I’ve felt this way for a long, long time.
Maybe even before my dad’s cardiac arrest.
The brain damage he sustained from the prolonged coma made him even more angry and less capable of withholding his thoughts. And I took it all in … all of those words … all those painful jabs to the heart.
I have no one except my family, and now, I lost them too.
My mom always tries to calm things down between us, but it never works. She’s only trying to keep our family together, and I don’t blame her. Still, everything my dad says stays with me.
His near-death experience even got me so distracted I couldn’t finish school.
Now, I use games to escape from my reality. The reality where my dad chastises me every day for not knowing how to deal with my own emotions. For not knowing how to deal with his.
As time passes, I become more and more depressed. And now, I’ve hit rock bottom.
The final fight between my dad and me pushed me over the edge.
I run from the house and saunter through the rain, through the day and into the evening. I can’t do anything but walk and try to disappear. I don’t pay attention to where I’m going. Never mind the crosswalks or the roads.
Until the car that comes out of nowhere, blinds my vision, and all that’s left are screeching tires and hampered breaths.
This is it. This is where it all ends.
When I open my eyes, there’s a car smashed into the wall.
Her car.
She swerved to avoid me, even though I wasn’t avoiding her.
She wanted to save me, while I only cared about death.
I should’ve died … but I’m still alive.
I can’t believe what just happened, but in a split second, I decide to look.
There she is, lying in her car. The angel of death … who rescued me.
For some reason, the sight of her gives me something new. A task. A meaning. A purpose to my aimless life.
So I unbuckle her belt and take her from the car, dragging her away from the fire so I can call 911. Only when I realize she’s the girl from high school, the one I always fantasized about, do I understand the magnitude of the situation.
I can’t just leave her here.
Or anywhere, for that matter.
It was my fault she got into this mess, and assisting her so she can live her life the way she wants is going to be the only way to redeem myself.
***
Maybell
The air feels stuck in my throat as I struggle to breathe.
Alexander Wright. The boy from school who came to be known as The Snicker God …
He caused my car crash.
Images of that day flash in front of me.
Me, reading a book I love.
Me, riding my car.
Me, not seeing that guy stepping out into the traffic.
Me, almost hitting him.
Him.
It was always him.
When I woke up in the hospital, I remembered something about seeing eyes stare back at me seconds before the crash, but the memory was so foggy I dismissed it as fantasy.
It was never just a figment of my imagination.
It was him all along.
“You … caused this?” I look down at my leg, tears forming in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, May. I really am,” he says, his voice so dark it makes me want to scream.
“Tell me you’re lying …” I say, but I already know he’s not. The more I think about it, the more it’s starting to make sense. And now, I’m losing my mind.
“It’s the truth,” he says, giving me a final blow to the heart. “I only volunteered at the hospital so I could see you and help you get better … because of what I’d done.”
I shake my head in disbelief.
When he came to me in the hospital, I thought he was just a random boy I could befriend. Then I found out he was someone I went to school with, and when he told me he’d always had a crush on me, I was flattered. And when I found out he was the boy I’d been gaming with, I thought it was too good to be true.
Turns out it was.
He wasn’t just any boy. He was the cause of all my misery.
But still … it doesn’t sit right.
He wouldn’t have just walked out on the street to harm me. He never intended for any of this to happen, even though it did.
I refuse to blame him. “No,” I yell.
His eyes catch mine in a moment of pure rage. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. You, out of all people … Your car crash happened because of me, and I will never forgive myself for it.”
Forgiveness.
That’s what this is all about?
Why he’s sitting here on the edge of the bridge, moments away from casting himself down to his death? Some kind of repentance?
I refuse to accept that.
“ALEX WRIGHT!” I scream as loud as I can. “I am beyond pissed at you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I truly am, which is why I said nothing can fix—”
“I’m not finished!” I i
nterject. “You’re saying you only came to me in the hospital for what you did? That the whole volunteering thing was a lie?”
He looks down again. “Yes.”
“Was loving me a lie too?”
He frowns, clearly upset. “No. That was never a lie. My feelings for you are all as real as your shattered leg.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I don’t care about my leg. Or the accident.”
His mouth twitches as his lips part, but I won’t let him interrupt me.
“What’s done is done. Nothing can change the fact that this leg is in shambles.”
“Why do you think I wanted to help you? Why I wanted to make you happy?”
“So you could learn to forgive yourself.”
“So I could beg for your forgiveness one day,” he says, his voice fluctuating in tone. “But I fucked up. I kissed you. I fell in love with you. And then we had sex.” His eyebrows twitch. “It was so wrong.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I say. “It was everything I hoped it would be. My first time. And don’t you fucking ruin it.” I clench my fists.
“I went too far. I led you on without telling you the truth. This is what I deserve.”
Enough is enough. “Well, fuck you, Alex Wright! Fuck you, because if you jump off this bridge, I will never forgive you.”
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out, his brows drawn together.
“I don’t fucking care that you caused my accident. Yes, it’s a tough pill. Yes, it sucks that it was you. And yes, it sucks that you lied about it. You could’ve told me the truth earlier.”
He turns around, pulling one foot up onto the ledge again. “How? How in the world would I have done that? Hey, I’m Alex, nice to meet you, I’m the guy who caused your accident? No. Just no.”
“And you think telling me now is the better option? When you’re almost committing suicide on a bridge?”
“I’m not. I never said I was, and I never told you to come here.” He cocks his head. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“Well, it sure looks like it.” I put my hands on my side. “And that explanation isn’t any better, it’s worse.”
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