Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded

by Ashley Royer

  “Can we see her?” I ask quietly.

  “Family only.”

  The doctors bring Delia’s parents to her room. I watch them walk down the hall and turn down the corridor. I wish I was down there too.

  “Why don’t we go home and come back in the morning? Get some rest, maybe,” my mum tells me.

  “I want to stay here. I want to be here when she wakes up. I can’t leave her.”

  I’m trying not to cry. I need to see her. I can’t stand waiting. I bounce my leg anxiously and bite my nails.

  “She’ll be fine, I promise,” my mum says.

  “But how do you know?”

  My mum says nothing.

  Delia’s dad comes out when police officers show up. They explain that they were investigating the accident. I overhear them saying they looked at Delia’s phone, suspecting that could have been a cause of the accident, as it is for a lot of people. The screen had a text that said “be there in” but it was never finished.

  It was addressed to a boy named Levi.

  “No, no, no, no,” I whisper once I hear my name. I break down sobbing in the middle of the waiting room. A doctor comes over and asks if I’m all right.

  My mum answers for me and says I’m fine.

  But I’m not fine.

  I’m the reason Delia got in an accident. I’m the reason she’s in this hospital.

  She shouldn’t have even been driving alone. She wasn’t fully licensed; she wouldn’t be for a year. We lived so close, Delia probably thought it would be okay. But it wasn’t.

  “I can’t be here right now,” I tell my mum, leaving the waiting room quickly.

  She follows me down the hall, calling my name. She reaches out for me, but I push her away.

  “Just get away!” I scream. “I need to be alone right now.”

  I walk through the silent corridors of the hospital and pass by rooms with sleeping patients. I’ve always hated hospitals. I hate the sanitary smell, I hate the depressing colors, I hate the pictures that line the walls.

  I end up sitting down in the middle of the hallway, crying uncontrollably. I can’t seem to stop.

  “Excuse me, is everything okay?” I hear someone ask.

  “I’m fine,” I manage to say.

  I hear the person walk away.

  At some point, my mum finds me. Everything seems to be going by in a blur. I don’t know how much time has passed.

  “They’re moving her to ICU,” my mum tells me, sitting down beside me on the floor.

  “Why?” I say in a barely audible whisper. I can’t look her in the eyes.

  “Her condition is worsening.”

  “Can I see her yet?” I beg.

  My mum shakes her head no. It looks like she’s been crying too.

  I can’t remember the last time I cried this much. I feel like I’ve been crying for years. I feel like my whole world is crashing down around me.

  We head back to the waiting room, which seems even quieter than before. A nurse walks over to us, and I get hopeful that I can finally see Delia.

  “Are you Levi?” she asks me.

  I nod quickly.

  “I was with Delia before her surgery. She asked if she could make one call, I think it was to you.”

  “What?” I ask, confused. She chose me to call? I don’t know how to respond. “Did you hear what she said? I don’t have my phone, I left it at home,” I say. I can’t believe I left it at home.

  She shakes her head. “I think you need to hear it for yourself. I’m sorry.”

  All I keep hearing tonight is “I’m sorry.”

  She walks away, leaving me wondering. I debate going home just to get my phone, but I don’t. I can’t leave. I have to stay here.

  Delia’s parents come and go between the waiting room and Delia’s room. They’re sent out whenever something happens. They’ve been in the waiting room for a while with no signs of any doctors, which is starting to worry me.

  After a blur of chaos, a doctor comes out. Delia’s parents, my mum, and I all stand up expectantly.

  “I’m sorry,” he starts off.

  I feel my stomach drop.

  “Delia’s head injury was more severe than we thought. She suffered major swelling, which can happen a few hours after an accident.”

  “Is she okay?” I whisper, even though I know the answer.

  The doctor shakes his head. “I’m sorry. We tried. But she didn’t make it.”

  Delia’s parents hug each other, and both of them are crying. I run out of the waiting room in the direction of the exit. Again.

  “Levi!” my mum calls.

  “She’s not dead. She’s not dead.” I repeat, over and over.

  My mum grabs my wrist, causing me to stop walking. I whip around to face her, tears staining my cheeks.

  “She’s NOT dead!” I yell. I pull away from my mum’s grasp. I’m breathing quickly, and my chest feels tight. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

  “Levi, you heard the doctor. I’m sorry.”

  There it is again.

  I shake my head over and over. My mum pulls me closer to her, and I can’t stop crying.

  “Do you want to see her?” my mum asks.

  “Not unless she’s alive,” I say, a little more harshly than I should.

  My mum tries to comfort me, but it’s not working.

  “She’s dead. It’s because of me. She was texting me,” I choke out.

  “It’s not because of you, don’t think that.”

  “But it is!”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “How can you say that?!” I yell, pulling away from my mum.

  She doesn’t respond.

  “The text was sent to me. I am the reason she looked away from the road,” I whisper.

  “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

  I turn around and keep walking toward the exit. It could’ve happened to anyone.

  It happened to us.

  “I never told her I loved her,” I choke out. “And now I’ll never get the chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  DELILAH

  After much contemplating, I decide to go to Levi’s to talk about everything that’s happened over the past few days. The project, what Aiden told me, and basically everything else.

  Whatever we even are, whether it’s friends or just neighbors, I can’t keep wondering anymore. I hate all the confusion involved with Levi. Whenever I think I have a piece of him figured out, it seems to be the complete opposite.

  I hesitantly knock on his front door, and his dad answers.

  “Hey!” he says cheerily, letting me inside.

  “Is Levi here?”

  “Yeah, in his room.”

  I walk slowly to Levi’s room. I’m not sure what I’m going to say, or what it will even be about. I’m regretting coming here in the
first place.

  His door is slightly open, and as I’m about to knock, I hear someone talking.

  “Hi, Levi, it’s me.”

  It’s a girl’s voice. I stand outside the door, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. It sounds like a phone call, but through the crack from his open door, I can see Levi holding his phone in front of him. Maybe he’s video chatting someone. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with his legs pulled close to his chest.

  “I was on my way to your house, but I got in a little accident. I’m okay, though,” the girl continues.

  Who was coming over?

  The sound is muffled, then I hear, “I, um, I just really wanted to talk to you and I—”

  The girl stops talking, and I see Levi toss his phone onto the carpet. He puts his head in his hands, and I think I hear him crying.

  That’s when I realize who was talking. It wasn’t a phone call, but a voice mail.

  I think it’s Delia.

  I debate turning around and giving Levi some time alone, but he stands up and sees me in the hallway. He quickly wipes his eyes and slowly opens his bedroom door.

  “Hi,” I say quietly.

  He nods slightly.

  “I can go. I’m sorry, it probably isn’t a good time right now, I just—” I stammer.

  He grabs my wrist and pulls me into his room, shutting the door. He sits down on the floor and taps the spot beside him, gesturing for me to sit there, so I do. He twiddles his thumbs, and he won’t look me in the eyes, like always.

  “Was that from Delia?” I ask after a long silence.

  He slowly nods his head.

  “Have you listened to it before?”

  He shakes his head no, which I expected.

  “I can leave if you want to listen to it.”

  He shakes his head and reaches over to grab his phone. He puts it in my hands and points to the play button.

  “You want me to play it? Are you sure? Don’t you want to be alone?”

  It seems unlike Levi to want me here when something like this is happening. Whenever Delia is brought up, he shuts down. I thought he’d be doing that right now too.

  He keeps pointing to the play button, so I finally press it. It starts all over again.

  “Hi, Levi, it’s me.” I really feel like I shouldn’t be here now. Levi winces at the sound of her voice. Now that I can hear the recording more clearly, I notice it sounds like she is having trouble speaking and trying not to cry.

  “I was on my way to your house, but I got in a little accident. I’m okay, though. I don’t really remember getting into it—I just remember driving to your house, but not how I crashed. I, um, I just really wanted to talk to you, and I’m about to go into surgery. I wasn’t supposed to call you, but a nice nurse is letting me.” She tries to laugh, but it’s quiet and sounds nervous. She talks slowly and gets her words mixed up sometimes. Some of the things she says are pronounced wrong. It’s evident that she’s suffering from the accident. “I wanted to get some things off my chest, in case it’s a long time before we talk again. I am in a lot of pain and I heard the doctor say that I’m in rough shape. My head is hurting right now, but I’ll try to get my thoughts out. I was coming to your house to say I’m sorry. These two weeks have been the worst two weeks. I miss talking to you and laughing at your stupid jokes.” She laughs again. She coughs a little this time. This is almost too much for me to hear, I don’t know how Levi is listening to this without breaking down. I didn’t know Delia personally, and I’m getting upset over this.

  There are long pauses between her sentences, and I can hear her continuously take deep breaths. “I made a huge mistake. I should have never broken up with you.” There’s muffled talking in the background; I assume it’s doctors. I start to notice the faint beeping of machines. “The doctors are coming right now. I’ll see you later. I hope this is a promise I can keep, Levi. I’m not gonna say good-bye, because I don’t want to.” Her voice cracks. “I’m scared, Levi.” She coughs. “If I don’t make it, I want to tell you I love you, Levi. All I want is for you to be happy. I hated seeing you so sad these past few weeks—it broke my heart. You should know that I was just as sad. If anything happens, please do that for me. Do what makes you happy. Don’t be sad. I’ll see you soon. Bye. I love you.”

  The voice mail ends, and I don’t say anything. I look over at Levi to see how he handled it. He’s staring straight ahead like a frozen statue. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. I reach over and put my hand on top of his in an attempt to comfort him. He looks over at me slowly, and his bottom lip is quivering.

  He slowly shakes his head, still crying, and looks down at my hand on top of his. He puts his other hand on top of mine and brings it onto his lap. After a moment, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper. He gently tucks it into the palm of my hand, then closes my fingers around it.

  I open it up, and it’s the picture Lucy drew of Levi. I wonder how long it’s been in his pocket.

  He flips the paper around, and on the back side, Lucy had written “Happy Prince Levi.” She drew smiley faces, hearts, and flowers all around it. We both just look at it for a few minutes.

  “We all want you to be happy,” I tell him.

  He bites his bottom lip, and it looks like he’s on the verge of a whole new set of tears. He picks his phone up off the ground and types for what feels like forever. I’ve never seen him type so much. Whatever he has to say must be important. When he’s done, he passes the phone over to me.

  I read everything he wrote. He explained what really happened to Delia, and it looks like he didn’t leave out any details. I start crying halfway through. I didn’t realize this much had happened. He had told me she died instantly, but that’s clearly not the case. Instead, it is the saddest thing, and not what I had expected at all.

  He also wrote what he had gone through after the accident. He didn’t immediately stop talking. It happened after the funeral. At first, it was just because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. But then, after a few days, he didn’t want to talk to people ever again. He felt guilty, and in a way he was punishing himself. He wrote, “Delia died because she was texting me. If Delia didn’t get to talk, I didn’t want to either.” So he hasn’t.

  He went to multiple therapists; he had a new one every few weeks. Nothing helped. He was forced to go to group teen therapy sessions, which he hated, because he didn’t talk, obviously. He had nothing to say, so it didn’t help much. After three months, he was sent to a facility in Sydney that was guaranteed to help him. All it did was make him feel more different and alone. After almost a month there, he went back home. Nothing changed. He progressively got worse.

  That’s why they sent him here. It’s apparently his last chance to improve. Doctors said there’s nothing else they can do for him. Levi has to make his own choices for himself in order to get better. They wanted to separate Levi from everything that was making him upset and anxious. Moving here with his dad was one of his best options.

  I didn’t know Levi had gone through this much in such a short amount of time. His whole world just stopped. He lost someone who was clearly very important to him, and he’s now living
on the total opposite side of the world.

  He’s had to adjust to so many new things. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him.

  As I take everything in, I’m shocked Levi’s told me so much about what’s happened to him. I guess at some point, everyone has to let out their emotions. They can’t hold them in forever.

  When I’m done reading, Levi lets out a shaky sigh. He wipes the tears from his cheeks, and he also wipes off mine. I laugh lightly, reaching up to dry my cheeks too.

  “Look at us, we’re both crying,” I tell him. “We need to do something that makes us happy now.”

  He points to me.

  I tilt my head to the side and look at him, puzzled.

  He points to me again then to himself. He gives me a silly grin through his tears and points to his smile.

  I make him happy.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  LEVI

  I didn’t expect Delia’s message to be like that. I especially hadn’t expected her to say she loves me. I never got to say it back, and I never thought I’d hear her say the words.

  The message made me feel somewhat better, and somewhat worse. There were positive parts and negative parts. Overall, though, I feel very sad. Although, it’s kind of like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For months, I’ve been dreading listening to that message, but I finally did it. I heard her voice again for the first time in months. Even though it didn’t sound like the normal, happy Delia, it was still her. She said all that. In her last few hours, she wanted to talk to me. That means a lot. This whole time I had been thinking she might still hate me, but now I’m reassured that she really did love me like I loved, and still love, her.

  After Delia died, I spent weeks in my room, barely ever getting out of bed. I physically couldn’t bring myself to do anything. Getting out of bed became a struggle every day; it was like my body hurt to drag itself up. All day, my thoughts would be totally consumed by Delia. It came to the point where I wanted to stop myself from having any thoughts at all, which is practically impossible, because even when you’re trying not to think, you’re still thinking. I just needed everything to be quiet. I didn’t want to speak, I didn’t want to think, I didn’t want to do anything. It was a vicious cycle of my mind attacking me and ruining me, followed by my mum trying to solve things.