by Gress, C. R.
Scarred
C.R. Gress
Copyright © 2013 C.R. Gress
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1494705346
ISBN-13: 978-1494705343
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my wonderful daughter, Deanna.
Always know what you want and go after it.
Don’t ever let anyone stand in the way of your goals and dreams and above all….
NEVER HAVE REGRETS.
This book is a written work of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain characters or places are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To all the girls at Hidden Treasure.
This book is for you.
Thanks for putting up with all my crazy antics.
Without you guys I would have never had the courage to write this book.
GOD,
GRANT ME THE SERENITY,
TO ACCEPT THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE,
THE COURAGE TO CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN,
AND THE WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE .
Preface
Life is a cycle; you are born, you live, you die, and according to some cultures, you are born again in. The sun rises and sets, and then the sun rises again. The seasons change from Spring, to Summer, to Fall, to Winter; and then it is Spring again.
My life has been an endless cycle of sorrow and pain; some of it has been self induced, while a lot can be attributed to fate or destiny as many believe. There are times where I feel like I will spiral out of control. Sometimes I feel like I am in a black hole; an endless vacuum with no light, nothing to hold on to, and no way out. The only option is to fight as much as possible to get out or be consumed.
I am not strong, I am weak. I have had to hold my head up high and stand proud for my entire life when all I want to do is crumble. I am tired of having to always be the strong one and pick up the pieces when what I really want to do is fade into the darkness. Please just let the demons take me.
These are my scars. This is my story.
CHAPTER 1
1991
“Hello”
“Aiden, I know we had plans tonight but I was wondering if there is any way we can change them.”
“What's up? I thought we were going to Scott's party.” Aiden questions.
“I know, but little Amy called and wanted to know if I could go with them tonight. It's big Amy's birthday and I haven't been out with them in quite a while.” I reply
“I really wanted to spend time with you tonight. You have been working so much lately it seems like I never get to see you. We are supposed to be on summer vacation but I haven't been able to spend any quality time with you since we got back from the beach after graduation.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“I know.” I sigh “But I promise I will spend all day with you tomorrow. I don't have to work so maybe we can go to the lake or something. Just the two of us.”
“Okay” he still sounds defeated “What do you guys plan on doing tonight?”
“Nothing much, just going out to dinner then probably to the mall shopping.”
“Oh well, since I'm not going to win this, you guys have fun and be careful. Tell Amy I said 'Happy Birthday' for me. Since you are going with them I probably will not stay at the party long. I'll call you when I get home.”
“You better behave at the party. You know everyone there will tell me if you do anything stupid.”
“Really? You know me better than that. There's not going to be much to do without you anyway. I love you and only you. We have too much to throw away over something stupid.” Aiden sighs.
“I love you too. I'll talk to you later.” I reply
A Ω A Ω A Ω
When I get home from a night of dinner and shopping with the two Amy’s I call Aiden's house, let it ring once and hang up. Waiting for him to call back, I doze off to sleep.
I wake from a horrible dream the next morning sweating from head to toe. My heart is racing and I realize I have actually been crying in my sleep. My face is streaked with tear stains and my eyes are puffy and swollen. I pick up the phone and try to call Aiden when I realize he never called last night. When a strange voice answers the phone I freeze. I ask for Aiden and the voice on the other end of the phone asks me to hold on.
After a brief pause Aiden’s dad answers the phone and asks me to please come to the house. The tone in his voice makes me weary, though he still hasn’t said anything was going on.
Racing over to his house, a million things run through my mind but none of them come close to the reality that I am about to face. As I pull into Aiden’s driveway, I notice it is full of cars and I will soon realize what true horror is. I walk inside to find Aiden but only find a few of his friends and family. They all appear to be grief stricken. My heart sinks as his dad comes up to me and pulls me into Aiden’s bedroom.
“Where’s Aiden?” I ask.
“Jordan, there’s been an accident.” He answers shakily.
“What? When? Where is he? Is he at the hospital? Which hospital is he at? I need to go see him?” I cry out.
“He is at Duke.”
“Then why is everyone here? Let’s go up there.”
“Jordan, we just got back from there. You need to sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down. I want to go to the hospital. What room number is he in? I’ll go there myself.”
“You can’t go see him Jordan.”
“Why not? Is he all right?”
“No Jordan, he is not. He rolled his car last night taking David home and we had to go to the hospital around four this morning. Aiden was thrown from the car and the injury he sustained when he landed caused his brain to swell. He was in a coma when we got there. The doctors tried to drill holes into his skull to relieve the pressure. Unfortunately it didn’t help and we had to make the decision to take him off of life support.”
I fall to the floor in a heap of trembling tears. My ears start to pound with an overwhelming headache building. I lay there on the floor for almost twenty minutes crying until my dad walks into the room to get me. I don’t want to leave. I am in his bedroom, in the bedroom I have spent so much time in over the last two years. I stand and look around the room while I try to steady myself. Walking over to his dresser I pick up the bottle of cologne and hold it to my nose.
Oh how I love the smell of this cologne.
Tears well up in my eyes again as I see my reflection in the mirror and catch a glimpse of the small bulge against my chest just hidden from sight below the neckline of my shirt. It is his class ring dangling around my neck on a chain. I reach behind my head and unhook the chain to release the ring and walk over to his dad.
“I think this belongs to you now.” Tears are flowing freely down my face as I choke on those words.
“Where did you get that? The hospital gave us his belongings and since it was not in his possessions we figured it was lost in the accident. We had planned on going out to the field tomorrow so see if we could find it.”
“I had it the whole time. He asked me to wear it as a symbol of our love until he was able to finish paying for the promise ring he put on layaway at the jewelry store.”
“Thank you so much for being honest. You could have kept it and we would have never known any different. We would have chalked it off as lost during the accident.”
“I would never hold something that important from you.” I sob. “Now, I really need to go. I can’t be here right now. There are too many pictures, too many memories and I can’t handle this right now.”
Jerry gives me a bear hug as he cries. I can feel myself coming undone and pull away from him.
“I’m sorry; I just can’t do this right now.” I mumble through my own tears and head for the door.
“Jordan, please call us later and let us know you are okay?” he calls from behind me. “You know you are like a daughter to us. You are always welcome here.”
I nod, though I cannot look back. Not right now. I stumble down the hall to the door as eighteen years of pictures stare down at me like angels watching over me. The last one, the most beautiful one, is a sixteen by twenty inch senior portrait that tears straight through to my soul as I walk out the door.
Dad drives me to home to mom’s house while my step-mom follows in my car. The entire drive I sit helplessly staring out the window. I have already cried so much I don't think I have any tears left in my body. Everything I look at seems a blur. Even though it is the middle of July and sunny outside, the world appears as a dreary haze on the ride to mom’s house.
As soon as we pull up in the driveway, mom comes out the front door after me and the water works start again. I don’t want to get out of the car, I just want to sit here and cry. Mom walks over, opens the car door and hands me a pill and a drink.
“Here take this; it will make you feel better.”
“What is it?” I ask through the sobs.
“Valium, it will help you settle down.” Mom explains.
“I don’t want to settle down; I want to go see Aiden. This is not happening. This isn’t true. You guys are all playing some horrible trick on me to keep me away from him.” I plead angrily.
“Oh honey, we would never do that.” She cries as she bends down to hold me in a hug trying to comfort me. “Let’s get you inside so you can lay down.”
Dad comes around the car to help me out and into the house. I stop in the doorway as I see the kitchen table and remember the last time we were together at that table. It wasn’t very long ago, last week, that we had sat there to eat. I think of the wonderful yet naughty things that had happened and run upstairs to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and falling into the fetal position on my bed.
A Ω A Ω A Ω
My mom has been feeding me Valium for the last three days in an effort to keep my emotions under control while I spend most of my time in the bedroom crying or sleeping, falling further and further into a fit of depression.
I really dread today after the wake yesterday. There were so many people. The line wound through the funeral home, out the door, and halfway down the block. Even though the wake was supposed to be from seven to nine at night, the funeral home accepted people until almost eleven. I went through the line the first time in a haze. I felt like my feet were not even touching the floor, like I was floating on a cloud or something.
I don’t remember much about going through the line the second time last night. What I do remember is in bits and pieces, like watching a slide show.
He’s lying in the coffin.
His face is so pale.
He is wearing a gray suit.
He doesn’t wear his hair that way.
Why is he wearing makeup?
I reach into the coffin and touch his hand. My body begins to shake and tears pour down my face.
He is so cold.
He is so still.
I lean over into the casket and kiss him on the lips. My body shakes uncontrollably.
I wake up in the middle of the night in my bed with no memory of anything since the kiss.
“Are you ready to go?” Amy asks.
“No. I don’t know if I can do this.” The tears are back.
“You have to do this, you need closure.”
“You have no idea what I need. What I need is Aiden. Here. Now. Alive. Breathing.” I scream. I am trembling now.
“Your mom told me to have you take this.” She holds out her hand and gives me a pill with a “V” stamped in the middle of it.
A Ω A Ω A Ω
There are so many people at the funeral that many have to hover around open doors at the front and sides of the church. I decide that I am better off sitting in the middle of the church rather than up front. That should take any attention off me; after all, I feel like I should be up there with him.
I find a spot halfway down and fall into a seat on the pew at the center aisle. I am so drugged it all seems like some dream, or nightmare, including the white fuzzy haze that stays in my peripheral vision no matter where I look. My body is numb and all I can really do is lean against the side of the pew and whimper.
The service is beautiful, considering beauty is not often synonymous with death, and many people speak their praises to the fallen young man. There is also a large census of staff from the high school in attendance; many of whom prepared a eulogy. Aiden’s parents comfort each other as the high school chorus sings a tearful rendition of “It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday” by Boys II Men.
Anger consumes me halfway through the ceremony when I realize that David is sitting in a wheelchair by Aiden’s parents. It takes everything I can to stop myself from stomping up the aisle and making a scene. His nose is bandaged from being broken and from what I understand he has extensive bruising across his chest.
He doesn’t belong here. He needs to leave. This is all his fault. If Aiden’s parents really knew David was driving and not Aiden they would not be sitting there beside him. They would be livid if they knew the truth. But, I know the truth, and I will never forget it either. One day he will pay for what he has done, if I have to punish him myself.
After the funeral the congregation waits for the casket to leave the church before we proceed to the gravesite for the burial. I wait patiently with Amy before we make our way outside. The vast graveyard looks like a concert venue with the amount of people here. I knew Aiden had friends, but not like this. This is crazy and during my lapse of judgment of the crowd, I manage to make my way too close to the actual grave. I hadn’t wanted to get this close in my state of mind but now that I am here, I will just have to wait it out. I do not want to appear callous and uncaring.
Once the majority of the mourners are congregated at the gravesite the Pastor says a few short words of “promise” and “future” before directing friends and family to place flowers on the casket. I, however, cannot make my feet move to follow through with it. I stand there, like a statue, holding a single white rose. I turn to Amy who is looking at me with such sorrow.
“I’m ready to go home now.” I say to her.
“Are you not going to go through the flower procession?”
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”
“Well out of respect, you stay here and let me go take care of both of our flowers. I’ll be right back.”
“You think I don’t have respect?” I question angrily.
“No that is not what I am saying. Look, Jordan, everyone here understands. You stay right here, I will be back in less than five minutes.”
I nod and hand her my rose. While waiting I look around the crowd at the different groups of people, each in their own state of mourning, when I notice David again. Rage bubbles once more and….
What is that awful smell? Damn, why does my head hurt so bad?
I open my eyes and look around. There is a nice lady standing over me.
“She’s awake!” she says and moves to make room for Amy.
“Oh, there you are. We were worried you hit your head on a gravestone when you fainted. Another minute and we would have called an ambulance.” Amy explains.
“”I’m fine. Just a bad headache and now nauseated from some foul smell.”
“Yeah, that is the smelling salts. It smells horrendous.” Amy says
“I need to go home.” I plead.
“Yeah you do. Buckle up and lets get out of here.” Amy responds and heads around to the driver seat.
“But, I really should go talk to…”
“You can do that later, or tomorrow. Right now I want to get you to
bed.” Amy says softly, “ Oh, and here, your mom gave me one to give you when you needed it. It looks like now is about that time.” Amy hands me another Valium and I swallow it without any drink. Time to return to “Never, Never Land”.
A Ω A Ω A Ω
Over the next few months as my mom works on weaning me from the Valium I realize that I get aggravated easier than ever before and that I am more quick tempered than I have ever been in my life. I also swear that I am hearing things, maybe I am going crazy. I have gotten so sick of people calling to check and see how I am doing that I unplugged the phone from the jack, wrapped the cord around it and threw it on top of my dresser. So maybe that doesn’t sound so crazy, probably not. What is crazy is that around one o’clock yesterday morning, that phone rang once. Yes it was still unplugged. I think I am being haunted. One ring was always the signal Aiden and I used when it was a late night getting home so that we could let the other know we were home okay without waking up the entire family.
Now who’s going crazy?
I cannot make it a week of not having any medicine to keep me calm before I decide to look for something to take my mind off of my sorrows. Everyone tells me that a little bit of weed is relaxing. Maybe that will help keep me on an even keel. I was never a pothead in the past so I have reservations but the people I know who do smoke weed every now and then don’t seem likely to go off and murder someone. Guess I’ll give it a try.
CHAPTER 2