Crashing Back Down

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  There was no reply while I sat up and watched mindless infomercials until I finally fell asleep from the sheer exhaustion of our crazy day.

  In the morning, Cali and I woke up at the same time. We lazily cuddled in bed for awhile, talking about her game plan for when Kyle came home later on that day.

  “But, what if he refuses to leave?” I knew it was an odd question but it had been bugging me. I pictured myself having to go over to her house and beat up a freaking cop so he would leave my best friend alone.

  “He’ll leave. Once he knows, I’m sure it will be a relief for him to be rid of me and the burden.” She punched her pillow a few times, exaggeratedly groaning. “I’m going to head home and get his shit packed up so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

  I offered to go and help, but she declined, claiming that it was going to be her therapy session and needed to break things and cry alone. I understood, and knew that if it got rough or if she needed me, she would call this time; I made her promise.

  After Cali left, I sulked around the house for a while until my boredom took total control in Walker’s absence. Waking up without him on a Sunday morning used to be my only option. But I had become accustomed to having company, and warmth was starting to fill the emptiness again. I got out of my pajamas and made a little breakfast, deciding to clean the house up a bit.

  Since Walker really didn’t use his room anymore, I started in there and began to make it back into the guest room it used to be. I got the vacuum out of the hall closet and dragged it into the room. I collected all of Walker’s clothes out of the drawers and closet, and made room for them in mine, stripped the bed, put new sheets on and then began to vacuum. After passing the vacuum a few times under the bed, I felt it hit something light.

  I got down onto the floor and found a journal with Walker’s name engraved in the leather on the front. I sat on the freshly made bed, trying to convince myself to be respectful of Walker’s privacy.

  My concentration was broken when my cell vibrated in my pocket. There was a text from Walker shining on the screen:

  Sorry I haven’t been in touch, no service. We’ll be home in about four hours, maybe a little more. Can’t wait to see you too!

  I wrote a quick message back:

  OK see you soon, drive safe

  When my screen went black, I went against my better judgment and let curiosity get the better of me. I flipped the front cover open and read the date on the top of the first passage, realizing that Walker started it the day he and Randy got deployed. My heart started pounding and I skimmed through the pages until I found the day Randy died. Terror came over me as I read the passage of a story I was never supposed to read:

  Today the biggest mistake happened and I don’t know how I am fucking going to live with it. The plan completely went to hell. I am the one that was supposed to fucking be dead, not him. Randy and Mags were supposed to live happily ever after with me out of the picture, not seeing it any more. But now I am here stuck in this torturous hell of guilt, longing and shame. How will I ever look into her eyes again? She loves him, not me and that’s how it was supposed to be. Fuck! Why did he have to grab my chute?

  Once I finished reading the entry, I froze. And then puked right where I stood as what had just been revealed ripped through my heart. I fell onto all fours, sobbing and shaking. I grabbed my phone off the bed to see what time it was, realizing Walker would be home soon. I rallied all of my strength and forced myself to stand. Suddenly, adrenalin kicked me hard, forcing me into a fight or flight mode.

  I flew down the stairs and started to rip the daisies apart, tearing through them, screaming and crying. I kicked the vases everywhere, letting the glass fly, crashing and shattering. Water and flower petals flowed around my tile floor in the kitchen and I fell to my knees feeling the sharp shards piercing my skin and watched as little wisps of crimson ran away from my body in the water.

  I knelt there, sobbing onto the cover of the journal, still clenched in my fist when my phone vibrated again with another text:

  Be home in five.

  Panic started rising up through my whole body. What am I going to do? Who do I call? I ran to my room and dialed Cali’s number. “Hi, Mags! How’re you?”

  Her voice stung my ears, making me choke out the only words I can. “Walker killed Randy. It was an accident, but it’s his fucking fault. Walker will be home any minute.” Without another word I hung up on Cali, not knowing what else to tell her.

  I tried to stay calm. I sat on my bed, the journal in one hand, trembling, still wet and bloody from the floor of my kitchen. I hid my cell under my mattress. I wanted to be able to get to it if I had to. My mind flashed to Randy’s sweet face and then to Walker’s. I could not even start to wrap my head around what I had just discovered. There is no way that Walker could have done that. He loved Randy just as much as I did. They were like brothers. How does this happen?

  The pain was sharp in my stomach. The words of the passage ran through my mind over and over and it all clicked. Walker wanted to be with me, but knew I loved Randy, not him. Walker did it because he couldn’t be with me and couldn’t live without me. Walker tampered with his own parachute, but Randy got it by mistake. And it is my fault entirely.

  With these thoughts washing over me, I had to run to the bathroom. Everything was far too overwhelming for my body, and my stomach emptied completely. Right after I flushed the toilet, I heard the front door slam and Walker bounding up the stairs, calling up to me, but I couldn’t answer. I could hear him asking if I was OK and wondering what happened downstairs. I was frozen in the middle of my room, rage boiling, with the journal still glued in my grasp.

  I stood breathing shallowly; looking around at the space I used to share with Randy. It felt tainted now. I was shaking and could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My skin was burning. Walker got to my door and with a quick knock, opened it. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw my hand clutched around his memoirs.

  Walker’s glare raked me with freezing contempt and I froze, gaping at the man I thought I was falling in love with, the reality barely grazing the surface of my skin. I couldn’t let myself believe Walker living was the reason for Randy’s death. That this man standing in front of me, who had been living with me, comforting me, loving me, had been the culprit all along. Blistering hot rage coursed up from my belly. The more my mind thought, the more I wanted to kill him.

  He took a step towards me, eyes wide with terror, a kind of fear I had never seen on his face. “Mags, I can explain. It was all a mistake.” He took another step so I moved back, our eyes still fixed on each other. “Margret, when it happened I knew my new mission in life was to take care of you, Jim and Liz. It’s my fault he’s dead so I had to do what’s right.”

  I heard the words that were coming out of his mouth, but they were not registering, they just nipped at my ears. How dare he even think that he was doing the right thing. He was sick and messed up and I hated him. I swallowed and glowered, “I fucking hate you, you damn murderer!”

  And with my words Walker’s eyes became black and cold. His expression got shallow. His body grew rigid, every muscle flexed and hardened. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to know what he knew, what he did, what Randy’s last moments were like. I was standing toe to toe with the reason for all of my pain, the selfish choice that destroyed my entire world. The realization hit me, smacking me awake and I reacted.

  I lunged forward and jumped on Walker, hitting, screaming, and scratching. He wouldn’t hit me back, even though I was screaming at him to; calling him a pussy, a coward, a filthy murderer. He just blocked my fists from his face, trying to grab me, trying to restrain me but I was too quick for his tired body. He started to beg me to stop, to let him explain; pleading, pathetic. We wrestled on the floor for what felt like hours. I could feel his strong arms wrapping around me as I continued to scratch and squirm. When any part of his body got close enough, I bit down as hard as I could, breaking open h
is skin. His hand came close to my face and I grabbed it in between my teeth; he smacked me so hard with his free hand that I became dizzy. I could feel the hot liquid flowing between my injuries and his.

  I could feel my chest start heaving; it was hard so to breathe. My lungs were gasping for air. Walker scrambled off me and started to beg for me to takes lower breaths, to calm down. I became light-headed as he scooped me up into his arms from the floor, my eyes barely able to stay focused. My eyelids got heavier; I could feel my lungs aching for air even more and my throat started gasping. I could hear Walker’s voice trembling as he carried me through the house. “Mags, please stay with me, you’re having a panic attack. Please, Mags.” Tears rolled down his cheeks and landed on my face as he sobbed, rushing out the front door. “I’m so sorry, babe, I love you. You’re my true north. Please …”

  Dying was never a fear of mine, at least not after Randy did. If I died, then at least I would be with him again and I assumed that was my fate now. I could feel Walker picking up my body and carrying me, but I couldn’t fight, scream or resist.

  Right as my body started to get completely limp and my mind started to go black, I heard Walker pleading and crying more. “Mags, please stay with me. I love you. I can’t lose you too. Mags. Please.”

  I heard a loud bang and I assumed it was my neck breaking under Walker’s force, but there was no pain. In that instant, the pressure I had felt from Walker holding me vanished. My mind was slipping in and out. Finally, my nightmare was over and everything went black.

  The sound of the ocean waves rushing to shore, and sea birds squawking sang me awake. I could feel hot rays of a glorious sun glistening down on my face. I slowly opened my eyes to see one of the most beautiful white sandy beaches. I was lying on a lounge chair in my favorite pink bikini with a cold bottle of beer in my hand. The salt air filled my lungs and I felt completely at peace. My golden, sun kissed kin was soaking in the warmth. It felt like I hadn’t had a good dose of vitamin-D in decades.

  I closed my eyes again, taking in the moment. It seemed like I was alone in this paradise. The beach was just here for me, and I couldn’t help but be glad for the silence. I startled a little when I heard someone walking towards me. I rolled over onto my side to see Randy walking closer to me, shirtless.

  He took a seat at the foot of my lounge, with one hand on my leg. Sitting up, I hugged him as tightly as I could. He looked down at me, smiling beautifully and pressing his soft, warm lips to mine. We stayed embraced for what felt like a lifetime, but even that was not long enough. Randy brought my head down to his shoulder, running his fingers through my sea dampened curls.

  “There is nothing more perfect than this moment,” I whispered against his skin, as I kissed his chest. The smell of sweat and salt water was dulcet on his smooth tanned skin. A smell I would never be able to forget, it was so beautiful to me.

  Randy’s fingers slowly traced the bird on my hip, sending chills down my spine. Staring, he leaned closer to my ear, breathing softly, “Sooty terns are my favorite. So brave, spending almost all their lives out to sea. I’m almost jealous of them.” He laughed a little, still staring at the flying seabird on my skin. Just to hear his laugh again was breathtaking.

  “I’ll always love you. Promise, Promise.” His voice sounded so distant, even though he was sitting right next to me. As I looked up into the face of the man I promised to love until death do us part, I could see all the love in his heart pouring out through his eyes.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you too. Promise, promise,” I responded, pulling him in for one more kiss.

  We lay back on the lounge chair and Randy pulled me close to him, his fingers curling in my damp hair. I traced my fingers over the muscles on his stomach and chest, staring out at the beautiful ocean. Slowly, sleep washed over me like a calm, warm wave.

  I could hear a distant beeping sound, growing louder as I tried to stay in my perfect moment, fighting to stay asleep. My efforts were futile. I opened my eyes to the sting of a bright white light hovering overhead. I could hear Cali and my mother talking in hushed, nervous voices somewhere in the room. I tried to find them, but the light was blinding me. I choked out a cough. “Mom? Cal?”

  I felt cold, damp hands rest on my arm as my mother called to Cali, “She’s awake!” Her voice grew softer, kind and reassuring. “Honey, you’re going to be just fine. You’re safe now.”

  Rushed footsteps came crashing down the hall and into my hospital room. A man’s voice was over me, but the light made it impossible for me to make out his features. “Margret, I am Doctor Tuttle. You suffered a major panic attack and your body went into shock. You passed out from the stress, but you’re going to be just fine. We’re going to monitor your heartbeat and make sure it stays at a safe level tonight. You’ll be able to go home tomorrow.” The doctor’s voice was cheerful as he reassured me that I was never in danger of dying and that I would feel fine soon. He made a phone call to someone requesting my medication and dinner be brought to my room.

  Hot tears started running down my cheeks as I started to remember what had brought me here. Cali came over to the side of my bed, grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly. “Walker brought you here, Mags. He called me and your mom to come be with you and then ran away. None of us have been able to get a hold of him. He’s gone.”

  To my wonderful parents: Natalie Ann and Douglas Mazzola opened their home and hearts to a baby, unexpectedly and without thinking twice about it. I am so blessed and thankful to have them as my parents and to be brought such a loving extended family, it just is more proof that everything happens for a reason! I am continually reminded how many people truly love me unconditionally and unselfishly and I am so very thankful to know that kind of love in my life. I love you Mom and Dad for being the wonderful parents you didn't have to be!

  To my awesome random roomie: You have always been right there in my corner and have loved me no matter how crazy I have gotten at times. Thank you for going through this entire journey with me, the late night character development calls, the rewrite of the entire ending and helping me get Crashing Back Down to be the story it is today.

  To my Twin: You are amazing! Thank you for being my real life Cali and helping that character really take shape! And yes, your car does smell like cupcakes!

  To my heterosexual life partner: Most people will think that I am insane for putting that title in the back of my book, but who cares! You have always been my best friend, since our first sleep over as infants! I do not know what I would do without your unwavering support in my life.

  To my Beta readers: Grace, Jessica, Alyssa, and Kim! Ladies, thank you so much for helping me build the confidence in this book that I really needed to see it through. Your advice and encouragement was key in this process and I could not have done this without you!

  To my own true north: Michael James Burke! You are my everything and I love you with all my heart. Thank you for supporting my late night writing sessions, my constant ramblings about characters and plot problems, and for my lack of a social life for almost the last year. Your support and dedication to this project has turned it into something so much more than I could have ever dreamed! Thank you, Baby, for helping me see my dreams come true!

  And to my mentors in the Indie Author world, K. Pinson (Author of In Spades) and Brittainy C. Cherry (Author of The Space In Between): Ladies, Ladies, Ladies! You two have been instrumental in my confidence during this entire process. Without the two of you answering my stupid, newbie-author questions, I probably would have given up! Thank you for reading a rough, un-edited copy of Crashing Back Down and convincing me that it was worth putting out there! You two are amazing!

  Thank you for buying my debut novel. In doing so you have helped fulfill a very important goal of mine. From every purchase of Crashing Back Down, I donate to the Marcie Mazzola Foundation. The mission of the foundation is to "help better the lives of abused and at-risk children; and to build community awareness regarding t
he needs of children".

  The Marcie Mazzola Foundation was established in 2003 by my family. On July 6, 2002 Marcie died tragically in an automobile accident. Although she was only 21 at the time of her death, Marcie had experienced many things and touched many lives. She was a beautiful young woman whose inner beauty surpassed even her physical beauty because of her compassionate nature and treatment of others.

  At the time of her death Marcie was involved in a civil law suit against a school bus driver who sexually abused her when she was 11 years old. Prior to her death, it had been expected that the case would be won but since Marcie could no longer testify, it was going to be next to impossible to win. Marcie’s attorney met with her family to determine if the suit should be continued. He advised the family that Marcie had confided in him her intention to donate her entire award to help sexually and physically abused children if she won the case. Once this was known the family had no doubt that the suit had to continue.

  The attorney’s strong commitment to Marcie prompted him to proceed with the case, and against all odds it was won. Marcie’s estate was awarded a monetary settlement. With her attorney’s guidance and continued support, the family established a foundation as a tribute to Marcie’s life, which would continue her legacy to help children.

  To learn more about The Marcie Mazzola Foundation, please visit: http://www.marciemazzolafoundation.org

  Marcie Mazzola Foundation

  158 Burr Road, Commack, NY 11725

  phone: 631-858-1855 • fax: 631-462-8544

  email: info@marciemazzolafoundation.org

  Kristen Hope Mazzola is an up and coming independent author from sunny South Florida. Crashing Back Down was her debut into the literary world. Kristen is currently working on the rest of her Crashing Series, which will include a sequel, Falling Back Together, and a prequel, Walking Away. She even has a few more tricks up her sleeve, with more characters to introduce and more twists to unravel, so keep your eye on this talented young author!