I’d forgotten in the end, busy with the team and squeezing in a few hours of studying at the campus library. I felt like an arsehole, treating her to a magical evening and then seemingly ignoring her the next. She knew I was busy, but it still didn’t help the guilt I felt. I knew I had to make it up to her. It wasn’t just because I wanted to see her happy anymore; truth was, she was the one that made me happy. She was helping me get through my darkest moments without even realizing she was, and I planned to do the same with her.
Even though I tried to see it from a positive view, it was hard to shake the gloomy mood it had put me in. I passed the entire family in the living room, who were watching a re-run of the game on the TV, and greeted them by way of a grumble. Harper was there, too. I caught a glimpse of her smile just as it faded when she spotted me.
“Jesus, you’d think the team had lost, not won by twenty-eight points,” I heard Blake whisper not so subtly.
“Leave your brother alone,” Mum scolded. “You know how he gets when he thinks he hasn’t played the best he can.”
Dad said something after that, but I was too far away to hear. I climbed the stairs heavy-footed, like a heavy weight was placed on my shoulders and I was made to walk around with it, struggling by the time I reached the top of the stairs.
I shut the door to my room with force and then collapsed into my bed, burying my face in the pillow. One drink. One drink would be all it took to help take this away. It wouldn’t be much, and it was something I could hide from Harper, if she decided to come and check on me. She’s not coming. Why would she? You saw the look on her face when you stepped inside. You didn’t even acknowledge her! My mind hissed.
I felt my stomach drop; my brain was right. Why would she come after me when I couldn’t even be bothered to say ‘hello’ properly?
I had one last bottle of alcohol hiding away in a drawer. It was a bottle of rum; not exactly my spirit of choice, but I wasn’t in any mood to be fussy.
Standing up, I made my way over and rummaged through my drawers, desperately trying to locate the rum. Yes! I silently cheered finding it and realizing it was a large bottle. I wouldn’t drink that much, but it was a ‘just in case’ I needed more than a mouthful.
I cracked open the bottle and took a large swig. The bitter taste and burn in my throat was exactly the type of thing I was after. A warm sensation spread gradually, starting from my belly and slowly working its way to the outer parts of my body. I took another mouthful to help it move faster. I would stop as soon as I felt the numbing feeling all over, I told myself.
****
Bleary-eyed and unable to stand straight for even a short period of time, I somehow managed to tiptoe out of my room, down the hall, and then stopped outside of Harper’s door. It was locked. When had they gotten that fixed? Smart girl. Desperate to see her, I knocked and whispered out her name. When she didn’t respond, I knocked again. I had to apologize for not behaving the way I should have earlier. “Harper!” I whispered a little louder, fiddling with the doorknob. The sooner she let me in, the sooner I could tell her I was sorry, and then I could sleep.
Just then, the door swung open and a very irate Harper stood on the other side. I burst out laughing. She looked damn cute with her hair all over the place.
Her eyes flashed with anger as she stepped forward and glanced around the darkness. “What are you doing? You’re going to wake your parents!” she hissed.
“I needed to see you.”
“You’re drunk.”
I frowned. “No, I’m not!”
“You smell like you’ve taken a bath in rum and sat in it for days.”
“Can I come in?”
“No. Go to bed, Jackson. It’s two in the morning.”
“Do you hate me?”
I heard her sigh. “Of course not, but I am disappointed. Now, go to bed, please. We can talk in the morning, if you remember.”
I bowed my head in shame, turned, and stumbled away without saying another word. Harper did hate me. She was an actress; that made her an excellent liar.
Back in my room, I sat cross-legged on my bed with the wooden box opened on my lap. I stared at the front cover of the diary before slowly opening it.
As I flicked through the pages, a photo fell out; it was a close-up picture of Quinn and Harper at about twelve years old. Fuck, they looked so similar. The only difference was that one of them had slightly darker blonde hair; I just couldn’t tell which one. They were hugging and pulling faces into the camera. They both looked so happy.
Suddenly remembering I hadn’t cleaned up the rooftop from the other night, I jumped up and rushed up there, fearing it may be already too late and my parents had seen it. The plates and empty take-away containers were gone, the furniture had been pushed undercover and the pillows and blankets lay neatly folded in one pile. The screen had also been rolled up and put to the side. The only thing left were the lights, and there was no chance I was attempting that in my current state.
I made my way over to the outdoor bed, thinking I could rest a little while before tackling the lights. As soon as my body hit the mattress, I blacked out.
I woke from my sleep remembering I’d had a late-night visit from an exceedingly drunk Jackson last night. I was angry, but I’d told him the truth. I didn’t hate him; I was only disappointed. Disappointed that he had given in too soon. He had been doing so well.
I quickly changed out of my pajamas and headed downstairs to check to see if anyone was home before I attempted sneaking into Jackson’s room to talk. In the kitchen, there was a note on the bench.
Jackson & Harper,
I’ve taken Maddie to her dance class and will be gone until midday. Dad got called into work; he’ll be home much later.
Blake left early to go to a friend’s house. If you two go anywhere, please call him and ask when he will be home, because he left his house keys on the counter. I’ve put them next to this letter.
Also be careful, a storm is on its way over. MAKE SURE YOUR BROTHER IS HOME BY THEN.
Love, Mum.
Reading Aunt Juliana’s letter made me chuckle. She was the exact opposite of my mother. First of all, the Ice Queen would never leave notes lying around. She’d never give up her own time to take one of us to ‘dance’ lessons, and she certainly wouldn’t care to check the weather forecast and make sure we were all home safe during a storm.
I took the note but left Blake’s keys where they were and made my way back up the stairs so I could show Jackson.
I knocked on his door but there was no answer. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were still sleeping off his hangover. I knocked again before trying the doorknob; it was unlocked. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if I woke him up, especially since a storm was on its way and he had to let Blake know that he needed to come home.
The room was empty, except for two opened boxes and a book lying in the middle of his made bed. Where is he? I recognized the bigger wooden box as the one I’d seen the other night, sitting on top of his bookshelf. My eyes were glued to it as I stepped inside, eager to take a closer look.
I froze immediately as soon as I caught sight of the cover of the book. It wasn’t just any book; it was the journal that had belonged to my sister, Quinn. She was extremely upset the day she said she lost it during our last visit to Sydney. What was Jackson doing with it? And why did he have it locked away inside not one, but two boxes?
I snatched up the journal and opened it to the front page. A photo popped out. It was one of Quinn and me on set, goofing around during a photo shoot. I felt my legs wobble. I sat down on the edge of the bed as I continued to stare at the photograph, forcing myself not to cry.
It was our twelfth birthday the day after the photo was taken. To celebrate, a magazine had requested to shoot us in puffy, white party dresses and to write up an interview with the two of us. During the shoot, we got bored so we decided to play a trick on the photographer. When he walked out of the room, we grabbed his camera and began taking photo
s of ourselves. By the time he walked back in, we were finished and smiling at him as if we were perfect little angels. He found the photographs days later and sent them to our parents saying how much he enjoyed working with us. Dad thought it was hilarious, while Mom wasn’t too impressed and threatened to fire the nanny who was meant to be watching us during the shoot.
I found myself smiling as tears trickled down my face. I wiped them away and put the photo back, flipping through the pages of Quinn’s handwritten journal slowly.
I sat in Jackson’s room reading, laughing at the things she wrote about, the first boy she thought was ‘cute’, who happened to be one of Hawke’s much older friends, and all the mischief we got up to. It all brought back so many memories and reminded me of just how much I missed her.
Just as I neared the end, an entry caught my eye. While the other dates were decorated with spirals and drawings of hearts and flowers, this one was different. This one was filled with thick lines and heavy scribbling. It was as if she pressed the pencil as hard as she could and went over the same spot repeatedly. The rest of the entries that followed were in a similar pattern. Odd.
I began to read.
March 20th 2009
Dear Diary,
I don’t know how to write this. I don’t know how to explain what happened. I don’t remember everything. I think I blacked out. All I can remember was crying, feeling a sharp pain and then seeing a lot of blood in my panties after. It made me sick. I feel dirty and no matter how hard I scrub at my skin, the dirt won’t wash off. I’m sorry this is messy, but I can’t stop shaking. Harper knows something’s wrong, but I can’t tell her. He told me not to tell anyone or he’ll tell everyone what I did. I don’t want anyone to know, my family will hate me.
March 21th 2009
I told Mum I was sick today and I didn’t want to go to rehearsals, but she didn’t believe me. I cried all the way to the studios. Harper didn’t have to come today, only me. I wanted her to be there with me. Maybe if she were, he would see I wasn’t alone and he wouldn’t touch me again.
March 30th 2009
I nearly died today and I felt happy about it. I was hiding in my dressing room when he found me. He told me to take off all my clothes so he could love me better. That’s what he told me it was called, and that people do it when they are in love. He said he was in love with me and asked if I loved him. He hit me when I said I didn’t and made me say it before he told me to lie down while he took off his pants and inserted himself inside me. I tried to stop crying because he kept licking my face, but I couldn’t because my body was so sore.
When he finished, he told me to put it in my mouth because he needed help making it grow again. When it did, he put his hands on the back of my head and stuck it so far in that I choked. He had to stop because I kept coughing and he ran out of the room. When he was gone I just lay there, wishing I had choked because then he would leave me alone.
June 10th 2009
Mom left some of her pills out today. I stole them and tried some. I woke up not remembering anything. When Harper asked what I had, I told her it was candy that Sierra gave me and I didn’t have any left, but I did. She got really angry, but I still wouldn’t give her any; I needed them more than her.
I choked on the tears falling down my face. I felt like I was going to be sick, so I stopped reading. That disgusting man also touched my sister! When she was only thirteen!
Unable to handle reading any more of the perverted shit that bastard had done, I flipped to the last entry my sister ever put in the book.
September 2nd 2010
It’s our last day here in Sydney before we fly back home. We went to the beach with everyone. It was fun, but I saw something. And it has given me an idea. While we were in the water, I saw a lifeguard carry a man out; his head was bleeding very badly. I decided to follow them. He laid the bleeding man on the ground and told the other lifeguard that he’d hit his head on one of the rocks and he’d almost drowned. Drowning… That’s what I felt like I was doing right now. I had dreams about drowning all the time. Maybe I am meant to? Maybe if I did, Heaven would let me finally leave this world. I’d miss my family. I’d miss Harper the most. I hope they will understand and forgive me after they find out what I’ve done and that I wanted to do it. The only thing I know for certain is that I don’t want to be alive anymore. I hate this world. God, please tell them I love them and look after Harper for me.
I threw the book across the room and burst into tears. Everything. Everything I had ever known about my sister’s death was a lie. She didn’t accidentally drown; she had planned it. She wanted to die, and I wasn’t able to save her. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t do anything about it. I ignored her and because of that, she was dead. How am I supposed to live with myself knowing I could have prevented her death, and that I was responsible?
I jumped up and ran out of the room. My entire body aching with grief, and guilt, I continued running until I was outside, the rain falling heavily on my face and body.
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted me awake. I blinked, trying to recollect where I was and how I’d gotten there. The rain was bucketing down, there was lightning and thunder, and half the day bed was soaked, yet I’d managed to sleep through it all.
I slowly sat up, still feeling groggy from the alcohol in my system, and tensed when I saw a figure standing up on the balcony railing, with one hand on the side of the house to hold herself steady. Harper.
I shot to my feet immediately and ran over. “Harper! What are you doing?” I called out over the thunder and rain. My clothes were instantly soaked, but I was not worried about that; I needed to get her down from there.
“Why did you have Quinn’s diary, Jackson? What were you doing with it?” she shouted without looking. She sounded distraught.
I rattled my brain to try to understand what she was getting at when it suddenly hit me. Fuck! I’d opened the box last night and forgotten to put it back. It sat ready and waiting on my bed for Harper to see. She would have come to check on me. It was entirely my fault she found the book that way.
“I found it after she left it here. I’m sorry, Harper. I locked it away because I didn’t want anyone to see what was written inside. I should have told you.” I heard her heave another cry. “Hop down so we can talk about it. Please, don’t do this!”
“Everything makes sense now,” she started but trailed off.
“Harper, get down. Please!”
My heart beat a million miles an hour. I needed her to get off the ledge before she slipped and fell, or she jumped. I’d learned that Harper was unpredictable. She did things for attention; I was aware of that. But this was not one of them. I’d hurt her, and hurt her badly. I should have told her about Quinn’s diary the day she arrived like I had planned. But things didn’t always work out the way you wanted them to, and at first I didn’t want to give it to her out of spite. She was being a bitch and I felt like she didn’t deserve it, and then… and then I started to get to know her. Her true self was starting to shine through, and I didn’t want to ruin it. She was starting to be happy.
“She killed herself, Jackson! She killed herself because of what that bastard did!” she shouted against the wind and rain. “And it was all my fault! I should’ve begged her to tell me. I should have realized what he was doing to her!”
I used my arm to shield my eyes against the heavy rain and looked up at her. Think, Jackson. Think! How was I going to get her to come down? If she wasn’t going to come down willingly, I was going to have to force her. But that wasn’t going to be easy in this weather. What if I missed and accidentally pushed her? What if she slipped out of my grasp and fell? You can’t think of that! I took a deep breath before taking small, slow steps closer to the balcony ledge. This was it; there was no other way.
“It’s not your fault, Harper!” I shouted back, reminding myself to continue talking to distract her from what she was about to do. “You need to believe that! She wrote it r
ight there in the book. She doesn’t want you to blame yourself!”
“How can I trust you anymore? This whole time you lied! You knew what she’d done, and you kept it a secret from my family, from me! The one person I learned to trust and fell for, ended up hurting me the most.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, my arms dropping immediately by my side. I glanced up, unable to say anything; all I could do was stare. I couldn’t see her face; it was hidden by the strong winds that blew her long hair wildly around. She stood there barefoot with her arms out on either side, one hand clutched tightly to the edge of the house. Had I heard her right? She’d fallen for me, too? Whether she’d said the words, or not, it sparked a stronger desire to save her. She needed saving and I wanted to be that guy, right now and always.
“Quinn was right. She had nothing in this world worth staying for. And without her, neither do I.”
She’s going to jump! That was the last thing I remembered thinking before everything blurred. One moment, I was deciding the best way to get Harper down, next, I’ve barely got hold of her by the shirt and I was dragging her over the balcony while she was clutching onto me tightly. It all happened quickly and before I knew it, we were both crouched on the ground; Harper, a sobbing mess in my arms, while I buried my face in her neck and held her as tightly as I could. She’d jumped but I reached her in time, just in time.
My mind and body overflowed with every single emotion that left me unsure who was shaking more, Harper or me. I was terrified of everything happening around me, angry that she’d basically chosen to end her life so selfishly, and also thankful that I’d reached her in time and was able to get her over the balcony safely, knowing how close I’d come to losing her again.
All That Matters Page 19