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Breaking Karma

Page 17

by Charity Ferrell


  Keegan

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Daisy

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Keegan

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Daisy

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  About the Author

  Other Works by Charity Ferrell:

  Karma

  Revive Me

  Pretty & Reckless

  Stepbrother Aflame

  Bad For You

  Prologue

  I jumped at the sound of the second gunshot and smacked my head on top of the wooden desk above me. Covering my head with trembling hands, I tried to block out the noise, but the shots grew more erratic. They were close. I knew it because the screams were so clear. How was this happening? Things like this didn’t happen in our small town.

  My heart thumped against my chest so hard I was waiting for it to burst out and land on the dingy linoleum floor in front of me. I glanced to the girl next to me crawled into a ball with tears streaming down her face while her body rocked back and forth. Were we going to be next?

  Holding in a deep breath, I slowly stretched my arms above me and reached around until I felt the rough leather of my purse strap. I dragged it down and ignored the items flying out as it bounced on the floor. My hands frantically searched through the contents for my phone. I kept hitting his name on the screen when I found it until I heard ringing come alive on the other end. I had to talk to him. I needed to hear his voice and be sure the screams weren’t his.

  DAISY

  Chapter One

  High School Shooting Kills Twenty Students and Teacher.

  Those words were on the headline of every news channel, website, and newspaper until the shock value wore off and some celebrity got busted banging his nanny.

  Those eight life-ruining words.

  My brain processed them over and over again, but my heart tossed them out to the birds. That one sentence signified the dead end to my road of happiness. It shattered every ounce of hope built in my heart and then stabbed it a few more times for good measure.

  The most important person in my life had been ripped away from me by selfishness and pride. Rodney Avila. I’d remember the name until I took my last breath. He was upset that his girlfriend broke up with him. Out of spite and pure insanity, he decided to take his dad’s pistol with him to school. Heading directly to her first period class, he shot her and everyone else in the classroom. His homicidal spree ended with him turning the gun on himself, which was smart on his part, because if the spineless bastard were still alive I would’ve taken it upon myself to kill him.

  I blinked, fixing my eyes on the daunting building looming just yards away from me. My body shivered as the frigid raindrops showered down, soaking my dress, and causing it to cling to me like a second skin. The weather matched my mood impeccably: gloomy, cold, and depressed. My hair I’d spent hours on was now a sopping mess plastered to each side of my face. I couldn’t see it, but I was certain the black mascara my trembling hands had applied was now running down my face, alongside the never-ending tears, and leaving streaks down my stinging cheeks.

  Bodies veiled in black passed by my stationary body and headed towards the very place I was trying to avoid. A few bumped into me, but I was too numb to be affected. My body didn’t belong to me at the moment. The scrawny legs connected to my torso felt like they were glued to the slippery pavement beneath me.

  Out of habit, I reached up and caressed the tiny pendant dangling around my neck for what seemed like the millionth time that day. My icy hands moved back and forth around the chain sluggishly, letting the noise of the storm drown out the faint voices passing by.

  I knew what everyone wanted, and it wasn’t going to happen.

  I couldn’t do it, and I wouldn’t do it.

  They wanted me to come in from the downpour and see him. My eyes fluttered shut, deflecting the heavy raindrops as I inhaled the strong scent of rain surrounding me. If I did what they wanted, if I stepped through those brooding doors, I’d have to say goodbye to the person who still owned my heart.

  I swiped the tears from my face. This wasn’t supposed to happen until we were old and grey. It wasn’t his time, and I damn sure wasn’t ready to let him go.

  Chilly fingers wrapped around my arm and broke me away from my trance. My entire body flinched as I pulled away from the source and looked at the culprit standing in front of me. She was gripping a bright red umbrella in one hand, and her mouth was open wide, screaming at me.

  “Please listen to me! Go see him,” my best friend, Tessa, screamed at me, begging. “You’ll regret it the rest of your life if you don’t do this, Daisy. Please, just do it!”

  Her lanky hand kept reaching for me, but I did a childish game of pulling away. Being dragged across the pavement face down sounded better than coming to terms with the fact that I’d never be waking up from the nightmare that had now become my real life.

  My lips parted, but my mouth was incapable of forming words. I stood there and stared while her begging grew more frantic in an effort to gain my attention. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a larger pair of hands grabbed me by my waist firmly and hoisted me into their arms.

  "Let go of me!" I wailed, kicking my feet against him, but gaining no advantage. The rain poured down on us faster, and my eyes widened at the realization of where we were headed.

  No.

  Hell no.

  Hell to the fucking no.

  I screamed, kicked, and punched with all my will. Nothing. The more I fought back, the faster his pace picked up until finally my body quit producing the energy to fight. Whimpering, I laid limp in his arms, ready to give in to the inevitable. Warm air hit my face and I twisted around, burying it into the crook of his neck to hide from the curious looks coming our way. I didn’t look up until I heard the loud creak of a door opening and was tossed onto a cold couch in the corner of a dusty room.

  “Get your head out of your fucking ass,” a dripping wet Dawson sneered over my shaking body. His black suit was wrinkled and soaked to his body.

  I winced at his words, but it helped loosen the tongue that had been tied for days. Sure, the person standing in front of me might’ve been my dead boyfriend’s best friend, but his hurt could’ve never matched mine.

  “Screw you, Dawson!” I cried out, struggling to control the shakiness in my voice. “Don’t you dare try to tell me what the hell I should do!” I tugged on my frizzy locks, pulled them together, and slid my hands down them roughly to wring out the water.

  “Well, shit, Daisy,” he yelled back, bringing out both hands and gesturing towards me. “Someone needs to say something. You’re about to miss the entire funeral because you’re being fucking selfish!” He paced back and forth in front of me. “How do you think Tanner would feel about how you’re acting?”

  He stopped mid-stride and narrowed his eyes at me. My heart dropped at his name, but I knew Tanner would’ve understood my reluctance. The man I was in love with would’ve grasped my hesitation, aware of how hard it would be for me to see him like that.

  Dead.

  In a casket.

  That wasn’t the last image I wanted to remember of him. I wanted to treasure our last goodbye – when he kissed me in the hallway and told me how much he loved me.

  I jumped to my feet, leaving a wet spot on the couch behind me. “Don’t try to tell me how Tanner would feel,” I replied, my voice harsh. “I’ve known him my entire life. Since the day I was born!” I paused to swipe away a drenched piece of hair from my eyes. “You’ve knew him for what?” I stopped, waiting for him to answer my question, but he stayed silent. “Four years! So you can shut the hell up!” A shaky finger stabbed him in the chest at my last word.

  My emotions had been on overdrive since everything happened. Not one word I said processed through my brain before I allowed it to leap straight out of my mouth and into the open. It was a low blow. Everyone, myself included, knew that Tanner loved Dawson l
ike a brother. They were best friends, and I was a shitty person to devalue their friendship.

  My chest heaved in and out, my breathing growing shallow. Dawson and I stood face-to-face, having a stare down, neither one of us making a move or spewing out a word in our defense.

  He was the first to give up at the exact moment his eyes began to glaze over. Shaking his head, he threw up his hands in defeat and shuffled backwards, away from me.

  “Wow,” was the only word that came out of his mouth, but it was enough to let me know that I’d stepped over the line and his patience with me had been extinguished. He whipped around, opened up the creaky door, and slammed it shut behind him.

  Regret crashed through me as I belatedly took in what just happened. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the carpeted floor. My body tensed up at the feeling of someone falling down next to me, wrapping me in their hold. I shook my head in embarrassment, and she pulled me in tighter while we both attempted to let our hurt out together.

  I cried for the person I lost. I cried for his family and the best friend next to me who lost her twin brother. I cried for the other families who lost a child, a brother, a sister, or a friend in the shooting. I was certain my tear ducts were close to falling out from excessive flooding.

  “I miss him, too,” Tessa said. I’d lost my first love … she’d lost her twin brother. “We’ll get through this together.”

  A soft knock came from the other side of the door. It crept open before I had the chance to tell the person to go away. My mom appeared in the doorway and shut the door behind her. The first thing I noticed was how her red, puffy face fell when she took in the scene in front of her. Her knuckles flinched, clutching the tissues that were balled up in her hand as she let out a light whimper.

  Tessa was the first to get up and then reached out to help me. I stood up and ran my hands down the length of my dress, trying to rid it of wrinkles, but it didn’t help. It was ruined, but I didn’t care. It had a scheduled meeting with my fireplace as soon as I got home.

  The sound of my mom clearing her throat broke through the uncomfortable silence. “Sweetie,” she said softly, looking straight at me. “They’re getting ready to start the service.”

  My eyes immediately dropped to my shaking hands and studied the chipped, pink nail polish on my fingernails. I gave her a slow nod. Nodding and shaking my head had become my regular form of communication since that day. I’d practically become a mute with the exception of the bitchy outburst I’d given Dawson.

  “Okay,” I mumbled, drawing the word out. “Can you two just give me a minute alone, please?”

  “Of course,” my mom answered, squeezing out a fake smile. “But you only have a few minutes. Make it quick.”

  Turning around, she left the room. Tessa briefly squeezed my hand and followed her out, closing the door behind her.

  With the room empty, I stumbled back towards the couch and dropped down onto the hard cushions. My fingers were still shaking as I fished out the damp, folded paper from the pocket of my blazer. I swallowed the nausea creeping its way up my throat and carefully unfolded the note.

  Tanner,

  This is the best way I knew to tell you goodbye. I hope that’s okay. I remember you always loved the letters and notes I’d write you during our free periods. I even decorated the corners with tiny hearts like I did when we were in middle school. I wanted you to be the only person to hear my goodbye, not all of those people sitting in the room. This is our goodbye, just for the two of us.

  I’ve spent all of today missing you, and I know that’s how I’ll spend tomorrow, and the next, and the next. I don’t know how I’m going to get through everything without you by my side. I’ve never had to do anything without you, and I’m terrified. I’m scared. God, I’m so, so scared.

  All of our plans, our dreams, have been ripped into shreds and thrown into a blazing fire. I can’t stop thinking about all of those talks we used to have planning our future. Our huge wedding in your parent’s backyard before our honeymoon in Tahiti and the four kids we were supposed to have. You know they would’ve been a handful, but you would’ve been an amazing father. And husband. We were supposed to have a great life together.

  Everyone keeps telling me I have to move on with my life, but I have no idea how to even start. I remember when I first told you I loved you, you told me, “There’s no taking it back.” I never really thought about how much those words meant to me until now. I’ll never take them back. You’ll always have my heart.

  I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would. I can’t wait until I see your smiling face when we meet again.

  Love always,

  Daisy

  The words grew blurry as I dragged my finger across the paper as I quickly folded it back up and secured it in my pocket. The heels of my shoes sunk into the carpet as I lifted myself up and tried to mentally prepare myself for what was about to happen.

  I was seventeen years old and about to say goodbye to the love of my life. I’d been shattered to pieces, and I knew the shards would never fit back into the same mold. But me breaking wasn’t the hardest part. No, that wasn’t it. The worst part was that even though I didn’t pull the trigger, I could’ve stopped the bullet from hitting him.

  Chapter Two

  5 Months Later

  The voice blared through the speakers above my head and woke me up from my sleepy haze. My mouth opened wide in a yawn, and I wiped the dried-up slobber from the side of my face. Reaching my arm behind my back, I struggled to massage the heavy tension spreading from my neck down to my back. The pill I’d taken earlier to help me relax was beginning to wear off, causing my anxiety to resurface.

  God, I loathed flying.

  Admittedly, it was only my second time doing it, but my first time alone. Tanner had been by my side last time, holding my hand, and distracting me from my crazy, paranoid thoughts. Let’s just say I’d watched The Final Destination one too many times.

  Quick fact: I absolutely, with every fiber in my tiresome body, hated heights. Memories rushed through my mind of the time Tanner had somehow convinced me into going cliff diving at Lake Monroe with him and our friends. The name alone sounded painful, but I was so proud of myself when I made it to the top of the cliff.

  It was a different story, however, when it was time to do the actual jumping part. I did the wrong thing. I did what everyone tells you not to do. I looked down. My feet locked up, instantly changing their mind about sending my body tumbling down a cliff and to its doom. Tanner ended up having to carry me back down.

  My eyes squeezed shut. Why were my memories of him so bittersweet? I wanted to bear hug them, but strangle those bitches at the same time. They gave me instant gratification, but also broke me down.

  Needing to get my mind on something else, I fetched my backpack underneath my seat and pulled out my iPod. Music seemed to be my coping mechanism lately. My foot tapped gently against the ground as I unwrapped my headphones and stuck them into my ears. Just as my finger was ready to tap the play button, a stern voice stopped me.

  “Excuse me, miss.” I looked up to see an older flight attendant giving me a generic smile. “All electronic devices need to be shut off at this time,” she instructed, in a robotic voice. I nodded in response, dragging the headphones out of my ear. So much for that idea.

  They’d completely shut down our school as a crime scene the day after the shooting, giving us summer break to mourn, and then transferred us into neighboring schools across the county. Everyone knew what happened to me at my new school. The hushed whispers and pity stares following me down every hallway drove me senseless. But they were nowhere near the humiliation of breaking down in full panic attack mode during class in front of everyone. Multiple times. One second I was calculating Algebra problems. The next I was a sobbing mess, cradled into a ball in my chair. After the fifth attack, the whispers turned into insults. Freak, weirdo, crazy. I’d heard them all.

  Somehow, I’d managed to
survive two long, excruciating weeks before I refused to go back. In actuality, I refused to do almost anything. I wasn’t eating regularly and had become a recluse on autopilot.

  Every person in my life had gotten cut out while I spent my days hidden away in my bedroom. Phone calls and texts went unanswered, even Tessa’s. I tried to keep my promise of being a strong shoulder for her to lean on, but I couldn’t stand to be around her. She was a constant reminder of what I’d lost. Every time she was around, the knife lodged into my heart would twist another inch deeper.

  And my poor parents, they tried everything. They sent me to the local therapist in town who attempted to get me to open up and allow myself to heal. I wasn’t ready to do either of those things. What Tanner and I had together was something special that belonged to the two of us. If I told other people, that’d be like handing over another piece of him, and those pieces were already dwindling down day by day. I didn’t want to be the person dragging my family down the road of depression with me, but I wasn’t sure how to hit the brakes and heal.

  Four nights ago, my dad had called me down to the living room. A trace of nervousness followed me down each stair. I spotted my mom first. Tears were pouring down her porcelain face. Her fingers were latched around my dad’s, whose face was void of any emotion.

  Uh oh. Not good.

  He motioned to the chair across from them, and I took that as my cue to sit down.

  He cleared this throat and leaned forward, planting his elbows on his kneecaps. “Your mother and I have been talking,” he said. His tone was the one he used when he was sporting his Sheriff uniform, and I knew whatever he was about to say was serious. “We think it might be a good idea for you to get away from here for awhile.”

  Whoa. My head shot up, and I felt like someone had sucker punched me in the gut. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to elaborate before I started screaming out my refusal.

 

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