by Garza, Amber
Jackson: I’m sorry.
I smiled, his words assuring me that it wasn’t over between us. And it made me feel silly for freaking out. Of course he wouldn’t break it off with me. We were too connected, too in love to throw it all away.
Me: It’s ok.
Holding my breath, I awaited his response. I prayed he would say he was on his way back.
Jackson: I hope one day you can forgive me.
His text confused me. Had he not gotten my last one?
Me: I already do.
Nothing. Minutes ticked by and he offered no response. Anxious, I tapped my foot on the ground. Unable to stand still any longer, I started walking down the hallway, holding the phone in my palm. It vibrated, and I paused in front of my parents’ room.
Jackson: Find me in the stars.
I inhaled sharply. Why would he say that? Confused, I lifted my head and my gaze landed inside my parents’ room. My stomach tightened. What the hell? The door to the safe was open. Heart hammering, I scurried to it and peered inside. The gun was gone.
My mind flew back to a memory of a few weeks earlier. Jackson and I were lying in my bed talking, and I was complaining about my dad. I mentioned how unimportant I was to him, citing how even the password on his safe was 0531, signifying the date he graduated medical school, not his own daughter’s birthday like I imagined most dads used. He was the only other person who knew that password other than my parents. And I knew they didn’t take the gun. They hadn’t even been home.
Did Jackson take it? And why?
Swallowing hard, I dialed his number. My arms quivered with terror as I brought the phone to my ear. When the phone went to his voicemail I groaned. Immediately I dialed again. After three tries he finally answered.
“Jackson,” I breathed out his name.
“I’m sorry, Piper. I’m so sorry.” He sniffed, his nose stuffy.
Was he crying?
“What’s going on? Where are you?” I shouted, racing toward the front door. Reaching down I picked up a pair of shoes near the door with my free hand.
“I did something awful. I wanted to tell you the other night when we were here, but I couldn’t.”
“What other night?” I asked.
“I told you that night that I’d live on forever in your heart and in the stars. Remember that. I love you, Piper.”
“No! Wait!” I cursed under my breath when I realized he’d hung up. The other night? Blossom Mountain. That had to be where he was. After slipping on my shoes, I grabbed my keys and tore out the front door.
Everything was a blur as I drove out to the mountain. My mind raced, my hands shook. When I reached my destination I was actually surprised to make it unscathed. After leaping out of the car, I ran as fast as I could up the hill to the place where Jackson and I had been the other night.
He stood with his back to me. The sky was dark, only lit by the moonlight. Relief swept over me at the sight of him. He was alive. He was okay. Before I could relish in it, Jackson’s hand lifted, the gun in between his fingers. He brought it up to his temple.
“Jackson!”
He whirled around, still holding the gun. “Piper?”
“What are you doing?” I stepped forward, the grass and leaves crunching under my tennis shoes. Wind whipped around me, kicking up my hair. It swirled around my face, the strands catching on my eyelashes.
“I killed him, Piper.” His lips trembled.
“Who?” My pulse quickened.
“Shane,” he said in a shaky voice.
Confusion clouded my mind. “What are you talking about? He killed himself. You said so yourself.”
“But it was my fault.”
I fought to breathe evenly as I took another step forward. “Jackson. Please just put down the gun and tell me what happened. We can work this out.” A part of me wanted to call the cops so they could stop him from doing this, but I knew that wasn’t an option. Not with the things he was saying.
He lowered the gun, but he didn’t put it down. He kept his fingers locked tightly around it. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to know that.”
“I do know that.” I kept my gaze trained on the gun. “You’re a good person. Of course you never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
“But they did get hurt, and it’s my fault.”
I glanced around, wishing someone would come and help me. But it was silent. We were on a mountain late at night. The rest of the town was in bed or sitting in their homes watching TV. I thought about all the nights Jackson and I lie in my bed together. God, I wished we could be doing that right now.
“Who are they?” I asked “You only mentioned Shane.”
“Bentley and Shane.”
“Bentley deserved it,” I said. “And you didn’t kill Shane.”
“I told Tyler and Zach he was gay, and they harassed him. Bullied him until he couldn’t take it anymore.”
I reeled back from the strength of his words. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths to keep from throwing up. I literally felt sick. Why hadn’t Shane told me the extent of what was going on? I had no idea it was that bad. I mean, I knew people were talking about him being gay, and I’d heard about the stuff on Facebook, but I didn’t have an account so I never saw it. Shane never acted like it was that big of deal when we spoke though. Then again, he’d sort of shut down to me lately. I figured he thought I was the one who told his secret. And I guessed I sort of was, only I didn’t know it. God, I hated Tyler and Zach. I hated this whole screwed up town. Hated all the narrow-minded, judgmental people. Why couldn’t they just allow Shane to be who he was? Why couldn’t they accept him? I wanted to hate Jackson too, but I couldn’t. I knew he never wanted any of this. He was a good person with a kind heart. He’d made a mistake, that’s all. When I opened my eyes, Jackson was lifting the gun again.
I held out my arms. “Jackson, please stop. It wasn’t your fault. It was Tyler and Zach’s. Not yours.”
“It was mine. God, I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Piper. First I beat the shit out of Bentley, and now Shane is dead because of what I said.” He shook his head. “I’ve changed, and I don’t like who I’ve become.”
“Jackson, you can’t do this. I love you. I need you.” I walked toward him.
“No!” He hollered, startling me. “Stay back. I have to do this. It’s the only way to end it. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“Jackson,” I whispered his name, a plea.
His finger lowered onto the trigger. Shit, he was really going to do this.
“I love you, Piper,” he said, pushing down further with his finger. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Without thinking of the consequences I lunged for him, my arms flailing out in an effort to grab the gun. My fingers connected with his arm and yanked down just as a loud popping noise filled my ears. So loud it was deafening. Jackson slumped forward, his body falling to the ground. I struggled to stay standing. Blood spurted from his chest. My body swayed, the earth seeming to spin on its axis.
“Jackson?” I dropped to the ground beside him, my hands touching his chest, his arms. Blood was everywhere. “Oh, God, what did you do?” Looking up at his head, I saw that it was unharmed. But there was a hole in his chest. Maybe when I yanked down on his arm I saved his life. I mean, a chest wound isn’t as bad as a head wound, right? I wasn’t sure that was true, and Jackson wasn’t moving.
I needed to get help, and I needed to do it now. When I started to stand up, my knee brushed the gun. I picked it up. I didn’t know why. Maybe because irrationally I worried Jackson would wake up and use it again to finish himself off. There was still hope he would make it. I shoved my free hand into the pocket of my jeans. Shit. Where was my phone? My head snapped back to my car. I must have left it inside.
Jackson still wasn’t moving. I didn’t have much time. With wobbly legs, I hurried toward my car. After a few steps, my toe hit something hard and stable. I was moving so fast I was unable to right myself. My body pi
tched forward. Holding out my arms, I hoped they would take the brunt of the fall, but they didn’t. I landed with a sickening thud, pain piercing through my head. Then everything went black.
Jackson
Do you ever think about where you go when you die? I never used to. I figured that was something I could ponder when I was an eighty year old man pushing around his walker. However, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I’ve thought about it a lot since Shane died.
It’s weird to know you are responsible for someone’s death. I mean, I know I didn’t shove the pills down the guy’s throat, but I might as well have. My words started the chain of events that led to his suicide.
If only I could go back in time and take it back, but life doesn’t work like that. We don’t always get second chances.
When I look in the mirror lately I don’t even know who the guy is staring back at me. Before meeting Piper I was different. Being with her changed me. At first I thought that was a good thing, but now I’m not so sure.
I beat a guy almost to death. And yeah, he deserved it. But still, I can’t get the vision of his face out of my mind, all bloody and bruised. I did that to him. It was my bare hands that inflicted that damage.
Then I let my jealousy of Shane drive me to act like a complete asshole to him, and now he’s gone. And I have to live with the consequences of what I’ve done.
However, I don’t think I can live with it anymore. The guilt is eating me alive. It’s poisoning my insides. I can’t think about anything else. And it’s destroying me.
I can’t stop pondering Romeo and Juliet, and I wonder if they did make the right choice. Lately I’ve been fantasizing about being them. About letting go. About closing my eyes and never opening them again.
Perhaps Piper is right and they went somewhere peaceful where they can be together. I like the sound of that. Peace is something I could use right now.
I can’t ask Piper to go with me. She needs to stay here and live her life. But it’s my time. I know that now. I’m ready for the guilt and shame to end. I’m ready to find peace.
If you are reading this, please know that I didn’t take this decision lightly. Please know that I didn’t want to leave you, but I saw no other choice. I hope you can understand, and I hope you can forgive me.
Parting is such sweet sorrow. That I shall say good bye till it be morrow.
Courtney
With a lump in my throat and moisture filling my eyes, I finished the last torn out journal entry. After tucking all the missing ones inside Jackson’s journal, I closed it with a loud thump. It sounded like finality. And as I set the journal next to my legs, it was like I lost my brother all over again. For the past two days I could almost pretend he was still here. Reading his words kept him alive for me. But now even the journal was done.
There were no more words to read.
And a part of me wished I’d never read it to begin with. I knew everything now, and it made me wonder why I ever desired to. Were we really supposed to know our loved ones most private thoughts? At this point I didn’t think so. Maybe that’s why he had hid them. Perhaps they weren’t meant to be found. Then again, why not throw them away? Why keep them at all?
My guess was that he didn’t want the police to find the entries, but he wanted someone to. I’d like to think that he hoped I would find them. That he knew I’d need closure and this was his way of giving it to me. But I knew better.
He had hidden them in Piper’s poetry book. And the secrets in the pages were just as much hers as they were his. Even at the end of his life he had been thinking of her.
Before reading the journal, I’d thought of Jackson as brave and strong. As a boy who loved life and loved others. I thought of him as kind and heroic. The boy in those pages wasn’t always like that. Sometimes he was jealous and irrational. Sometimes he was mean and self-indulgent.
Placing my hand over the journal, a sob tore from the back of my throat. Perhaps I was wishing for the wrong things. Instead of wishing I never knew what Jackson thought, I should be wishing that he had told me sooner. Maybe if I had listened to him that night when he tried to talk to me. Maybe if I hadn’t expected him to be the life of the party all the time. If I had encouraged him to be himself around me, would I have been able to stop him?
Looking back, I guess I did see signs that he was hurting. But then he’d turn on his famous charm, and I’d let it go. It was like I needed to believe he was all right. I’d grown to count on Jackson’s happy-go-lucky behavior. It gave me a sense of security, like when Jackson was okay then everything was right in my world.
But that wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t his job to make everything all right with me. He was always shouldering everyone else’s burdens, taking them on as his own. And in the end he cracked under the weight of it. If only someone had lightened the load. Would it have made a difference?
I guess I’d never know.
Wiping my face, I stood. My knees creaked. I’d been sitting so long my legs had fallen asleep. They tingled as I shook them out. Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around the journal and picked it up. Holding it, I traced the scratches on the cover. Bringing it close to my face, I inhaled. It smelled like Jackson, and my heart squeezed.
“Good bye, brother,” I whispered. “I love you.”
With tears blurring my vision, I swallowed hard and spun around. It was time to do the right thing. Jackson may have meant for Piper to find these entries, but she didn’t. I did. And I knew what I had to do. With deliberate movements I walked out of my room and down the hallway. My parents’ bedroom door was closed, so I reached up and rapped on it with my fist.
“Mom?” I called out.
“Yes, honey?” She sniffled.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
Exhaling, I turned the knob and pushed open the door. Mom sat on top of her bed, crying into a tattered Kleenex. There were a few more strewn on the bed near her thighs. Clutching the journal to my chest, I stepped toward her.
When I reached her, I held it out. “This was Jackson’s journal. Everything you need to know is in it.”
Her eyes jumped to mine. “Where did you find this?”
“In his room.”
“But the police went through his room.”
“I found it before that,” I admitted.
Betrayal flashed in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve given it to you right away. I didn’t know what was in it and I guess…” I paused, a sob breaking through my words. “I wanted a little more time with him.”
Mom’s face softened and she nodded. Then she reached for the journal. “Thank you.”
Nodding, I released the journal into Mom’s hands. It was hers now. I whirled around and left her room, leaving my brother’s last words behind.
Piper
It had been several years since Jackson’s death, and nothing had been the same since. So many lives had been changed, uprooted, tossed around. Tyler and Zach went to jail for what they’d done to both Bentley and Shane. Another girl came forward and admitted that Bentley had raped her too, so my parents finally believed me. I wanted to be angry that it took someone else’s word to get them to listen, but I was grateful for the validation finally. Legal action had been taken against Bentley, and for that I was thankful.
Courtney and I weren’t really speaking, but sometimes I would see her around town and she’d give me a sad smile. I knew she was processing her brother’s death the same way I was. In some ways I felt we were all responsible. I wondered if she felt the same way. Not that I’d ever ask her. I’d respect her privacy. I knew that grief was personal.
It was impossible for me to return to Red Blossom High after Jackson’s death, so I ended up doing my last couple months of high school from home. Jackson’s absence made life practically unbearable for awhile. There were days when I fantasized about joining Jackson. I wondered if maybe Romeo and Juliet was more than just our play. Maybe it was our destin
y.
But I couldn’t do it. Not after seeing the aftermath of both Shane and Jackson’s suicide. It seemed better in theory. The reality of it sucked. Lives were scarred, ruined. And the damage was final, irreparable. Not quite the peaceful solution I had dreamed it would be.
The past three years I’d spent more time alone than with other people. I’d wallowed in my grief, holed up inside my pain. But eventually I started to come out of it with the help of my parents and my therapist.
I was finally making other friends. Mrs. O’Connor directed me to a theatre group in a neighboring town, and I’d joined it this past summer. A few of the students there lived here in Red Blossom, and we’d started hanging out.
One guy kept asking me out, but I wasn’t ready for that. I figured I would be one day, but I needed more time. More time to mourn, more time to heal, more time to mature. I was finally getting to know myself, to find out who I was without my parents, or Bentley, or Jackson.
Looking back on my relationship with Jackson, I knew it wasn’t as healthy as it should have been. But I didn’t regret my time with him. I couldn’t. He was wonderful and loved me so passionately. Not only that, but I loved him too. And I was grateful for the time we had.
Tonight I drove out to Blossom Mountain. It was my first time here since the night Jackson died. I got out of my car and hiked up to where I’d last seen Jackson. I saw the place where he stood when he took his life. Glancing to my left, I saw the rock that I must have hit my head on. Taking a deep breath, I stared out over the town. I conjured up the feel of Jackson; his scent, his touch, his voice. And for one moment it was like he was here with me.
Lifting my head I looked up at the stars. They winked down at me, twinkling across the sky.
Find me in the stars.
Reaching up, I traced the pattern of them with my fingers, drawing invisible lines in the inky black sky. And I did find him. I found him in every sparkly light, in every nuance and glow. In the light, in the beauty, in the darkness. And I knew he’d always be with me.