Who Can Really Blame You?

“Ains?” Talia asks quietly. I glance away from my folded hands to her. The movie we were all watching is paused, and Tayler, Talia, and Hadley look at me worriedly. The clock on the TV says it’s just after eleven at night.

“Yeah?” I ask, trying to sound normal.

“You were spaced,” she says, “You okay?”

“Oh yeah,” I reply, and look back to my hands, “Just, you know… one month tomorrow.”

Everyone stares at me. I sink further into my couch, and glare at my hands.

One month ago tomorrow, I killed my dad.

They know it, but we don’t ever say it out loud.

“You gonna be okay?” Hadley asks me. I nod.

“Yeah,” I say, “I’m just going to go visit him and stuff.”

“Should we go?” Tayler asks. I shrug.

“You want to be alone?” Hadley asks me. I look at her, and nod. She goes with the twins, riding in their shared car.

I wait until the world around me is quiet to stand and turn off the TV, and head into my room. I keep the lights off, pull off my jeans, and fall tiredly into bed. I glance at my alarm clock and stare at the minutes tick down, until it is tomorrow, and I feel this awful tearing in my chest.

I roll over, and curl into myself, trying to ease the pain in my chest. I can’t and it all is there again, and I can’t help the tears rolling silently down my cheeks and the occasional sniffle.

I growl as I kick the blankets off me, and stand up shakily. I cover my eyes so I can’t see the dark room around me, and I suddenly have a desire to knock everything over and break things.

So I do. I slam my alarm clock into the wall, and tear all my clothes out of the closet. I knock over my lamps and the dresser lands on its side, the drawers opening and things falling out. I tear the covers from the bed, and rip what few posters I have on the walls off, ripping them into shreds.

I pick up something that fell out of my nightstand and throw it at the wall, in a last ditch effort to feel better. I fall onto my back and stare at the darkness above me. Why am I so angry? I groan when the feeling comes back, like a butcher knife going to my chest. I can’t lay on my back on this floor, because then Carter’s there, telling me he hates me, and coupling that with the knowledge that I killed my dad a month ago today is kind of killing me, but I wonder if anyone will even really care, other than Talia and Tayler and Hadley, and maybe my aunt. Who else even cares if I’m alive?

No one, really.

I sit on my dad’s grave, watching other people walk around the cemetery. I wait until I’m alone with my dad to speak.

“Hey, dad,” I say, looking at my hands, which are lying in my lap. I don’t remember my wrists that thin. I look at the headstone, and reread the bit about beloved father, cherished friend, blah blah. “I really miss you,” I say finally, “Everything is… awful. I just wish you were here.”

I pause to regain my composure.

“You were right about that guy not being the one,” I admit, “But that’s kind of due to me, so whatever.”

I go silent again, and finally add, “He hates me. He won’t talk to any of us anymore. Everyone was kind of mad when they realized he was ignoring their calls because of me.

“I’m sorry. I should have brought flowers or something,” I mutter, “God, I’m a screw-up. Didn’t even bring flowers to my father’s fucking grave.”

I lie back on the ground, and stare at the sky, and watch the sun moving steadily over my head. I ignore the people walking past me. I finally get up when the sun’s falling and wring my hands, looking at the headstone again.

“I really hope you can forgive me for killing you,” I say, and I feel my heart sink, “I could have saved you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry, dad.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I love you,” I tell him. There’s still silence.

I groan as he moves closer, and my face goes red. He moves his lips to my neck and I groan again. I feel him smirk into my skin as he walks me backwards towards the bed. He lays me down, and climbs over top of me, where his face hovers over mine. I smile nervously, and he tells me something about me being cute when I’m nervous. He presses his lips to mine suddenly, making me gasp. He slips his tongue into my mouth, and presses his hips into mine.

“Oh god, Carter,” I moan.

My eyes fly open and I make a very loud noise. I cover my face.

I try to steady my breathing, and curl my legs up to my chest.

“Ains?” someone asks as the door creaks open. I pull my knees to my chest quickly.

“Y-yeah?” I ask, as Hadley flips on the light. I squint my eyes against the sudden brightness. I’d forgotten that she was living with me still. I always forget. She does this bit often, checking if I’m okay.

“You okay?” she asks. I nod quickly.

“Had a bad dream,” I say, “No worries.”

She hesitates.

“Okay,” she says quietly, then flips the light off again, “Goodnight.”

I don’t bother telling her that it’s nearly four in the morning. I just nod as she closes the door, then throw myself back into my pillows, wallowing.

I hate these dreams. I roll over, and try to suffocate in my pillow, but it doesn’t work so I just let myself cry it out.

I had just fallen asleep at three. Why can’t I sleep without dreaming? It’s either him, or it’s my dad lying in that bed begging me to save him, and I always say no. I always say no, even though I never mean it. He dies nearly every night in my sleep.

I bury my face in my pillows so Hadley won’t come back because I’m being too loud