Sequel: Eclat ›
Status: finished.
Smirt
Thirteen.
“I’m going to go home now, Lia!” she yelled, voice straining to be heard over the loud music.
I turned around and hugged her, still dancing and laughing. “Ok, sure, Caprice. Who’s going to drive you home?”
Caprice brushed away a wisp of blonde hair and smiled. “Danny Chambers. You know how much I like him.”
“Ooh, of course I do!” I gave her a knowing look. “What are you waiting for then? Go and get ‘em, Cici!”
“How are you going to get home then, Lia?” Her expression became worrisome.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” I pushed her back playfully. “Go. Now.”
Little did I know this would be the last time I saw Caprice.
“Mr. and Mrs. Avery?” I said softly, standing up on shaky legs as they recognized me. Caprice’s mother pulled me into a warm embrace, telling me to be strong. I returned her profound words with a few of my own, choking back a sob.
“I should’ve known that guy was wasted. I should’ve---” My explanation was cut off by the lump that had formed in my throat. I couldn’t breathe normally. Guilt weighed down on me like a two-hundred pound anvil.
“Shh, sweetie, it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault.” Her mother hugged me tighter before releasing me, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
“Can I go see her?” Even though I wasn’t quite ready, this was something I had to do. I needed to finally say goodbye to Caprice.
“Avery? Wyatt and Melissa Avery?” A nurse read their names off a clipboard, eyes drawn to the three of us immediately. She didn’t question anyone when I followed them to Caprice’s room, which was almost at the end of the corridor.
The door opened, the nurse stepping aside so we could enter. . .
“No!” I screamed, sitting upright in bed.
Every few weeks, I have a subconscious walkthrough that reenacts it all. The sequence is chronological: the party, hospital, funeral, and burial. These days, I don’t allow myself to finish the dream and wake up before the funeral replays. I can’t handle the anxiety that the dream brings; I used to take medication, but now I refuse to. No drug can ever stop the dream and I’m just fine with that. Sometimes, I am comforted by the dream, and it makes me believe she is still out there. It makes me believe she’ll come back for me.
As if on cue, I glanced at the clock, neon numbers flashing 3.22. I had work in a few hours, but I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep as easily anymore. With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My cell phone informed me that Chris had called and sent me text messages. I rolled my eyes and deleted them all; he would probably give up soon. Everyone gave up and left, sooner or later.
I tiptoed past Gavin’s room, stifling a giggle as I heard the sound of snoring. Gavin didn’t snore, but whoever he’d brought home earlier probably did. After getting past his room, I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice for myself. I also grabbed one of Gavin’s books that he’d left on the coffee table, sat on the couch, and turned on a lamp.
I didn’t sleep after that, and I didn’t feel even remotely at peace until I watched the sunrise. At the back of my mind, I wondered if Chris was watching the same sight, because he was an insomniac like me.
Christofer
&
Dahlia
Why didn’t this equation make sense to me?
I turned around and hugged her, still dancing and laughing. “Ok, sure, Caprice. Who’s going to drive you home?”
Caprice brushed away a wisp of blonde hair and smiled. “Danny Chambers. You know how much I like him.”
“Ooh, of course I do!” I gave her a knowing look. “What are you waiting for then? Go and get ‘em, Cici!”
“How are you going to get home then, Lia?” Her expression became worrisome.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” I pushed her back playfully. “Go. Now.”
Little did I know this would be the last time I saw Caprice.
“Mr. and Mrs. Avery?” I said softly, standing up on shaky legs as they recognized me. Caprice’s mother pulled me into a warm embrace, telling me to be strong. I returned her profound words with a few of my own, choking back a sob.
“I should’ve known that guy was wasted. I should’ve---” My explanation was cut off by the lump that had formed in my throat. I couldn’t breathe normally. Guilt weighed down on me like a two-hundred pound anvil.
“Shh, sweetie, it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault.” Her mother hugged me tighter before releasing me, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
“Can I go see her?” Even though I wasn’t quite ready, this was something I had to do. I needed to finally say goodbye to Caprice.
“Avery? Wyatt and Melissa Avery?” A nurse read their names off a clipboard, eyes drawn to the three of us immediately. She didn’t question anyone when I followed them to Caprice’s room, which was almost at the end of the corridor.
The door opened, the nurse stepping aside so we could enter. . .
“No!” I screamed, sitting upright in bed.
Every few weeks, I have a subconscious walkthrough that reenacts it all. The sequence is chronological: the party, hospital, funeral, and burial. These days, I don’t allow myself to finish the dream and wake up before the funeral replays. I can’t handle the anxiety that the dream brings; I used to take medication, but now I refuse to. No drug can ever stop the dream and I’m just fine with that. Sometimes, I am comforted by the dream, and it makes me believe she is still out there. It makes me believe she’ll come back for me.
As if on cue, I glanced at the clock, neon numbers flashing 3.22. I had work in a few hours, but I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep as easily anymore. With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My cell phone informed me that Chris had called and sent me text messages. I rolled my eyes and deleted them all; he would probably give up soon. Everyone gave up and left, sooner or later.
I tiptoed past Gavin’s room, stifling a giggle as I heard the sound of snoring. Gavin didn’t snore, but whoever he’d brought home earlier probably did. After getting past his room, I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice for myself. I also grabbed one of Gavin’s books that he’d left on the coffee table, sat on the couch, and turned on a lamp.
I didn’t sleep after that, and I didn’t feel even remotely at peace until I watched the sunrise. At the back of my mind, I wondered if Chris was watching the same sight, because he was an insomniac like me.
Christofer
&
Dahlia
Why didn’t this equation make sense to me?
♠ ♠ ♠
|:No comment.
Not entirely sold on the way I wrote this chapter.
Bleh.