Let Them Speak

I rummaged around until I found it. The last memory ever shared between Chris and I, caught on a flimsy, glossy piece of paper. I slid it out of the dusty, torn and worn box.

Chris had her blond hair cut real short, it spiked around her head and made her look like a fairy. Her green eyes caught the right light and shone out against her pale skin.

I was beside her, we were laying on the grass playing with her brand new Polaroid camera, the old fashioned kind that spat your photo out at you. I looked the same, though I was younger and possibly happier.

My skin was tanned, my hair was shorter, a military buzz. Chris always said she hated my hair that short. I gripped the photo, then searched for the other one.

It was of Karen. The week before she died, she had just started 6th grade and I had her 6th grade picture. She was smiling, all teeth, eyes gleaming with glee. She had my skin, it was naturally tanned and my mom’m curly hair, it waved over her shoulders and I always told her it looked like chocolate waves.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

We had fought the night before. About a board game. A fucking board game. I had never told I loved her before she left, I was too pissed.

And even when her and mom called, they’d called once. I had only talked to mom and when Karen got on the phone, I gave the phone to dad.

I was such a brat, I had never told her I loved her before she died. I gripped both pictures, then went downstairs. It was still quiet and I wondered where dad was, but at the moment, it didn’t matter.

I went to his den, rummaged through his drawers until I found his lighter, then stuffed that in my pocket. Then I left. I walked quickly, and once I got impatient about that, I started to full-out run.

I got to the cometary, my lung bursting and begging for proper air. But I wouldn’t give up until I was where I needed to be. I stopped in front of the matching grave sites, Karen buried beside my mother. I wished we had cremated them, I would’ve liked to keep them in the house with us. Keep a piece of them with us.

I held up the picture of Karen, took out the lighter and set the blossy paper on fire. It bubbled, melted and then began the process of actual burning. I watched it until it started to get hot on my fingers, then dropped it to the ground and watched as it turned to a mess at my feet. Then I knelt and kissed the cold stone.

“I love you.” I said simply and rested my forehead against it.

“Go now and say hi to mom for me. Tell her I love her too, you little brat,” I whispered and didn’t even know I was crying until I watched a drop of liquid splat onto my shoe. Then I realized I wasn’t crying, the sky was. Rain started to fall heavily, soaking me instantly. I swore and rushed over to Chris’ grave. I knelt in front of hers and smiled sadly. My clothes clung to my body for dear life in the wet weather.

“And Chris, you know I love you. I may not have loved you in the way you wanted, but I did love you. Now, go with Karen and stay with my mom for a while. Wait for me if you want, but I’ll love you forever. I mean, I do have the scars from trying to save you, I have to live with those and I think it helps me, because I have something that reminds me of you. Go with them and live like you didn’t down in this hell,” I said and traced the burn scar on my palm in remembrance.

I ran forward, groped at the door frame and hissed as my skin sizzled. Then I rushed forward again, only to be pulled away by a fire fighter.

“NO!! Let me go! She’s still alive! She’s in there!” I screamed, and thrashed, it took three fire fighters to contain me, even more to even attempt to calm me down.

I felt her calmness, her stillness, then I didn't feel anything at all.

“Chris!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, then I was rushed off, my hand bandaged and I was cleaned up. My dad came to pick me up, he hugged me hard, then dragged me home. I didn't eat, sleep, or drink anything for three days.

I got to my feet, took the photograph out of my pocket, surprisingly it was draw as can be. I shielded it from the rain, and let it on fire. This one blazed. It seared my fingertips and once I let it go, it fell to the ground, fought off the rain and lasted until it was just a pile of soaked ashes.

I pulled out my cell phone as I rushed for cover- an old tool shed where grave diggers kept their tools. I dialed a few numbers, talked to a few people, then had Addison’s address memorized in my head.

I closed my eyes and thought about where it was, and once I knew the route, I started off in a run. This run was easier and soon I was approaching Addison’s house. I stopped in front of the front door and caught my breath. Then I knocked.

At first, nothing happened, then I heard thumping on the stairs and Haven opened the door. She smirked at me, probably because I was soaking wet and panting at Addison’s front door.

“Can I please talk to Addison?” I asked meekly and she nodded, ran back upstairs and a moment later, Addison was coming back downstairs. He looked tired and his eyes were bloodshot, like he’d been crying. Had I made him cry?

“Darryn?” He questioned and took in my appearance. I gathered my courage and took several steps forward.

Addison looked unsure, he had no idea what I was going to do.

I gripped his collar and pulled him toward me and planted my lips right on his.

The kiss was quick, but heated and in a way- rushed.

“Thank you,” I whispered and pulled Addison into a hug, rested my chin ontop of his head and held on for dear life. He awkwardly returned the embrace.

“Are they gone yet?” I asked once we had stepped apart. The front of Addison’s shirt was wet and his face was flushed red.