‹ Prequel: Winter Wakes

Summer Shadows

Fifteen.

I had been correct in my assumption that Katie would have me up far too early for my preference the next morning; she’d burst in with the energy of a person who’d had three or four cups of coffee, lifting the blinds without any regard for my protests and groans. The glaring light from the sun left me to wince and hide below the chocolate colored pillows I’d created a sort of cocoon in. She wasn’t deterred by this; soon grabbing my comforter and giving it a nice, swift tug. There was no escape from the cool air of the room in that moment; and I did the only thing I could. I whined and lightly cursed at her through the pillow. Katie Thompson was not my favorite person in those moments.

My reluctance wasn’t lessened even by the admittance she’d made us breakfast. And I trudged down the hall in a lethargic state behind her almost bouncy steps as she led the way to the kitchen. I could smell coffee and pancakes in the air before we even reached the stairs; already picking at the halter of my swimsuit she’d chosen for me. My fingers soon moved to tug at the fabric of the loose, grey-blue shirt I’d thrown over it as I let out a large yawn.

“Suck it up, Maggie, you were asleep before I even got back to the house last night.”

I kept my mouth shut in response. She was right. But that hadn’t meant I’d stayed asleep. Biting the inside of my lip, I opted to simply mull over the words I wanted to say in response instead of just. Letting them slip out. Partially because I didn’t want her to worry about the nightmares that woke me up at times; partially because I didn’t want to bring up how it was Oliver Dreyton who had helped me get back to sleep. He struck me as a topic that wasn’t precisely ideal to bring up around her for the time.

I scarfed down the food she’d prepared as best I could; Katie chatted away about the nice walk back she’d had with Cal the night before. I found myself involuntarily tuning her out as I chewed on a piece of bacon. Stifling a yawn, I dropped my head on the counter. A few more hours of sleep would have been more than ideal, frankly.

“Maggie, c’mon now, you just woke up!”

“Unlike someone, I’m not a morning person. Why are you like this. What’s so appealing about the crack of dawn. Who hurt you.”

The only response was a laugh, and the sound of a coffee mug being slid across the counter. With some reluctance, I raised my head and let my fingers grasp for the steaming mug. It amazed me how she looked so alive so early in the day. I took a few idle sips, wrinkling my nose as I reached for the sugar. Breakfast continued fairly quietly then, both of us fuelling up in prep for the day at the Windjammer. Katie spared a few glances past me towards the kitchen door way as we ate. I tried my best to ignore that. I knew who she was looking for. Frankly, part of me hoped to see him as well.

Cleanup was fairly quick with both of us, dishes clean, mugs up, and somewhere in the midst of it all we heard the close of the back door. I pretended not to hear the curses she let out under her breath in that moment.

She had already packed a bag for us to take, but, I took an extra moment to rummage around in it to assure she had indeed packed the right sunscreen. I wasn’t going to roast, and I wasn’t going to risk melanoma. I had a feeling Katie was going to keep me outside for a good while. This assumption proved to be utterly correct.

The trip up the beach didn’t take too long, Katie walking at the pace of a college student scurrying between classes rather than someone on a vacation. I let out a few exaggerated sighs as I trudged along behind her. This was not ideal; and when the coffee wore off I was bound to be tired and irritable once the day heated up. It was hard to miss the congregation of boys ahead as we approached the Windjammer; a few heads turned, one of them waved. She responded eagerly with a wave of her own. They were too far away to see me roll my eyes and she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head. Her speed picked up as I continued to follow behind at a less than optimal pace.

“Y’all did get here bright and early, didn’t you?” Cal’s voice reached us before he did, trotting a few paces in our direction to meet Katie.

“Its easier to get out and about when the heat hasn’t fully settled in, but you know that already. Unlike someone else.” She cast a look back at me then, which I met with nothing short of a deadpan expression. “Good morning, Cal.”

“Morning, Katie, Maggie. Yeesh. Clearly not a morning person, are ya?”

We both knew exactly who Cal was referencing in that moment, and I spared him nothing less than the look Katie had received. “Wow, how intuitive of you.”

He laughed at that as she came to a halt with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at me. My gaze shifted past them a little, to the other guys hovering near by. Rich Boys of Charleston Unite; how quaint. My nose wrinkled a bit as I scanned the lot; it was like looking at what I could only assume to be a beach fraternity or something. Cal listed off their names; not that I would remember them very easily, if at all. I did recall hearing of Duncan somewhere, the freckled fellow towards the back. He had been the one who’s family owned the carriage company, if I remembered correctly. I frowned a little. I didn’t care for him much; there was something about him. Perhaps the fact he seemed a bit haughtier than the rest, an impressive feat on its own. Or maybe all of the freckles and brassy hair just brought to mind George Max. I quickly tried to shove that thought to the back of my mind.

“And you both know Oliver. We’ll see how much playtime he gets. What’d you let him get into back up in Rhode Island, anyways, Maggie?”

Oh; that got my full attention. How I hadn’t noticed Oliver from the start was beyond me. He’d been sparing words with a dark-haired boy, glancing over at us at the sound of his name. Oliver blinked; giving a small wave before resuming whatever conversation he was in the middle of. My attention shifted to Katie. The smile on her face at the realization he was there was nothing short of plastic. Utterly bitter and fake. This had the makings of an unpleasant day.

The group lurched almost as a single organism, collectively making its way off of the beach and past the dunes. Music was already stirring from the Windjammer as the boys got to stretching. Katie kept herself in conversation with Cal as they walked, hovering by the lots. If it distracted her from Oliver and the mess that was their former friendship, I wasn’t about to interrupt. Instead, I opted to slide past the majority of them and up onto the lower deck of the building. Empty tables abounded and I plopped myself at one nearby for whenever the games started and Katie chose to join me again. The heat was already a prominent factor, humidity a heavy burden even so early in the day. The slight breeze that waved the grass of the dunes was only a slight comfort. People would be craving that soon enough.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” A pleasant enough voice queried behind me. I paused for a moment, turning enough to catch sight of a girl at least a few years younger leaning on the table I had my back propped against. Her hair was a sandy blonde, green eyes settled on me in a most inquisitive fashion as I looked back at her. She seemed at ease with her elbows propped on the table, chin resting in them lightly.

“Um, the grass? Its kind of peaceful, I suppose.”

She laughed at that, a warm, almost familiar sound. “I meant just the beach in the morning, but sure. The dunes are pretty, too. Hi. I’m Lillian. I think I’ve seen you around here a few times. Tourist?”

I managed another pause. She was bright and bubbly, that was certain. And by the way she spoke, probably a local. “Er. Sort of? I’m staying with the Dreytons for the summer.”

“You’re Maggie.” She said it matter-of-factly enough, and I nodded. A slow smile spread across her face then, dimples becoming apparent. No doubts this girl could charm her way through almost any conversation.

“I guess word travels fast among you guys.”

“After everything that’s happened with the Dreytons in the last year? You bet it does. Sorry. That was kind of rude, wasn’t it? I don’t get out much.” She gave a nonchalant little shrug as she finished; I shifted a bit more to face her better.

“I didn’t think I’d seen you before. Um. Are you dating one of the guys?”

She gave another laugh at that, quickly shaking her head.

“Nope,” she said, popping her ‘p.’ Lillian then gave a little nod to the huddle of boys by the lots. “I came with my brother. It’s been a while since I’ve watched any of the games. Say, who’s the girl who came with you? I haven’t seen her before, either.”

“Oh—Um, that’s Katie. She’s my best friend, came down to stay with us. She should be over once they start playing if you’d like to meet her.”

The girl blinked then, glancing past me before offering a little shake of her head. “Actually I just wanted to come say hello. I’m meeting one of my friends inside in a few. I should probably get going. It was nice meeting you, though, Maggie.”

“Right, yeah. It was nice meeting you as well. I’ll see you around sometime, I suppose?”

The girl pushed off the table then, stretching as she stood. She was fairly tall, certainly had more than a few inches on me, even if I was older. “Oh, I’m sure you will at some point. Bye now!”

With a little wave, she trotted off and into the Windjammer. I watched the doors close behind her for a few moments, slowly turning back to look at the lots. Katie was still engrossed in conversation with Cal, as a few of the guys casually hit the ball back and forth across the net. I almost overlooked Oliver, brow furrowed as he stared in my direction. The moment our eyes met, though, he averted his gaze somewhat reluctantly.

Once everyone had seemed to warm up the games finally started, and Katie joined me at the table, beaming as she settled herself in. Cal certainly was a good distraction from the tension between her and Oliver. I was undoubtedly grateful.

The day rolled on at a slow pace for me, my interest in the games minimal at most. Katie would chat on about Cal or how she needed to take me out for some proper girl time, and I’d respond to the best of my ability. My focus kept flitting to Oliver, though, and the curious looks he’d shoot in my direction every so often. I frowned as he took the court, wincing as a few brief shots of pain crossed his face every so often. He shouldn’t be involved in the games, not yet. I picked idly at my nails as my focus centered on him; I knew he was still feeling the effects of his slip in Rhode Island.

The game at hand seemed a bit rough, boys on both sides more than a little fired up after waiting for their match, and the one called Duncan was proving himself to be the most aggressive of the opposing players. His height rivaled Oliver’s from a glance, his returns nothing to take lightly. At one point, he almost spiked the ball onto Cal.

“He’s a bit of an asshole, isn’t he,” Katie murmured beside me, her eyes cut in a thin line at the ginger. I chewed the inside of my lip, offering a small shrug in response. I was a bit biased against redheads as it was.

Eventually, the match wound down, Cal and Oliver’s team losing by a few points. The games were all casual, so it didn’t make much of a difference, but the competitive spirit was certainly alive and well. Both teams seemed out of breath, bodies covered in sand and sweat as they went for water and towels. Katie stood, stretching her arms above her head.

“I’m gonna go talk to Cal, I’ll be back in a bit, okay? I mean, you can come if you want—“

“Katie,” I cut her off with a sigh, standing as well. “I’ve got no interest in being a third wheel doing you two’s flirt-fest. Actually, I’m going to head inside for a bit where they’ve got air conditioning. Unlike you, I wilt in the heat. Not flourish.”

She settled me with an almost guilty look, and I rolled my eyes. “Go. It’s the beach; you met a cute guy. Please go and enjoy yourself. For me. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay, but. If you need anything come and find me. I came down here for you, y’know. But… he’s kind of a nice bonus.”

I gave her a final little nudge, sending her on her way. It was a bit funny to watch her skip and hop across the hot sand of the lots over to him, a slow grin pulling at my lips. But I hadn’t been lying to her, fans and air conditioning sounded wonderful, since even in the shade the humidity was almost smothering.

The inside of the building was a bit dark in contrast to the brightness of the day; my eyes taking a moment to adjust as my steps slowed, trying to assure that I didn’t bump into anything on the way in. It wasn’t slammed, but by no means was it deserted. A fair number of older patrons adorned the bar, sipping their beers as they talked among themselves, a few families taking up residence at the tables dotted throughout the interior. My steps around were slow and idle, relishing my brief escape from the heat outdoors. Hunger hadn’t hit me yet; Katie’s breakfast had certainly been filling. But the thought of a cold drink didn’t sound bad. They had pineapple juice, I knew that for a fact. I just needed to go get some cash from the bag Katie had brought and—

I stumbled a little as I ran into what I could only describe as a heated, sweaty wall of a human; my eyes had adjusted but my focus on my surroundings had been less than optimal. A large hand had grasped for my wrist, seemingly steadying me from my almost tumble over.

“Oh—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—“

“So you’ll apologize for running into someone, but not for killing them. How very you, Maggie.”

The world seemed to stop as my brain processed his words, mulling them over once, twice, and finally thrice. The hand on my wrist might have been hot, but it didn’t stop the icy sensation that started in the pit of my stomach, and soon engulfed the rest of me, chills erupting from head to toe across my skin.

Slowly, I glanced up.

It had been his aura, undoubtedly, that had been what was bothering me from the start. But I hadn’t been close enough to see his eyes. Those were where the true horror was. They were that dead brown, a shade all too familiar, filled with a malice that turned my stomach. The background noise had faded to nothing more than a dull murmur, the sound of my heart in my ears more apparent than anything else in that moment. This wasn’t Duncan; not the Duncan they knew. This was Darren, back in a far more physical existence than he’d been in, in months. And that was nothing less than horrifying.

“You—“

He held a finger to his lips; shushing me. Every inch of my body was tense, ridged with fear. His grip was too tight; to a point the pain was one of the few things that registered in those moments. It seemed instinctual to try to pull away; but that certainly was an impossible feat.

“Hey, heeey. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

God, the taunt in his voice was enough to curdle my blood. I didn’t even realize I was mumbling under my breath until he laughed; that shut me up.

“Calm down, Maggie, calm down. I’d say I won’t hurt you, but that’s a bit cliché and. Well. A lie.” He spoke in a low enough tone not to draw attention to us, voice somehow unnervingly light, teasing almost. I couldn’t find my voice at that moment. He was terrifying without an actual physical form, now that he had one? This was so much worse.

“Cat got your tongue?”

My throat felt dry, but I managed a swallow. “…Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? We’re just having a conversation. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“We have nothing to converse about.”

“I think you’re wrong there. We have plenty to converse about, Maggie. Your rich boyfriend, the blonde white trash who seems to be keeping you company—“

His reflexes were the only thing that stopped me from landing a slap against his cheek; I hadn’t planned to do that, but, he excelled at making my blood boil—even I forgot my fear for a second. That didn’t last long. The steely grip of the horror of my actions took hold as I watched a slow grin spread across his face.

“You really shouldn’t lash out, you know. You might regret that. Hey, did they ever tell you how Chas died?”

He posed the question with such nonchalance that I was left completely silent, eyes steadfast on the hand that held me in place. I… had never asked, now that he pointed it out. Never thought to. I assumed it was something cruel or gruesome, I had on some level not wanted to know. Perhaps that was why I hadn’t allowed my mind to wander to that front. Involuntarily, I gave my head a little shake.

“C’mon. Lets go for a little walk, yeah?”

Reluctant as I was, it hadn’t been a suggestion, which was understood. If he wanted to walk, we were going to walk. And I would have no say in the matter. Part of me prayed Katie or Oliver would appear in the crowd, just anyone who’s eye I could catch long enough to have them drag me away from him. Neither of them were anywhere to be seen.

He kept his voice low, intent on not drawing attention to us. “I woke her up one night, she was snoring up a storm. Did you know she snored like a damn bear? It’s a fucking nightmare, let me tell you. Anyways, she was half asleep, so it’s not like she knew what to make of it, y’know? She started crying. I think she thought it was a dream at first. She missed me, Maggie, unlike you.”

The nonchalance with which he discussed his final encounter with Chassie left me feeling ill, teeth clamped firmly together as I kept my head down, cautiously glancing around for any familiar face as we moved along. As we moved out the doors, I managed to catch a glimpse of a pair of green eyes and fair hair, only for a moment before I lost sight of her.

“It was kind of cute. She’s always been cute. Well, up until she realized she couldn’t touch me. And then came that typical stupid look of confusion that seemed to come so naturally for her. So, I told her what I was going to do,” he continued to speak, and I realized we’d slipped up the stairs at some point. The heat of the sun on the upper deck was relentless, but the crowds weren’t as thick since most were downstairs around the volleyball lots. “Then she started crying even more. It was that ugly crying with the whiny begging. Like that was going to change my mind. I mean, she was so pathetic and desperate I really didn’t have much choice, you know? So I smothered her with her own pillow. It takes longer than the movies make you think to do that, for the record. It was slow, and drawn out, and kind of boring, frankly. But she finally stopped moving. At least I got some type of satisfaction out of that, watching her arms just, fall. And you could feel it; the second when the life left her body. God that… energy. It just vanished. Like that.”

He gave a snap of his fingers, seemingly enraptured in his own story. I wanted nothing more than to drown him out, to get the image of Chassie flailing helplessly in her bed against an assailant she couldn’t even touch, suffocating in fear and panic in her last moments. Why did she have to go through that? Why did she have to suffer?

The answer was simple, of course: because of me. It was my fault he killed her. My fault Simon was dead, and his mother, and even my own father. It was my fault. All of it. I brought death with me wherever I went, letting it take those who meant the most.

“You really are still you, even now.”

His words pulled me out of my own thoughts, slowly sparing a glance up at him as we came to a stop at the back corner of the deck. I couldn’t see the volleyball lots from there, but the chatter of the crowd and the shouts of the players were still there, undoubtedly. Darren released my wrist then, an unreadable smile on his face as he instead reached up, fingers brushing along my cheek. I tried to recoil, managing only to find myself pressed against the blue wall of the building. I didn’t like this; but I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off of him and search for an opening, or help.

“Even when you’re listening to someone else, you’re lost in your own little mind. You get this look on your face, and you just know. You’re not really here, are you? I always wondered what went on in that head of yours. Are you trying to think about how she felt? How to get out of this? How to save your boyfriend?” His smile turned into a sneer as he finished, leaning in towards me. “Maybe you’re thinking about what a freak you are; or maybe about how it’s your fault I’m dead and you still won’t own up to it.”

I could feel the hatred he held for me; the need to destroy me in every way. He wanted revenge; and I couldn’t even tell him I wasn’t directly responsible for his death. He wouldn’t believe me. Or if he did, Oliver might have an even bigger target on his back.

“You know, I could push you off of this balcony right now and no one would so much as question it if I told them you did it yourself. You’re ‘unstable.’ You’re the girl who lost her father and her former best friend within a few weeks of each other. You can’t be exactly right in the head, can you? And I mean, this shit about talking to dead people? I’m sure you’ve mentioned that to someone. You’re unhinged. No one would be surprised if you took a dive and hurt yourself. Or worse.” The distance between us lessened; the sheer size of Duncan’s body was enough to push me further into the corner, right against the railing. I spared a small glance down; and the only thing I could see were the faces of Caroline Dreyton and George Max staring up at me from the snow covered ground all those months back. The halo of blood expanding around her head seemed to bloom right before my eyes; almost as though I was witnessing it that very moment.

My breath caught in my throat; fingers gripping tightly to the wooden barrier behind me. Everything about that cold, January evening had come rushing back to me; the fear, the panic, the disorientation. The pain hit hot and fresh, Simon’s final act and its immediate results bright and in the forefront of my mind. I didn’t want to think about it again. I didn’t want to relive it, I—

“Maggie—Maggie—“

My arms were trembling as I instinctively flinched back from the hands that had taken hold of them. My breaths were short and shaky, scrambling backwards as I tried to meld myself with the corner of the Windjammer’s upper deck; I hadn’t been on the ground before, knees hugged to my chest, I had been standing, and. The stinging in my eyes, combined with my watery vision slowly gave way to the realization of the desperate apologies and pleas spewing out of me. I had to grapple with reality; with the recognition of a fair number of people hovering over me.

“Maggie, it’s okay, you’re okay, hey, look at me. Breathe, okay? It’s okay. I promise you.” Oliver’s voice was so easy to focus on, my gaze slowly settling on his face as he knelt before me. His skin was covered in sand and sweat; tousled blond curls an utter mess as he shoved them out of his eyes. I loved those eyes. I loved how familiar they were, how laden with worry they seemed as he spoke in a soft tone, gently reaching over to brush some of my hair back. I loved and hated how all I saw in those moments was Simon.

Katie’s voice slowly registered in the background, a series of frantic questions as to what had happened as she pushed her way through the small crowd to join Oliver. I struggled to pull my eyes away from him as she approached, not even hesitating to get down on my level with him. “Baby, oh, sweetie, are you okay?”

I couldn’t find my voice as I gazed up at them. I wasn’t all right, but I’m sure that was apparent. It was a standard question everyone asked even if they knew you were very much not okay, but in a way it was a mercy. Doing so gives one a chance to decide how much they want to divulge about how upset they are, if they want to discuss it at all. You could always lie. They’ll know you’re not okay, of course. But it spares them from prying into something you might not wish to discuss. As stupid of a question as it seemed, it was actually a mercy of its own.

“I… I didn’t mean to—“

“Oh, sweetie, we know you didn’t,” Katie cut me off with a few shushes, concern in her tone more than apparent. She had dealt with this back at school, in the weeks after the incident with Max and Caroline. Once or twice she’d excused us from class to calm me down. She had put up with so much already, I didn’t want to have to force more on her, even if I was beyond grateful for what she had done.

“I--I think I should go home, I don’t really feel up to this right now--” My voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. I saw the understanding in Katie’s eyes almost immediately. She gave the smallest of nods as she slowly stood up.

“I’ll take you back then, okay? And we’ll—“

“Actually, Katie, I’ll do that,” Oliver cut her off with only a small glance. He remained on my level, blue eyes steadily fixed on mine. “Ankle’s starting to bother me, I don’t think I can play anymore today without making it worse. You stay and enjoy yourself. I’ll take care of her.”

An awkward silence settled in almost immediately; my emotions were already a jumble, the sudden and growing tension in the air helped absolutely nothing. Katie’s face said it all; shock, hurt, anger, it was all there. The boy she had considered her best friend was a complete stranger now, his insistence in that moment solidified it. He would barely say two words to her, but he’d assist me without a second thought. This wasn’t the Oliver she had known.

“…If you insist. Do what you want.” Her reply was cold; an unsettling tone I’d never heard her use with anyone. She spared me a slow glance, expression unreadable. “If you need anything, I’ll have my phone on.”

She left without another word; taking long strides all the way back to the stairs before vanishing from my sight. This wasn’t right at all; this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Oliver heaved a sigh as he stood up finally, offering me a well-tanned hand. “C’mon, Maggie. Let’s get out of here.”

“But, she’s upset, we can’t just—“

“Maggie. She’s upset with me. You just had some sort of breakdown, there’s a big difference i—“

He stopped speaking as he helped me off the ground, gaze settling on my arm. I followed his stare to the distinct red marks on my wrist, a fresh memento of my encounter with Darren. By it’s own right, it wasn’t as bad as the scratches; he hadn’t drawn blood this time. But the marks were there nonetheless. He wanted me to remember he was here, even when we weren’t in contact. He wanted to haunt me at all times, and marks made it very hard to forget.

“…Maggie.”

The lump in my throat was hard to swallow; I gave my head a small shake. “I can’t… not here. Not right now. Please.”

His face hardened in that instant; eyes growing cold as he studied the marks. Those would be bruises tomorrow; I had no doubts. He didn’t push it further though, merely giving a single nod before turning to make our way back to the main floor, and then home.

Oliver kept his arm securely wrapped around me the entire walk to their house, and I found myself gladly clinging to him, like a shipwreck victim to a life raft. Not a word was said as we walked, his limp becoming more apparent as the minutes went by. It was no surprise that was bothering him after a few games of volleyball. He shouldn’t have been doing that to begin with. I did my best to offer a bit of support for the duration of the walk. He offered no resistance.

For once, I didn’t even care about how sterile the living room felt as we entered, immediately leading him over to the couch before going to the kitchen. Thankfully, they kept ice packs there as well. My hands were still trembling a bit as I wrapped it in a towel, the cold sensation a welcome relief in comparison to the brutal summer heat outside.

“Here.”

He’d already propped himself on the couch a bit better once I returned, taking the icepack from me with a quiet “thank you.” Something still felt off, though, we both knew that. I settled myself against the opposing arm of the couch as I ran my fingers through my hair; the sticky summer air had left it nothing short of a frizzy mess. But that was nothing in comparison to the internal turmoil I was struggling to keep in check.

“You’ve had a really rough few days, you know. No one can blame you for breaking down.”

My gaze shifted slightly in his direction; he was looking out the window. I did the same. The crème colored drapes waved lazily under the near constant blast of the air conditioner, beyond them the dunes looked as inviting as they had my first day here.

“But, something else happened, didn’t it?” Oliver Dreyton posed a question I felt certain he already knew the answer to with a calm but serious voice. My fingers idly ran across the fresh red marks on my wrist, unable to look over at him.

“Even if it did, there’s not much that can be done about it. It’s a personal problem.”

He scoffed, “Really, Maggie? Don’t you think we’d be past that by now?”

I gave a few blinks in response. “Past what?”

“You damn well know ‘what.’ This bullshit of keeping our problems muffled when it’s doing neither of us any good.”

“I can’t fully see how discussing mine would make this any better, frankly,” I countered in a low voice.

“Who did that to you, Maggie? What happened earlier?”

“The same thing that happened in the pool and the garage that day.”

It wasn’t a lie; Darren had happened. But it was hard to explain Darren to someone who I wasn’t sure believed me about his own brother; and even if he did, what good would it do? How exactly does one combat something they can’t always see or touch?

The room fell silent in the next few moments; my fingers idly traced the marks on my wrist. It slowly dawned on me how exhausted I felt. Katie had gotten me up at an unreasonable time, and any encounter with Darren was nothing less than draining. My head lolled back against the couch, eyes closing as I heaved a sigh. It was strange to think of how much I missed the weekends at the funeral home. They were at least peaceful. And my father was there. That soft twinge of pain burned to life in that instant; slowly simmering into a much more severe sensation of loss. I missed my father. I missed him so much.

It didn’t take long for me to push myself off the couch at that point. Carefully shuffling a few steps in the direction of the stairs. I felt myself tearing up; and I had no desire to cry in front of Oliver more than I already had.

“…Maggie?”

“I just want a shower, and to sleep. I’m tired, Oliver.” My steps slowed as I spoke, but I didn’t turn back to him. I didn’t know if I actually needed alone time, but I wanted it.

There was a sigh behind me, and his reply came in a voice I almost didn’t hear. “I wish you would let me in, Magnolia Walton.”

“…So do I.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Depression is a creativity killer. Things that once took weeks to finish now take months. And I am so very sorry.