From Under the Cork Tree

The rest of the stay in New York was a blur. I ate too much, I didn't cry anymore, and I didn't talk. Talking seemed like a hassle, and I didn't have anything important to say. It was mourning, I heard my dad say, that's why I was acting like I was. He said everyone should be gentle around me.

It bothered me that everyone seemed to tip-toe around me. There was always a hand on my shoulder, back or arm, rubbing it to comfort me. It was a nice gesture, but I wasn't comforted, I was sure I wouldn't be for a long time.

As I packed to leave, I was in my own head, quiet still. I could smell John and it seemed to calm me, even with the sadness clouding over me. My mind was focused on leaving, I didn't even hear Anthony come into the room, or hear his knock.

I was struck free from my trance when he said my name; "Angel, I have some stuff for you."

I looked back at him, dropping a t-shirt in purple my duffle bag, "What stuff?"

He held up a tattered and sorry backpack. My heart sunk, it was John's, and it made things too real again.

"I think you'd want it," Anthony murmured, "or...not?"

I nodded, "I'll take it."

"It has clothes, laptop...toiletries and stuff," he came over and set the backpack next to my duffle bag. "There's a notebook in there too, it got soaked in snow."

"Thanks, Anthony," I said softly.

"No problem. So...you're leavin'?"

"Yep," I exhaled, "I don't want to go, but I have doctor appointments."

He nodded absentmindedly, "The baby...is okay?"

I hummed, "Yeah, baby is perfect."

Anthony smiled, "Man, as tall as John was, I bet your baby is gonna be gigantic!"

I laughed, feeling my throat scratch, "I hope not."

"That growth spurt is gonna be insane."

I shook my head, laughing and thinking about that too. If my baby was a boy, he'd be tall; I'd be surprised if I had a girl and she grew freakishly tall, because I'm not that tall. I grew excited to see the genes John and I created.

"Hey," he said, gaining my attention, "we're gonna, me 'n Jack will continue on with the tour...we thought it'd be okay."

"If you think so," I said, "you'll be okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah. We want to, for John."

I smiled, "Thanks. He'd want that."

Anthony exhaled softly, "I'm really sorry this happened, Angelus. If I had been driving--"

I cut him off, "Don't say that. This is no ones fault. This happened for a reason, and I'm inclined to believe had anyone else been driving, Nick 'n Dan still would've been hurt and John would've died."

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I just don't know what to say or do. I never...lost anyone this close to me before."

"Me either," I swallowed, and then looked down at the back pack, "but it was bound to happen sometime. No one lives forever."

Anthony leaned in and hugged me, his hands rubbed my back as I returned it, "Keep in touch with us, alright? We're still friends--"

I cut him off, "We're family, Ant, I'll stay in touch with you guys."

Anthony gave my body one last squeeze before we parted; he smiled sadly at me, "We'll be in LA soon. I'll call when we plan to visit...we'll bring something for the baby."

"Great," I patted his shoulder, "I can't wait."

Anthony and I said our see you soons and then he was gone. I continued to pack, and once I finished, my eyes landed on John's backpack. My stomach churned at what could be inside, from what I remember him packing in there was his computer, headphones, and like Anthony had said, toiletries. I was afraid to open the backpack, just because I didn't want to fall into a sobbing for again, it took so long for me to stop crying every second. So, I just set it aside, but my eyes kept wondering over to it.

"Angelus?" I heard my mom call causing my attention on his backpack to end. "Honey, it's time to go."

I exhaled, picked up the backpack and placed it on my shoulders and then grabbed my duffle bag. Before I even exited the room, my dad came in and took the duffle bag from me, "You should use the bathroom, I'll take this downstairs."

I agreed, but instead, I turned and looked back at John's room. My heart sunk again, deeper into the pits of my stomach. I went back to his desk and picked up the photos, and made a reminder to put them away. I then went to the bed, picked up one of his black pillows and held it against my chest, inhaling his scent.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so sad.


Returning to LA was like a day dream. I had slept the entire flight, and my dreams were pleasant. I had dreamt of Perry and Big Bob, and of John, all of them laughing and taking care of me. It was the first time I dreamt of my baby, but the sex was a mystery to me. I had been cradling the baby, but I woke up before I could decipher it all.

After getting our bags, we drove home; Rae had said she'd be back in another few days, so I was on my own for a bit. I didn't mind it, I wanted some alone time to think about my job and what else I could do. I didn't even think about my job, I needed money to raise my baby.

So, when I got home, I contacted Dora for any job that was paying. My parents thought I was crazy to be working so soon, but I told them that it was what I needed, and they didn't question me further. I was given 4 different assignments in the next month and a half, all in the area. The thought alone exhausted me, but I had to do it, I didn't have much in my savings. I wasn't expecting a handout from the Holohans, but they said if I needed anything at all that they would help.

I wrote down my schedule on my desk calendar, and then went to unpack. I set clothes aside to take downstairs to wash, and then I put my toiletries away. After I had set the duffle bag back into my hall closet, I was left with John's backpack. Again, my stomach churned, I didn't understand why, but I did know I was nervous about opening it up. I was afraid again, I kept telling myself to be rational, that nothing inside would hurt or bother me.

I sat on my bed, crossing my legs under me, and hesitantly unzipped the bag. The first thing I saw was his MacBook; it was damaged, broken from the accident, so I set it aside. I found his tooth brush, toothpaste, deodorant, cologne, his medicine, sleeping pills and a spiral notebook. I left the other stuff in the bag, but I took out the notebook, flipped through the pages quickly, noticing little scribbles and drawings here and there. I stopped at the last few pages that were crumpled and written on.

It was a letter addressed to the baby. My stomach fluttered, I'm not sure if it was from the baby or myself. I wasn't sure if I should read it or save it for the baby.bMy mind overrode my heart, I started to read it. John's voice easily filled my head.

Dear Baby Boy or Baby Girl:
I'm not much of a writer, so this may be all a mess, and my handwriting isn't any better. Me and your mom have terrible handwriting. Anyway, I'm writing this because I don't think I could be able to remember these thoughts in my head when you get older.
You are a miracle, first things first. Your mom was told she'd never have babies, or even become pregnant. And I'm 31 years old, I felt like I was getting too old to have kids, but I'm so glad that I didn't become discouraged. I'm also really glad that your mom is Angelus, I love her more than words can explain. I really hope you look more like her than me because she's the most beautiful woman I've ever met. If she reads this then I can bet she's blushing, or rolling her eyes. But I know it's true, and so will you.
Me and your mom are really excited to have you, 9 months feels like a lifetime, but it's needed to make you cute. I really can't wait to hold you in my arms and see if babies really smell as good as my mom claims. I can't wait to teach you how to walk, talk, ride a bike, and everything else dad's teach their kids. My mom, your grandma, said you'll teach me a lot too, so I'm really excited to see exactly what you'll teach me. I can't wait to see you roll and crawl, hear you cry and hear your baby talk.
You are worth the wait, especially since I'm so impatient.
I've been learning to change diapers, how to rock you, how to feed you, how to do everything really. Your mom has been the best help. She said she could feel you flutter inside of her when you were just a few weeks old, so I can't wait to feel you kick! I'm so overwhelmed with how excited I am to see you, I've never been so happy before. We haven't even met you and we already love you to pieces.
You are the best thing we ever made.
Before I end this little rambling letter, I have to tell you that I'm a musician, a drummer in a band, and there will be days I'll be gone. Lots of days I'll be a thousand miles away, but I will always call and you will be on my mind no matter what. You and your mom will always be there in my heart and mind, I will never forget you, and there will never be a moment where you aren't on my mind.
I have a feeling you're a little girl; if you aren't, sorry son :) I got the feeling that you were a girl the moment I saw you on the ultrasound screen. The first thing that popped into my head was I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash, and I really want to name you after him, but I don't think your mom likes him as much as I do. Anyway, you'll be little Johnny either way; Jonathan or Johanna.
I need to cut this letter short, your mom is suppose to go to a Halloween party and we haven't talked yet, and I have a show tonight.
There are more letters to come!
Love your old man, John Beatz

My heart tore in two. My heart was literally broken. My only thought was when it would kill me. I didn't know if I could go on. It was hard to believe so knowing John was really, truly gone. Our child will never know him, that's the greatest injustice.

The tears had come and dripped on the pages; I quickly shut the notebook and placed it back in his backpack. I would save those pages for our child once he or she was older. My mind instantly wondered what John was thinking now, or if he could even see or hear me; I prayed that he could.

With all this happening, I questioned my faith. It was hard believing in God, Jesus and Heaven. God had given me a gift of beating a child, but he took John away. I was told that everything happens for a reason, but I couldn't even fathom that there was a reason for John's death.

"Why, God?" I cried to the ceiling, "Just tell me why!"

I sobbed, letting the tears blind me. I let it all out until there was a knock on my screen door. I had a feeling it was my mom, or dad, but they didn't come in. So, I wiped my eyes, sucked up my tears and headed toward the door.

"Hey," I heard Pete's voice before I ultimately saw him. "Why's your door open? It's gonna rain."

I didn't answer him, I unlocked the screen, pushed it open and pulled Pete inside. He stumbled a bit as I threw my arms around him and buried my face into his shoulder. The only thing that crossed my mind, right then as he hugged me back, was that I was taller than him.