When Night Falls

Save You - Simple Plan
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-Christine’s POV-

I leaned back, placing my head against the trunk of the tree, running my hand through the ends of my hair absentmindedly. I tugged at it roughly, pulling at the tangles. Instinctively, I drew back my hair, rummaging in my pocket for a rubber band to tie it up.

He tilted his head to a side again, his eyes searching my face.

“…What?”

I was getting more annoyed by the minute.

“You look better when you let your hair down.”

His words rang through my mind repeatedly, like the resonance sounding through ringing crystal. My hand closed upon the rubber band, and I hesitated. Sighing, I closed my eyes, breathing heavily as the pain crept stealthily like the flow of viscous, strong corrosive acid through my body. I withdrew my hand from my pocket as though I’ve been burned, choking back the sob that I had been withholding for so long.

Too long. I had held back for too long.

It had been a month since Jamier and Sarah had come back, and now both of them were living with Ryan. Though. It seemed to be so much longer since then.

Back then, after what happened at Ryan’s place, I avoided him like the plague. Every time he came near me, making an attempt to explain or apologize, I ran away from him like a coward. Escaping.

Now…

He left me alone. I no longer needed to avoid him.

We sat together at lunch with Jamier and Sarah, but he no longer attempted to speak to me. Not even before our Biology class. I watched as Sarah and Ryan grew closer, watched as they smiled and exchanged jokes at the lunch table. It was obvious from the way Sarah looked at him that she liked him, perhaps a bit more than just as a friend. What Ryan felt for her though, I could not tell. He seemed happier, but yet… It didn’t seem quite right somehow, the expression on his face. It felt strange, forced. Every time our eyes met, his gorgeous lightning blue eyes with my own dark ones, I would blush, and avert my glance quickly. I wanted so badly just to stare at him, but the instinct to escape from his gaze was so strong. That was because he no longer looked at me the same. I knew that if I didn’t look away, his gaze alone would cut me like a knife, eventually bleeding me dry, leaving me empty. His lightning blue eyes no longer sparkled when they met my glance. Instead, they were more intense. It looked as though he was… suffering.

But why would he be suffering? Was it just my imagination? Was it because I was in so much in pain that I thought that he was hurting as well?

At night, I could sleep, but now my dreams were filled with images of him. I would wake up, the ache in my heart unbearable. My want and need for him increased with each dream. The dull pain, at times, razor sharp, was now almost a part of me…

It was ironic that I had once wished that I would never run into him along the corridors, and now I was wishing and hoping that with every turn I made in the halls, I would see him, even if it were just his back view.

I sighed again, as a cool breeze caressed my cheeks.

Jamier on the other hand…

His presence had been a great relief for me. Those midnight-blue eyes seemed so sensitive and sharp. Whatever emotion that was running though me; he seemed to be able to sense it. He never pried though, but he always tried to make things easier for me. He never failed to cheer me up… But something about him wasn’t quite right as well. Sometimes I looked in his sad eyes and saw pain, a sliver of pain that slipped away every time he realized that I was watching him.

He was a good friend, and I really wanted to help ease his pain. I wanted to know, what had made those beautiful eyes so heartbreakingly sad. I wanted him to know that I would be there for him. But I didn’t know whether he felt the same, whether he thought that I was a good friend, a friend worthy of his trust, a friend worthy enough to share his pain and burdens.

I first caught the faint smell of his cool metallic scent, before I heard the soft footsteps trailing across the grass. His scent was one that, I had realized after a while, was similar, but not quite, to the aroma of the ocean. It was a soothing, refreshing smell, one that was quite different from Ryan’s, which always made me feel safe, warm and happy. Ryan’s scent never failed to seem so familiar… I still couldn’t figure out why he smelled so familiar, even back when I first met him.

Jamier sat next to me, and I opened my eyes, smiling to acknowledge his presence.

“Hey,” He said softly. “Are you ok with me being here? I don’t want to disturb you or something…”

“It’s alright, you aren’t disturbing me.” I smiled reassuringly. Sometimes, Jamier was so considerate. It was really sweet.

He nodded before he leaned back on the tree trunk, his head barely touching my own.

“It feels nice here,” He remarked after a while.

I nodded.

“Yea, it’s nice here. I don’t have to pretend to be something that I’m not…” I gazed dreamily at the sky. It was a beautiful day. The air smelled fresh after a light shower, and the sun was peeking from behind some clouds.

Suddenly sensing Jamier’s gaze on me, I turned, giving him a curious look. Embarrassed at being caught, he grinned shyly, turning to gaze at the sky instead. I looked back at the sky as well, my mind wandering.

“Hey Jamier,” I paused.

“Yea?” He answered.

“You haven’t mentioned anything about your family all this while. Did you go back to them, after you’ve turned, to check on them?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen abruptly. His eyes clouded over. The sudden onslaught of my words seemed to have affected him greatly as he turned away from me, before glancing downwards. I looked at him, mortified by the raw painI had seen in his eyes before he had evaded his gaze, realizing that I had said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry, that was tactless of me. I shouldn’t have asked. ” I said quickly. I reached over for his hand, soothingly patting the top of it. I hesitated before I stood up, about to walk away. “I’ll just leave, now…”

“No, wait!” He suddenly grabbed my hand, his fingers interlocking with mine. I gasped at the sudden contact, a little stunned, my mind garbled as I turned to look back at him. The coldness of his fingers was beginning to sap the heat away from mine. He had lifted his head, looking away from his feet, and his fingers tightened around mine as I instinctively began to tug them away.

“No, please.” He pleaded. “Stay with me, please.” His midnight blue orbs were pleading, almost begging me to stay.

I hesitated.

“Please.” His voice broke. At that instant, I caved in. He looked so much in pain and utterly vulnerable. Even though I knew he was around my age, he looked like an old, broken man at that moment. How could I run away from him when he was in so much pain? I knew that I couldn’t bear to deny him of such a simple request. I nodded, falling to my feet again.

“Thank you.” He said softly. He didn’t remove his fingers from mine though, but held them loosely in his. Afraid of hurting his feelings if I pulled my fingers back, I let them remain where they were. He sighed, his fingers slowly brushing the surface of my palm in small circles.

I cringed internally. I had been raised for 15 years in a conservative society, and I had only lived in Forks for two years since Dad died. I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. Was it more than just a friendly gesture? Was I over thinking the situation? Was I being too sensitive? Should I pull my hand away now?… My mind was still running at a hundred miles per hour before Jamier interrupted my thoughts again.

“Ryan and Sarah already know about this. Ryan found out, because he read my thoughts. And I let him tell Sarah about it, but I wanted to tell you this myself...”

“I’m an orphan, Christine. I have been in the orphanage since I was sixteen. I left when I turned eighteen, and that was when Linus found me and turned me. I have no family.” My eyes widened at his words. He traced the lines of my palm.

“There…used to be the four of us. My mum, my dad, my baby sister, Clara, and I. Clara… she was the first to go.” He stopped, before looking down at our interlocked hands as he spoke again.

“Clara was… a beautiful little girl. She had brown curls, and the biggest, most innocent emerald-gold eyes that could melt anyone’s heart. We all loved her, so much, and spoilt her. She was only two years old when she…. died. I was 15… All of us were in the car, and I was in the backseat with her. We placed her in the baby seat, but she hated it. She hated being restrained. If she hadn’t…died, I know that she would have grown up to be a handful.” He chuckled softly, his eyes misting over at the memory.

“Clara hated being restrained,” he repeated. “That day, she turned to me and called me, “Jamie, hug!” She always calls me “Jamie”… she couldn’t quite pronounce my name then. She wanted me to rescue her from the car seat. I never could turn down her requests…especially when she looked at me with those big, wide and beautiful eyes she had. I took her out of her baby seat.”

“That was… the greatest regret of my life. I wished I hadn’t done that… and everything else wouldn’t have happened. It was all my fault…” He closed his eyes. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I… was bouncing her on my lap, when the accident happened. She was giggling madly one moment, and my parents were laughing…tickled at the sound of her endearing laugher and our little banter… and the next moment the car was hit by a truck… and she went flying out of my arms because I couldn’t hold onto her quickly and tightly enough… and she… she… hit the windshield and…” He let out a hoarse, strangled moan, his eyes flashing at the memory. I didn’t know what to do. Helplessly, I held onto his arm, rubbing it soothingly.

“She died… on the spot. The three of us were injured, but we escaped, pretty much unharmed. The driver of the truck died on the spot as well. And everything changed from then on.”
“My mum never blamed me for Clara’s death. Even if she did, she never said a word. And she forgave me for it. Dad… Dad however… he loved Clara very very very much. He loved her more than he loved his life, and without her… he died inside. He was an empty shell, and it killed me to know that I was the reason why my parents lost their beloved child. I could see that they never looked at me the same again. I was their son… yet I was the murderer of their precious baby, the precious baby that they would never have again…Dad blamed me for her death. I knew he was right. Had I not let her out of her baby seat, she would still be alive… and my mum and dad would still be alive as well…”

“He started to drink, heavily. And when he drank… he hit me, with whatever he could get his hands on. At first, Mum would step in to protect me. She tried to protect me, she really did. But everytime she did, he got angrier, and whenever he dragged her away from me, he would hit me twice as hard. Soon, she learnt to stay out of the way so that he would not hurt me even worse. When I passed out from the beatings, I would always wake up to her by my side. She would always tend to my wounds, stroke my hair away from my face, crying. It broke her heart, seeing the both of us like that. It broke mine too, watching the guilt and pain in her eyes. Once, he used a baseball bat I had in my room… I ended up in the hospital for a month.” I sucked in a breath.

“His addiction to alcohol caused him to lose his job, and he blamed that on me as well. The beatings worsened…”

“And then one day, he came at me with a knife.” His voice dropped to a whisper. I gasped.

Jamier continued, whispering. “He kicked me to the floor, smashing my face against the floor. He was about to plunge the knife into my back when my mum… she stepped in to protect me… one last time. She took the blow that I was supposed to receive…hugging me so tightly that I couldn’t push her away from me…”

“He stabbed her, at least forty over times. In his drunken fury, he mistook her for me, and he ignored my screams for him to stop. The first few stabs he took, she screamed, and... He never stopped. My mum was long dead before he did. The blood flowed out from her like a river, and my body was drenched in her blood, in her love for me, in her last attempt to protect me. I cried…”

“When my father realized what he had done… he looked at me, where I lay sobbing beneath my mother’s body. And then he said to me… “It’s all your fault.” before he stabbed himself in the heart.”

“It’s all… my fault… isn't it? If only I didn't exist... If only i hadn't took Clara out of her baby seat. All of this would never have happened. Then they wouldn't have died. I’m so sorry Clara… Mum… Dad…. You're right.. it's all my fault...” Jamier's voice broke, and he pressed his hands against his face, rolling himself into a small ball on the ground. He let out a muffled scream of agony, and he began to smash his fists angrily into the ground.

"Oh, Jamier. It's not your fault. You didn't want this to happen..." I stopped him, grabbing both of his hands. His midnight blue eyes were so fragile, engulfed completely in grief. I felt my heart convulse in pain, and I impulsively wrapped my arms around him, the silent tears rolling down my cheeks as my heart ached and bled for him. I stroked his back and brushed his hair, trying to comfort him...

I felt him shudder, before he became to weep. He wrapped his arms around me, letting out cries of pain. I could feel it, the extent of his agony. It was so raw, so private... He sobbed, holding onto me as though i was the only thing that was keeping him from breaking apart. We cried together, and it was a long while before our tears finally dried up…