"If you want to try again, I've learned a few things since then and now I'm sure... I would make it so, so good for you..." Luke pulls back, a troublemakers grin on his lips. "You wouldn't be able to forget it."
...
As the days pass, it's hard, when I can hear the laughter of Hunter and his roommates, their girlfriends, too, not to think about everything I left behind. Not to remember Bash planning with Brynn, fingers covered in paint while we sang along to her summer playlist. Not to think of Luke's deep laugh or his sarcastic jokes.
As the days pass, and I waste my time sitting on Hunter's couch, mindlessly watching whatever they have decided on, it's hard not to think about the surf beneath my board, cold plunges in the ocean, the sun beating down on my skin.
It's hard not to miss them. To miss the life I was rebuilding.
But every time I think too long on it, I'm reminded of my last night in town, of all the lies, and I'm too angry to miss anything.
Except Casey.
With a sigh, my usual form of communication these days, I reach into the shower and turn the knob as hot as it will go. Slumping onto the toilet seat, I wait for the room to steam up, the air growing thick and foggy.
My thoughts travel to the accident yet again, my mind struggling to picture my brother behind the wheel.
If missing Casey was difficult, this is impossible - missing him while trying to reconcile that after all this time, he was the one to take himself from me in the end.
My chest tightens at the mere suggestion, my stomach roiling. Throat constricting, I shove the thoughts from my brain, rushing into the shower so the hot stream will burn my skin, burn any of the bad thoughts, bad feelings away.
Hissing quietly as the steaming water pelts my back, I try to find the numbness I used to live in somewhere deep inside me. Luke said moving on lets you feel other things, too, not just the sad, but now... Now I don't want to feel anything at all.
Lathering my hair with shampoo, I fight to keep my mind blank.
But every time I close my eyes, there they are. Mom. Dad. Luke. Grams.
Lies, lies, lies.
Anger swells inside me, twisting like a knife to my heart.
I tip my head back in the stream to rinse the suds from my head, and my eyes fall closed.
The news broadcast I caught when Mom was too busy planning the funeral to notice. Luke's Jeep, the front end smashed into the tree. The glass everywhere. I never saw the more gruesome details but my brain fills in the blanks, pummeling me with images of Casey's distorted body thrown onto the pavement. There's blood, so much of it, and somewhere Luke is hurt, too.
Nausea washes over me and I gag, trying to erase the image of a bloodied, broken, mangled Casey from my mind.
But then I just see him behind the wheel and finally, I keel over, hands on my knees as bile creeps up my throat.
The steam couples with my nausea to choke the air from my lungs, and suddenly I'm reaching for my wrist, for the leather cord I keep tied there, for my only connection left to my brother.
My heart stops. Physically stutters painfully in my chest.
My wrist is bare.
Frantically, I wrap my other hand around my naked wrist, twisting again and again like it will make the shoe lace appear. Breaths coming faster, too fast, I throw the shower curtain open, leaning over the edge to search my clothing on the floor.
Nothing.
Like a chicken with its head cut off, I fly around the bathroom, on my hands and knees searching for the scrappy piece of leather. The tears make it impossible to see but I continue to search anyways, using my hands to feel for the softened, worn out cord.
I can't find it. I can't find it, I can't find it.
I swipe my arm over the countertop beside the sink, flinging products to the floor, hoping it'll be mixed in with the girlfriends hair ties and skin care, but to no avail.
It's gone. Gone, like Casey. Just gone.
I suck a ragged breath through my lips, but it's more a strangled sob than anything. The steam continues to build and I cry harder, shoving my fist to my mouth to quiet the sounds I'm making.
It's gone.
My chest cracks wide open and I feel like screaming just to let some of the hurt out. Instead I fight for air but can't get any. Inhaling steam, my heart begins to pound faster and faster, my vision blurring.
Somehow, gasping for air or relief, I drag myself through the puddles I've created on the floor until I'm back in the shower, curling my arms around my knees as I rock back and forth on the tiled floor. The water continues to burn my skin, coloring it bright red.
Casey. The lies they told me. The crushed Jeep. The scarred asphalt. Luke. The leather sneakers and stupid leather laces.
My breath, sucking in and exhaling far too fast, whooshes in my ears.
The shoe lace. The fucking shoe lace.
Tears stream down my face so heavily I don't know what is shower stream and what is self-produced.
Grams and Mom and Dad and Case behind the wheel.
Casey behind the wheel.
I clutch at my chest, scratching my skin as I try to tear it open and get the air in, my heart beating so fast it hurts.
Casey behind the wheel. Casey through the windshield.
Casey.
Casey, Casey, Casey.
I'm still curled in a ball on the floor long after the time the shower runs cold.
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this is such a sad chapter for the holidays season, I promise there will be another one soon! This one was supposed to be longer... but I decided I wanted this moment to really have it's time and stick ❤️ I've got the Christmas Covid over here - how is everyone else's holiday season going?
