Chapter 45

255K 9K 5.4K
                                    

Time became an enemy after my visit with Dannon in the hospital.  It past slowly, excruciatingly so.  There seemed to be too much of it on my hands, the days moving by too slow.  Every moment felt like a year.  And, as time went on, the depression seemed to consume me.  I felt lost.  Lost and alone.  Everyone was being so mice, so comforting, but it just wasn’t enough.  I needed Dannon.

I breathed deeply, opening my eyes to the clear blue sky.  My hands fell to my sides, curling into the grass.  It had become a habit of mine: coming to the park and lying in the grass beneath the tree that I was certain was Dannon’s and mine.  Even though the memories hurt, I always took comfort in coming here.  I felt . . . connected with him somehow.  Odd, I know.  You’d think I’d feel connected to him in the hospital holding his hand.  But it was here where he seemed alive.

“Brianne.”

I looked up, sighing as I saw Kyla standing above me.  She shoved her hands into her pockets and stared down at me with sympathetic eyes.  I’d become accustomed to people looking at me this way.  Everyone at school knew that I wasn’t taking Dannon’s state well.  I mean, I didn’t really try hard to hide it.  They’d have to be idiots not to know.

“Hey, Kyla,” I murmured, sitting up.  I twisted around so that I leaned against the tree, letting my hair fall carelessly in front of my face.  I didn’t bother to fix it.  What was the point?

I watched through a shield of hair as my friend dropped beside me, settling onto the grass.  “I’m not going to insult you by asking how you are,” she said softly.  “We both know you feel like shit.”

Usually I would have smiled at her dry humor, but now I couldn’t even bring my lips to twitch.  I hadn’t smiled in almost a month now—ever since Dannon’s birthday.  Instead I barely shot her a glance before nodding.  “I appreciate that.” 

Kyla brought an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to her.  I didn’t push her away.  I let my head fall, closing my eyes.  It occurred to me that in movies the friends usually gave up on you after a while.  They were ready to move on, so you should have been too.  But no one had given up on me yet.  They all strived to achieve one goal: make the depressed girl happy again.

“You know, it may help to be around people.”  Kyla bit her lip, waiting for my reaction.  I wondered which reaction she was expecting.  Anger?  Maybe.  She was apprehensive, after all.  Maybe she thought I was going to blow up on her.  I didn’t really understand why.  I wasn’t all that capable of any emotion, really, unless it was despair.

I stared blankly across the park, barely taking in what she said.  I blinked, and my one-blurry surroundings became clear again.  An elderly couple was walking by with their hands interlaced together.  They smiled adoringly at each other.  I couldn’t help but wonder, how long had they been together?  Fifty years, maybe?  Sixty?  I bit my lip, trying to picture Dannon and I that old, still holding hands with loving expressions.

I couldn’t do it.

“Why is it so hard?” I whispered.  I glanced at Kyla with a teary expression.  “Why is love so damn hard?”

“Love isn’t hard,” Kyla said with a shake of the head.  “It’s the effects of love that can be difficult.”

I closed my eyes, moving my head from her shoulder and onto the bark of the tree.  “I try to smile,” I said softly.  “I try to act normal.  But I can’t.  Everything reminds me of him, everything.  And I can’t help it.  I can’t sleep because I only have nightmares.  And part of me wonders if it would be better if I was the one in the coma.  So much more peaceful.”

It All Started With An AppleWhere stories live. Discover now