oblivion - nathan prescott

planned.

Her office smelt like fresh cut grass, it was odd, but it was the only thing I would miss about this place.
"How are you feeling about leaving?" Nancy asked, before taking a sip of her tea,
"I'm fucking shitting myself, Nancy," I sighed, "I have no idea where the fuck I'm going,"
"Your father called," She announced, I scoffed,
"He fucking what? What did he say?"
"He got a place for you," She said, I laughed,
"Of course he fucking did," I rolled my eyes, "I can only assume it's an hour's drive away from his house, at least,"
"You'll still be living in Arcadia Bay, Beth," She smiled, I didn't, "Just, not with him," She stood up and pulled out sheets of paper from her desk, "He faxed me these," She passed them to me,  I scanned through them,
"Blackwell? Are you fucking kidding me?" I sighed,  "I'm not going back there. No fucking way!"
"Elizabeth, it'll open up so many opportunities for your photography," She spoke hopefully, I clenched my jaw.  I haven't picked up a camera in 6 months, let alone thought about going back to Blackwell to study it, "Give it a chance. You'll get back into the swing of things."

The thoughts of going back to Blackwell had kept me awake all night. Will things be the same? Will people remember me? Will she remember me? How badly did we fuck everything up?

It had been a week since the last group, which meant it was only time that it happened again. I groaned and pulled the rough sheets off my body and felt the cold air attack my legs, I slid on a pair of jeans, threw on my jumper, tied up my long, dark hair into a pony tail and began to make my way to the large room.
I turned down the hallway and began walking towards the door until I entered the room where the chairs were set up in their usual circle and people had already taken their seats, I sat down and took mine.
"Elizabeth!" Mr. Watson sighed, "You're still here. You don't want to leave us!" People around the circle began to laugh, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He carried on with what he was meant to be conducting in today's productive group session, "Traumatic events often have large effects on people around the victim, some of the victim's friends and family sometimes start to feel like a victim. Have any of you experienced this?" There was a long pause and I began to pick at the skin around my nails,
"There was this one girl," A voice suddenly spoke, I jumped, "Her friend disappeared, and three months later the girl had vanished too, some people say she jumped off a cliff, some say she jumped in front of a train, others say she fucked off to L.A. I think she just went fucking crazy and ended up in a place like this," Nathan continued to speak, I looked up at him, his eyes were locked on mine and I immediately looked down. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment and my heart was thumping against my ribs as he continued to talk, "I mean, she wasn't even the one who had gone through that shit but it caused her to do whatever the fuck she did. If she's still alive, I wouldn't be surprised if she smokes a pack a day or drinks to forget what happened to her dear friend." God, he was so fucking condescending.

That was the first and last thing he said for the whole session, I sat in anger and shame for the rest of it. He seemed pretty proud of himself when I joined him outside, slamming the door behind me,
"What's your problem, Nathan?" He turned around, his hands shoved in his pockets of his red jacket,
"Do you have a smoke?"
"What's your fucking problem, Nathan?" I asked again, this time raising my voice,
"Do you have a fucking smoke?" He asked again, also raising his voice.
"Why would you say something like that?"
"I just want a fucking cigarette, fuck!" He yelled, sitting down on the bench, I walked over to him and sat next to him,
"I do," I whispered, he looked over at me,
"What?"
"I do miss her," I repeated, "I thought I saw her the other day. I was in the halls and I thought I saw her go around the corner. I swear to fucking God, Nathan. My heart has never beat so quickly before as I looked for her," A warm tear fell down my cold cheek, "Then I remembered seeing her body. It was so... Limp, cold, just... Empty. I keep telling myself that it wasn't her, that whatever we took that night fucked us up, hard, and maybe she went to L.A. But then I remember the police and the interviews. It, it was so fucking real," Nathan didn't even look at me when he stood up. I heard his footsteps get quieter, the door opened, his footsteps disappeared and the door shut. My body began to shake with the tears that were pouring out of my eyes. This was the first time I had allowed myself to cry since she had died. I missed her, so fucking much.