Paper Trails 2 | Draft

17.

"Some people are simply born with tragedy in their blood."

*****

I was with Tyler.

We were on a bridge, sitting on the ledge. Lean too far forward and...we'd fall into the cold, dark waters below.

This wasn't the Tyler I knew, though. This was Tyler as a child. I could see it, though, it was him. His hair may be brown, and he may be a pre-teen, but it was him. His face was still narrow, his eyes were still a beautiful brown. He sat on my left, staring straight ahead. I lifted a hand and gently caressed his face.

"Why are we here?" I asked him softly.

He blinked. "I don't know. I like it. It's quiet...and it's loud."

A plane flies above us. I look up at the sky. It was clear, blue. A perfect contrast to the world around us. Everything else seemed so dark and gloomy.

"Do you want to see something?" He turns his head to look at me, a boyish grin growing on his face.

My lips lifted a little. "Okay."

His hand went to my cheek. It felt cold. Freezing cold. "Don't be scared."

"Of what?"

He didn't answer. His hand left my face and he faced forward again. My eyebrows furrowed. And suddenly he was tipping forward, his fingers leaving the ledge.

"No!" I reached for him, but it was too late. He was falling, falling. I pushed myself off, jumping after him.

Darkness engulfed us both.

When my eyes opened, I was in a basement, laying on the floor. I sat up quickly, looking around. There was a light tapping noise coming from somewhere and I turned, me eyes landing on a white freezer. I slowly stood up and took hesitant steps toward it. The tapping grew softer and softer, and by the time I reached it, it was silent. There was a padlock keeping it shut.

I glanced at the wall behind it where tools were hanging. I reached for the axe. It felt heavy in my hands, but not too heavy that I couldn't swing it.

I stepped back a little and readied myself. Then I swung. Once, twice...third time's the charm.

The lock busted. I tossed the axe to the side and kneeled down, pulling the lock free. I opened the freezer door, and a wave of cold air hit my face.

"Oh my God," I murmured. Inside lay an unconscious Tyler. He was cradling his injured left hand to his chest, his fingers a dark purplish color. His lips were blue, and his skin was already paling and discoloring. I carefully tucked my arms underneath him and pulled him out, my heart aching in my chest.

I spotted a blanket on a couch and grabbed it, immediately wrapping it around him. I rubbed at his arms in attempt to warm him up faster, and held him to my chest.

His eyelids lifted and he looked at me with tired eyes. Softly, he spoke. "I'm sorry."

"No, baby, don't be. Don't be." I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his head. "It isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."