Broken Light

~ Chapter Five ~

I watch Lexie clean our room. She cleans each section with a tremendous amount of care and never looks my way once. I know I need to say something, but I can't quite decide where to begin. Last night when I came back from the hospital, everyone was asleep. Jules was sleeping in his room and poor Lexie had fallen from exhaustion onto the couch. I knew she had been worried. I could tell by her expression.

"So, is there anything you want me to do?" I ask, remembering how females generally like it when a man helps with the housework. I had taken two weeks off from writing articles for the Metro Newspaper and my editor seemed pretty lenient with giving me some time off, knowing that I would never miss work without a reasonable excuse. This had given me the perfect opportunity to make it up to Lexie. And Jules.

"Here. Go through this messy box of yours and see what you want and what you don't," she says as she shoves a huge, brown box towards me. "It's all yours." I nod at her, even though I know she's not looking at me, and take my things to the patio where I can get some fresh air. I sit on a cold, metal chair and put everything on the table to my right. I open the box and see some old clothes on the top. The clothes would still fit me fine but I'd never wear them again. Not in a million years. They were from around the time I was in university, and thankfully, my taste was no longer the same. I shove the clothes to the side and bring a bunch of notebooks out next. The sight of them makes me want to gag. I take one glance at my scribbly writing from the end of high school and automatically shove them all onto the ground.

When I reach in again and feel a hardcover, I become truly disappointed in myself for keeping a book for so long. I'm about to shove the book onto the floor when I catch a glimpse of my school name on the cover. That's when it hits me; the hardcover wasn't for a textbook but for a yearbook, the yearbook of my graduating year.

I flip through the pages, recognizing familiar faces I hadn't seen in so long. I see Mike Allan: the jock of our grade, Liam Burt: the computer nerd, Sarah Cade: the beauty queen, and Alex Clane: the boy who everybody loved. I stare at his picture for a long time, focussing on his vibrant blue eyes. He looked genuinely happy and content with the life he had, and well, he was. I can't help but curse the bastard who hit him once again.

I keep on flipping through the pages, knowing that the thought of Alex would only bring back the memories of him all hurt and lifeless on the hospital bed. I run into my own photo and try hard not to cringe. The freckles on my pale, scrawny face are the first thing I notice. I've always hated my freckles, and thankfully, they had started to disappear after high school. Looking at the photo now, I really wish I'd put a comb through my stringy, brown curls. I continue to flip through the pages, and the faces soon become less and less familiar.

And that's when I see her.

Her slim face makes her dark brown eyes pop out and the straight black hair covering most of her face does a great job at emphasizing how big her eyes truly are. She has her head held up high and her pursed smile makes her nothing other than intimidating. My fingers hover her picture, remembering all the trust and memories I'd built along with her.

I promised her I'd never forget her, and I intend to keep that promise. After all, forgetting a person like Renee Torstan was anything but possible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I sat down on one of the chairs in the room. If someone had to guess, they'd most likely think that we were about to start an actual class rather than a therapy session. I made a mental note to thank my counsellor once again for all the crapload she'd dumped on me. My life wouldn't have been the same without her.

Everyone was on their phone, scrolling through whatever social media website they were on. I started tapping my foot, already staring at the clock and counting down to when the dreadful hour would be over.