Forked Roads Back

13 - ARCHIE

AS THE YEAR WENT on, life was starting to get a little bit easier.

As I threw myself into college and getting myself, my body and my spirits better, I started to listen when people told me that time heals things. I thought it was a load of crap before... but as the days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months, I'm starting to think that maybe they're right.

Sure, I still wake up some nights, screaming at the top of my lungs, covered in sweat, but it's very infrequent. Okay, fine, that one dream in a fortnight is ten times worse, but at least nine nights out of ten, I'm able to sleep. And with that my body has finally been able to heal.

Telling Millie everything helped. And I really did tell her everything. I told her how I spent days crying in my room whilst they were all downstairs. I told her about what happened, every single gritty detail of what happened to Matt and me that day... and I told her about the nightmares. About how I am forced to relive it every night because it was my punishment for doing what I did.

But Millie helped. She held my hand, she told me everything would be okay, and even though the words felt patronising to start with, I think getting them out in the open with someone who knew me really helped. Having someone know who could understand just how much I lost that day helped... and as the days went on, the dreams did finally start to disappear. Having someone who knew everything I went through that day - even if it can't be Tessa anymore - means I am no longer alone. And I think my subconscious is starting to know that.

With a quieter subconscious, there came new friends from college as well, on top of the few friends I've managed to make during my time in physical therapy. I've grown closer to Lara mostly, given she shares my session times, and afterwards I stay and keep her company for a while, talking about anything and everything except what landed us both in such a mess in the first place. Out of the few new friends I had managed to make, she gets me most. She gets that I've been through a lot, and that I don't want to talk about it, and is happy to be there for me until I am ready to talk about it. And that is exactly what I need at the moment.

Since my operations, I'd been in physical therapy for several months now. Today will be my last session this week before Christmas, and I'm only just realising how close to Christmas it really is.

As I walk into the lobby, I finally notice the huge Christmas tree up, decked head to toe in bright, flashing lights, with huge boxes of presents underneath. The nurses and staff are all dressed in reindeer antlers or elf hats, and as I make my way through the corridors towards the private physical therapy ward, I feel a hole open up inside me at the thought of potentually spending Christmas Day alone this year.

Last year I had Millie, and it was just the two of us. It felt strange to be just the two of us given the year before we'd had such a beautiful time with the Grangers. But we made up for it as much as we could, with Millie buying a turkey big enough for fifteen people, which we ate in front of the TV. She stayed for New Year too - we were still just about eating leftovers at that point - and she saw me off on my first day of college in January, which was nice. Weird, but nice. She literally walked me to the administration building as if she was Mum, but I suppose she was just checking I was going.

Today, nearly a year later, I was unsure whether Millie would come. She was supposed to come, or rather she had promised she'd come back in November, but now it all depended on final exams and Greg's final surf competitions of the year, which were over in Australia. A couple of days ago I'd had a text to say it may be New Year rather than Christmas, so I was fully resigned to be eating takeaway in front of the TV by myself this year.

Despite the previous memories I'd had - the good and the bad - the one thing I do absolutely love about New York at Christmas is how excited everybody gets. I feel like the atmosphere changes as soon as Thanksgiving is over, with lights on every lamppost, taxi drivers wearing Santa hats and Christmas messages and decorations everywhere. Once December officially hits, everyone wishes you a Merry Christmas, and as I make my way down the final corridor towards Lara's room, the Merry Christmasses keep on coming. I nod as an acceptance of each one, and sigh with relief at having reached Lara's room without encountering too many.