His Safety Net

Chapter 50 | Final Chapter

Chapter 50

       My heart began to beat rapidly as Jerome pulled up to the place that I haven't been to for a while. I was starting to regret the idea of coming here, but I didn't want to back out. If I wanted to get better, I couldn't just run away or pretend certain things didn't happen.

       Jerome turned off his car and looked at me. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

       I hesitated before nodding, despite the pounding in my chest not even slowing down. "Y-yeah," I said, my stuttering also being being a sign that I might not be ready to do this. "I... probably just need a few minutes to prepare myself."

       "Okay," Jerome said. "Take your time."

       I leaned back in the seat to get comfortable since I knew I wasn't going to leave the car anytime soon, as much as part of me wanted. It wasn't that simple, though. I knew as soon as I entered the building, memories and thoughts I didn't want to think of would rush through me.

       Jerome could tell this was a bit too stressful for me right now because he said, "You know, you don't have to do this today if you're not fully ready."

       "I don't think I'll ever be fully ready," I said. "And if I keep holding it off until I am, I'll never come back here. This place used to be a happy place for me. The first time you brought me here, I had a lot of fun. I don't want to avoid coming here completely because of what I did."       

       And I was right. If I kept holding it off, I was never going to come back here. Just sitting in the car counted as holding it off, so I took off my seatbelt and carefully opened the door. Before I got out, I looked at Jerome. "Can... Can you come in with me?"

       "Yeah, of course," Jerome said.

       We both got out of the car but before we headed into the building, Jerome went to the trunk of his car. "What are you doing?" I asked.

       "I'm bringing in the paint," Jerome said. "Just in case you want to start painting or something. I know you turn to art when you need an outlet."

       I smiled softly at Jerome. He was right; I did turn to art whenever I needed an outlet. This was different, though. I was going to be in a very sensitive state of mine, so I didn't know if I would even have the energy to do anything artistic. But it was nice for Jerome to think of, anyway.

       Jerome took out the cloth bag with all the paint supplies before closing the trunk. The two of us then walked towards the building, despite the rapid heartbeat still present in my chest. I had to stop before we walked in so I could take a few deep breaths to try to calm myself down.

       And then I stepped into the place where I tried to kill myself.

       My heart still wouldn't slow its pace, but I had to face this. I was trying so hard to get batter, and I was doing so well. I kept thinking about this place so many times. How happy I was the first time Jerome took me here. I said nothing to him about my love for art, yet he paid enough attention to notice it. He brought me here because he knew I would love it.

       And I turned it into a bad memory for myself.

       I looked at my painting on the wall, the last thing I saw before the attempt. Right as I looked at it, not only did my heart starting beating even faster but my chest was starting to feel compressed as well.

       I really didn't want to have a panic attack now of all times when I was trying to face this.

       "I haven't been here since that night as well," Jerome said quietly.