The Worst Days of Our Lives

Chapter 25: Chance

She was actually here, in his arms, legs collapsed beneath her and mouth hanging open, but she was here. She was still hanging motionlessly from his arms and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to move or respond to the far shouts most-likely coming from Jessica. He had found her, she was actually here. in this moment, now. Nevertheless, all Chance could seem to think was

‘This is worse than the time her brother had left for basic training.’

Cass had been so beyond wasted, that she found herself the next morning cuddling a loaf of bread and laying across her parents beer pong table. Chance had heard all the details from the crazy night’s events, thanks to Cass’s parents, no less. Cassandra was always embarrassed about how crazy she had gone that night, but her parents were almost oddly proud.

What made Chance think that this was worse was, Cass never threw up, or blacked out when drinking. She hardly ever woke up with a hangover, but now as Chance was still frozen, with this one thought in mind, Cass had blacked out and was now gagging. Finally, the thoughts of why it was worse and her past drunk experiences clicked. Chance snapped into action, realizing he was holding her in such a way that she might suffocate if she finally did drunkenly vomit.

Gently he lifted up her torso and pulled her legs back, gently tipping her forward but still supporting her entire weight. So many odd things were happening that Chance was unsure how to feel, he had a whole range of emotions to choose from. Joy, confusion, anger, sadness, he was so overwhelmed he continued to focus on remaining calm, not allowing all the thoughts that were streaming into his mind take hold.

However, no amount of will power could stop the elated feeling that was bubbling through his chest. Cassandra, she was here, on the verge of throwing up on the sidewalk, wasted, underweight, red-haired and so many other factors he had never imagined when he pictured finding her but the moment was still here.

Chance was eager to begin asking questions, where had she been, what happened to her kidnapper, why was she drunk in front of a liquor store, if her kidnapper wasn’t around, why hadn’t she come home? He was compiling his list of interrogation questions when he felt a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

“Chance, sweetie, I know you have a soft spot for homeless drunks, but why exactly are you cradling this one on the sidewalk of a ghetto liquor store?” Chance couldn’t help but laugh, to Jessica, that was all this was, Chance finally losing his mind, he shook his head, “No, this is Cassandra.” Saying her name, speaking that phrase, instantly made a smile come to his face. Jessica's eyes widened and she looked at Cass then back at Chance, “This is her?” she asked almost in a whisper.

Jessica had helped Chance in immensely every day, she had made it capable for Chance to function daily, without having to stop because of terrible memories. She helped him cope and grieve for the loss, something he had never had a chance to do properly. Chance was completely grateful for everything Jessica had done for him, she couldn’t have come into his life at a better time. Chance felt as though Jessica had saved him.

Through all of this, Jessica had formed a pretty accurate idea of what Cassandra had looked like, acted like, how Chance felt for her, and what Chance would do if he ever found her. As soon as she agreed to stay with Chance, knowing there would always be another girl more important than herself, she knew there was a chance he would leave her if Cassandra was ever found. But it had been nearly 3 years, Jessica was almost certain she would never have anything to worry about. Nevertheless, here she was, appearing to be nothing like the Cassandra she had imagined, but also appearing to be completely able to take Chance back in her life.

Jessica and Chance were now both filled with an overwhelming mix of emotions, they both looked as if they were about to collapse into a pile of uncontrolled feels. Chance, brimming with a mixture of delight and confusion, Jessica with sadness and compassion. Yes, she loved Chance and did not want to lose him, but he had finally found her, she couldn’t imagine the chaos that was racking his brain.

What were the odds, that the small detour they took to help them reach their hotel in Savannah, would’ve led them straight to Cassandra. Chance was now thinking this was a miracle, he was ready to start jumping up and down, screaming his thanks to the universe. She was back, she could be his, but most of all, she was alive. Jessica wasn’t currently a thought on his mind, every day for three years, he had thought about Cassandra at least once, she was his obsession and he finally had her.

While both Chance and Jessica experienced their own, very different meltdowns of emotion, seconds melted into minutes until, after several of those long minutes, Cassandra began to come to. With a gurgling moan and lurching motion forward, Cassandra spilt all the alcohol in her stomach out into the parking lot. Sitting down behind her, Chance murmured to Cassandra gently and rubbed her back, making sure to hold all of her hair away from her face.

When she was finished, she collapsed backwards, resting against Chance, gasping for air. Her face was contorted into a look of pain and she grasped at her stomach with a pale white hand. Chance really looked at her then, her hair a dark, velvety red, not the bright vibrancy of Jessica’s, he wondered why, of all things, she dyed her hair. She was wearing simple leggings with a baggy t-shirt with the name of some sort of construction company scrawled across the fabric. Although the shirt was many, many sizes too big for her small form, Chance could still see, and feel for that matter, just how small she really was. He could feel her ribs protruding out of her back and digging into his thighs where she was resting. When he was rubbing her back, he could feel her shoulders, rigid and bony colliding with his hand. Her hips were non-existent, a feat he never thought he would see, a curve-less Cassandra.

Chance had loved those features, the way each section of her body gently sloped into the next, all of these now hard edges were once soft and supple. Slowly he began to get angry, with whom he was unsure. The confusion was really ruling his mind at this point, because he was unable to comprehend why she would let this happen to herself, but what if she didn’t? What if it was the kidnappers fault? But if the kidnapper was responsible for this, where was he now?

Now with vigor, he tried to bring Cassandra around to full consciousness, completely in reality so he could get some answers. “Cassandra,” he spoke gently, brushing the hair out of her closed eyes and nudging her face gently, “Cassandra can you hear me?” The way her eyelids crinkled, like she was squinting to try and stop the noise, told Chance she could hear him. Ever so gently, Chance persisted in trying to get her to open her eyes and look at him. Finally, her eye lashes flickered once, twice, three times before she pried her eyelids open like they weighed a thousand pounds. She continued to blink as she looked at him, focusing her vision on his face. Cassandra looked confused for a long time before realization broke through her face and she whispered, “Chance?”