02. Memories

                                    

                                          
*WARNING*
Suicidal thoughts occur in this chapter and maybe a trigger for some readers. 
                          
For help, you can always call the national suicidal prevention lifeline at - ‭1 (800) 273-8255‬
                          
Chapter Two.
                          
-
                          
          The car ride home from school has been quiet and tense. It feels as if my airway is closing in on me the longer I stay in this car. Cameron has asked me how I'm feeling and doing about thirty-five times now. 
                          
Everyone knows you don't ask someone who's not okay, if they're okay, because then they won't be okay. And I am not okay. 
                          
I want to be annoyed with him, but I know I don't have the right.
                          
 "How was your first day back? Are you doing okay?" I roll my eyes and take a deep breath to calm my nerves. He won't quit until he gets an answer.
                          
"Cam, for the last time, I am fine. It's school, it's not like it can be good." He laughs at this response, though I'm not sure what's funny. I was being serious.
                          
 "Did anyone ask where you've been?" He prods gently. I take a minute to look out the window and collect myself. I wish Cam knew when to quit pushing things. I feel like I'll cry the moment I try to speak a full sentence.
                          
"Yea. A few." I manage to squeak out and my hand instinctively curls around the door handle when our apartment building comes into view. I've almost made it.
                          
"What did you say?"                                                                                                     
                          
"That I was on vacation in Hawaii." I smart off, wishing so badly that was the truth; He nods missing the sarcasm, and we pull into the garage.
                          
I look straight past her empty door and enter my bedroom. I shut my door and lock it and then let myself collapse onto my bed. The moment my head bounces onto the pillow my eyes lock onto the unpacked boxes haunting my closet. The memories crash on top of me like a flood.                                                                
                          
Bright lights. Blood. Death.
                          
As hard as I try to remember the details, I'm still left with nothing. It infuriates me. I can't hold in the rage building and I grab my pillow and scream into it. I scream until my throat scrapes raw from the burning of my unshed tears begging to spill.
                          
This isn't real, please don't be real. It can't be. . .
                          
I hug my knees to my chest and rock myself to sleep, hoping that my nightmares will take a break for once.
                          
✽✽✽
                          
I'm drowning inside a cold black ocean of sorrow. 
My heart shatters my bones with each aching beat. 
                          
         Footsteps tapper behind me and I squint into the darkness as a shadow emerges. It's a child, he stops when I look at him, shadows hover over parts of his face. His piercing sapphire eyes lock onto mine and he takes a step out of the darkness. Fear succumbs my body as I turn around and try to run. The floor oozes beneath me engulfing my feet in its debilitating slime as it pulls me under.
                          
The little boys' white shirt, now stained red, burns at the edges as blood trickles down his busted head. I take special notice of the thick tear-shaped blood running down his rosy left cheek. His feet are free from the darkness succumbing me and he takes another step forward. I scan his curly blonde hair and recognition grips me by my throat.