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Even after I stop screaming.
Even when the rain stops.
Even when the sun starts to go down, and it gets all dark in our house.
Momma holds me.
And Dad is still gone.
And later, much later, when I’m tucked into bed, with my headphones over my head, and my CD player all fixed; and Momma’s holding me from behind as I stare at the Avengers poster on my wall, my eyes crusty and puffy with no more tears to cry…
I tell myself it’ll be okay, just like she did.
It’ll be okay, because he will come back.
I just know it.
He’d never leave me. And Momma would never keep him away—she wouldn’t survive without him. He said so. I heard him. Not today, but other times. She doesn’t want to die, does she?
I just have to be good—be better—be tougher.
I’ll show him. I’ll be strong and good like Captain America, and he’ll come back.
The music blares in my ears, but Momma doesn’t make me turn it down this time. She just pets my head, stroking my hair, and holds me tight. And I let her because Dad’s not here, and it feels good, and I’m scared the bad scratches and the fast breaths will come back if she lets go.
When the song ends, I hit the back button again, restarting it.
It’s my favorite one.
I hum along with it, playing it over and over and over again until I fall asleep, until I can no longer tell the difference between the guy singing in my ears about waking up and dying dreams, music and getting what you give?—
I won’t let go.
I won’t.
—and my own voice in my head, saying over and over and over again?—
He’ll come back.
I won’t let go.
I won’t give up.
I won’t.
I won’t.
CHAPTER TWO
It all starts with a twist of pinkies, a kiss to dirt-chapped knuckles, spit, and a wish thrown at the stars.
“JJ?” my sister calls out in a loud whisper, leaves and sticks crunching and crackling with each step deeper into the woods pressing up against our backyard.
She’s trying to be quiet, I think, but she’s really bad at it.
I bury my face in my arms, curling myself into an even tighter ball. The tree I sit against digs roughly into my curved spine, but I don’t bother moving, even though I know she’ll find me soon.
She always does.
