That's when I see it—a smear of something on Tyler's shirt. Not a casual stain, though. Most people wouldn't notice. But I've had enough bloodstains on my clothes to recognize one.
I'm off the couch before my brain can catch up. A scream rips through the music. The beer slips from my fingers, the bottle shattering at my feet, and the familiar sting of it splashes my shoes as I run toward the sound. Roman is the first to stand, rushing ahead of everyone heading in the direction of the bathroom, eager to see what the commotion’s about.
And that’s when it hits me.
Mary.
Damon and Ace are in front of me as we barrel into the crowd. The hallway feels too narrow, and a knot of something like ice tightens my chest. The bathroom door stands cracked, obvious candlelight flickering behind it.
When I reach the threshold, Roman is blocking the doorway, not letting me past him.
"No, Seb, you don't need to see this." His voice is flat, his eyes begging me to listen. Whatever’s on the other side is bad enough to spook him.
“Get the fuck off me.” I manage to push him away from me, catching the look of defeat on his face.
The small candle flickers on the edge of the sink. Next to it sits a photo—the one from my room. Us, younger, together. Her smile. My stupid blush. The flame casts long shadows across the room.
I grab the photo, looking down at it. Everything happens so fast when I turn around. That’s when I see her.
The photo in my hand falls to the floor with a soft, wet slap. The sound shatters me as I drop to my knees at the edge of the tub, breath tearing out of me. The water isn't water anymore—it's a red tide, thick and clinging, spreading across the floor. My chest locks tight, ribs coiled like barbed wire. I can't breathe. My hands hover before finding her cheek.
Cold.
Stiff.
Wrong.
"Mary." Her name rips out of me, jagged and broken. "Mary. Baby, open your eyes." The only sound I'm met with is the faucet dripping.
I drag her out of the tub, and her body folds against me, heavy and limp. My arms shake beneath her weight. Blood seeps into my clothes, sticky and warm. The smell is so sharp. Tears blur everything. I bury my face in her wet hair.Lavender shampoo. Aflash of her grinning at the grocery store, tossing the same bottle at me.
"Now you'll smell like me," she said, a beautiful smile on her face.
The memory cuts so deep I double over with her in my arms. My stomach clenches, bile clawing its way up my throat. My vision goes black around the edges, and I can't tell if it's from the smell, the blood, or the sight of her pale skin.
My chest convulses. I can't seem to pull in any air. My hands shake violently, useless, pressing against her wrists with a shirt that's already soaked through.
“Please," I rasp, voice shredded raw. "Don't you dare fucking leave me. I'll fix everything! I'll fix it! Just breathe. Please. Just breathe.” But there is no flicker. My ears fill with a roar of my own heartbeat, pounding until I think I'll pass out.
I rock her against me, desperate, my mind clawing for anything to hold onto.
Another flash from the past, but this time I'm holding her back in our group home. She was half-asleep on my chest, whispering,"Don't let me go."
"I didn't,” I sob, my voice breaking. "I never let you go.You did.Don't fucking let go, Mary!"
Sirens howl closer, a roar outside the walls of this house. My vision swims. My arms spasm from holding her, but I don't loosen my grip. My chest heaves, no air going in, only choking sobs coming out.
The sharp corner of the photo digs into my palm, my blood mixing with hers. I can't stop rocking, can't stop shaking, can't stop praying to a God I don't believe in.
And when my forehead presses to hers, the truth burns me.
I killed the only person who ever truly mattered.
Eventually, someone comes in, gripping my shoulder, but my eyes don’t leave Mary’s face.
“The ambulance is almost here. Everyone’s cleared out of the house.” Not giving him any sign that I heard, I stare down at Mary, my tears still silently tracking down my face.
The only sign of being alone is his footsteps fading down the hall. I sit here for what feels like forever, wishing she’d open her eyes. I’m left in a deafening silence, holding the only person who’s ever mattered, tears streaming down my face as my heart grows black.
