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The guilt and shame built until I almost couldn’t stand it. I wanted to beg Nathan to come with me and confess to the cops. I prayed to God every night for them to understand that it was an accident.
But no one ever came.
And the memories slowly faded.
Especially that summer, when Nathan was gone and the reminders lessened and grew fewer.
Even when I went back to school, somehow life became normal and sleep came back to me. The nightmares subsided and I became the person I once was.
That’s a true crime. Living without repenting, and life is well with it all.
It’s funny how the oddest thing would bring me back, and it would hurt even more. Because I’d moved on and never confessed. I swallow the thought; it scratches my dry throat on the way down.
My turn signal clicks and I look up to see that I’m at the intersection of Second Street where I should be turning. The drive went by so fast. My foot twitches on the brake, and the car rocks forward slightly at the stop sign. I need to take a right to go home, but that’s not where I’m going.
My muscles tense and a voice in my head screams at me not to be so stupid. Not to go down here. The voice says I know better. The voice tells me it’s all my fault for being so stupid.
The voice says I deserve this and I’ll pay.
Funny how that gives me slight comfort. Or maybe it’s just sad.
The streets don’t look as scary as they once did. Maybe because they’re empty. I huff a pathetic laugh at the thought. The boogeyman doesn’t sit on the street corner; he hides in the shadows. My eyes flicker down the narrow alleyways, but I don’t see anyone.
Goosebumps travel over my body as a chill makes its way slowly down my spine.
I don’t even start to have second thoughts until I’m pulling into the church parking lot, parking under one of the three lights. To my right is the liquor store. It’s still the same. It even has the same sign, although it’s weathered now. Just a few blocks down is where it happened. But there’s nowhere to park down there. Not that I want to.
None of it would have happened if I hadn’t sneaked out that night to meet him at Nina’s. It would have ended so much worse if Nathan hadn’t come.
The sound of crickets fills the car. I never noticed them before. They’re loud, but when I twist the keys in the ignition, turning it off, the sounds hesitate briefly then go back to chirping just as loudly as before.
Laying my head back, I finally try to think about what I need.
I just want to tell someone. I want someone to understand that I didn’t mean it.
I want Nathan to forgive me, rather than pretend like it didn’t happen.
That’s what hurts the most.
But even if he did forgive me, that wouldn’t make it okay.
I’m lost and alone. And that’s the worst feeling there ever is. It’s the one Nathan chose for the both of us. But I’m the one who chose it now.
I have to tell him something, I don’t know what though. Reaching into my bag, I feel around for my phone, but keep my eyes up and looking out of the window. A couple comes out of the liquor store, talking loudly and the sound of the crickets doesn’t let up. It seems they don’t mind the voices as they carry across the street. They’re no danger so far away.
My phone lights up as I turn it on and see three missed calls from my mom. My finger hovers over the callback button, but I give in.
I don’t have a plan and I know my mom will want me to come home. Not tonight though. I’ll just spend one night by myself in a hotel somewhere or drive back to the city, although I’m already starting to feel the weight of the last few weeks settle down on me.
Just one more night to try to get my head on right. Although I may just have to drive all the way back. I left most of my stuff there anyway. Might as well.
“Harlow, baby.” She picked up on the first ring. “How are you doing, baby girl?” I hear my dad yell in the background, “Tell our star I’m so proud of her.”
My voice hitches and I have to clear my throat as I talk into the phone. “I miss you, Mom,” I answer honestly and tap my finger on the wheel as I tell her, “I’m coming home tomorrow and didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”
“Harlow, baby. I just want you to come home.”
“I don’t know what I want right now,” I say but add, “But I’ll be home tomorrow. Promise.”
