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So many emotions and thoughts run through me and it’s so overwhelming. I can’t even begin to describe it. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe it’s time to start a journal. I need to get my thoughts and feelings out before I explode.
I sit up in bed and grab the journal and pen I put by my bedside last night. I was hoping I would get inspired at some point to start writing and it seems like now is a good time.
So I write. I write out everything I’m thinking and feeling, letting it pour out of me like a waterfall. How sad and angry I am. How all I get left of Mason is just memories and thoughts and emotions. But what I really want is my brother, not just a memory of him. We will never be able to make new memories anymore. He’s going to miss things that he shouldn’t have to miss. And something with Asher could never happen now. Because that’s really what caused all this isn’t it? If I hadn’t argued with Mason that night in the car, would he have crashed? I still wonder why I decided to ask him that night, why I decided to be so brave. And I remember his reaction that I should’ve expected. He was totally against us, and now that he’s gone I will respect his wishes no matter what. Because that’s what he wants and I’m not gonna go against what he wants just because he’s not here anymore.
It’ll be hard to turn off my feelings for Asher. I can’t just cut him out of my life. We need each other right now, both of our connections to Mason are strong. It’ll help us get through this tragedy together. It’s not fair to Asher to lose two of his friends. Losing one is hard enough.
Besides just how I feel, I write about my dreams, and how I see the future as if Mason never died. Or how he tells me to continue going on, even though I feel like it’s impossible.
And then I also write down memories. I write about times when me and Mason were growing up. I also write about memories with Asher because he was a huge part of our lives and still very much is. He misses Mason just as much as I do, and it worries me that he holds it all up inside.
After writing until my hand hurts, the journal is already halfway full. I put it down feeling completely spent but a little lighter. Now I want to run. Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and stretching. I follow my old path that Mason and I used to take all the time. It brings me down along the shore and over to our high school. When I get to the football field, I decided to run around the track for a while. It’s something Mason and I used to do a lot.
Just as I get through the gate I see a figure I recognize. When I get closer, I realize it’s Asher.
I pause for a moment, suddenly out of breath more than I thought. I watch as he circles the track, and as he gets closer, he finally sees me and stops.
“Hey.” I say as he walks towards me. We’re both really out of breath.
“Hey. How are you?”
“All right, I guess.” I shrug.
We both stand there awkwardly as we try to catch our breath. The past couple of texts I’ve sent him have gone unanswered and I’m surprised to see him here.
Asher takes a deep breath and breaks the silence. “I was actually going to call you today. I’m sorry I haven’t returned your text. The past couple of days were hectic. I had to go back to Sierra Cove and see about getting out of my lease and our apartment. I thought I could afford to keep up my half of the rent while staying here, but I can’t.”
I think it’s the most words I’ve ever heard Asher say at one time. “Oh no, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it sucks but I was going to have to eventually move out anyways. I can’t afford the rent on my own now.”
“I know.” I say softly. “So running now, huh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yeah, seems to be helping clear my head. Nothing else does.”
I know the feeling. “Well, do you want some company?”
“With you? Always.”
* * *
“The police report and autopsy results came in.” My father says over dinner one night.
I pause mid bite, suddenly feeling as if I can’t swallow.
My mother stops eating too, her fork clattering onto her plate. “When?”
“Earlier today I received a call at work. I stopped on my way home and picked them up but haven’t opened anything.”
Mom inhales sharply. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Me either.” I whisper.
“I’ll look it over and if either of you want to know anything, just ask.”
The room grows quiet, all of us have stopped eating, and a heaviness settles around the room. I’ve lost my appetite.
“I’m not hungry anymore.” I push my plate away.
