AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ididcare.
I let out another screech, brought my hand to my hair, and tugged as tightly as I could manage without pulling the follicles off my scalp.
I did care.
I cared so deeply that it would be the death of me.
Because, if it was one thing I knew for certain, I could no longer handle any of this. Over a year had gone by since my dad had shot himself. Almost a year had gone by that I’d been in this shitty fucking loveless relationship. I had no friends. My mom had gotten so cold I could feel it.
And I had not one thing tying me anywhere.
No love.
No one needed me.
And I was so ready.
So ready to never have to wake up and deal with the pain again.
So ready to just simply not exist.
So ready to be dead.
Chapter Fifty
Fifteen Years Later
Your dad would do it again.
I shook the memory away, insides tightening.
That moment in the woods… that was when I’d finally snapped.
That moment in the woods… that was my point of no return.
That moment in the woods…
Your dad would do it again.
* * *
“Oh, there’s a nice desk,” Jamie said, a protective arm wrapped around my waist as we pushed the cart down the aisle. Well, him pretending to help me steer, and me actually pushing.
It was the morning after that awful dream where I’d choked on my dad’s blood. And I couldn’t get it out of my mind.
We stepped through the desk section of IKEA where we’d been admiring some of the espresso colored furniture. Even though no one else saw Jamie, I loved having the company. I made sure to only respond to Jamie when no other customer was in earshot, and he seemed to understand my concern. Trying his hardest to speak only when we were completely alone and nudging me if anyone came our way as we were speaking.
In these short couple of weeks, I’d gotten used to Jamie’s spirit being with me, as if he was actually still alive and in a physical body. So used to it that I had to catch myself while we ventured out in public. Not that we’d done it often. This was the second time next to last week at The Roxy.
Jamie had been pointing at the desks he thought I might like, but I hadn’t found one that really seemed to work. They were either too short or not long enough or simply didn’t feel like me for whateverrandoreason.
As we walked, he glanced at me, eyes clouded with concern. He knew the thoughts which tormented my mind. Had probably experienced my most recent mind flashback, watching us use the Ouija board for the first (and last) time. Yet he didn’t broach the subject of my dad. Or what had happened between us. The thing that set everything in motion for me and my eventual journey to the river.
We both knew he understood how I was feeling. We both knew where my mind was. We both knew that he now knew the truth–where my mind had been and why I had been trying to contact Dad that night in the woods.
And I sensed that neither one of us knew how to talk about any of it.
“Wow, I like this one, actually,” I said, trying to shake the disturbing images from my head. From the dream the night before with my dad. And from the memories of using that damn Ouija board back at Stony Point.
