CHAPTER ELEVEN
“No, no, no, no.” I frantically search for my phone in the ruffled comforter.
“Just don’t answer it. Come back up here with me.” As inviting as Matthew sounds, a part of me wakes up and knows I’m in the wrong here with him.
“No, he said he would call back. I have to apologize and figure out what happened to him today.” The ringtone stops and my heart drops. I throw all the pillows off my bed and finally find it. “Mattie, can you come back later? I really need to talk to Scotty now. There’s something wrong and I have to tell him about you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re with me right now. He can wait.”
Anger heats my face. “Matthew, I’m not kidding. Can you please leave?” I point to the door. The phone in my hand starts to ring again and my stomach sinks. I can’t miss his call again. What will he think? “Fine. Just don’t say anything.”
“Yeah, sure.” He waves a dismissive hand, but I choose to answer the call before it times out instead of pursuing his unconvincing compliance.
“Hey, Scotty. Sorry I didn’t answer, I couldn’t find my phone.”
“It’s okay, Katie. I want to apologize for earlier. I’m not sure why I snapped at you the way I did, I guess I was really stressed from today. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I smile to myself. I knew he wasn’t really mad at me. “It’s ok. I’m sorry too. I should have asked you about your day instead of getting caught up in mine.”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t know, it’s like someone turned up the angry dial in my head. I had no reason to be that angry. I don’t know where it came from.”
“I said its okay. I don’t need an explanation. Do you want to tell me about your day now?”
Matthew snorts a laugh rather loudly. I glare at him and he smiles innocently back batting his lashes.
“Sure, but what was that noise?”
“Oh, uhh... I didn’t hear anything. What kind of noise?” Matthew’s smile widens almost like a lion looking at the mouse it has been toying with.
“It sounded like a laugh. I don’t know. Anyway, Mom and I got into a fight this morning.”
“Oh no. What about?” I stand up and move to Marie’s side of the room hoping Matthew takes a hint.
Matthew laughs a little more plainly.
“Okay, I know I heard something that time. Is Marie in the room? Or her boyfriend? It sounded like a guy laughing.”
My heart rate quickens and cold sweat beads form on the back of my neck. “No, I’m here alone.”
“Yeah, right.” Matthew doesn’t even try to speak quietly.
“Who is that, Katie?” Anger starts to drip into Scotty’s words.
“No one, Scott. Tell me about your mom.” I’m desperate to diffuse the situation unfolding around me. I think about hanging up and calling it an accident after I kick Matthew out but I’m afraid that would seem more suspicious.
Before I can uncover a solution from my cloudy thoughts, Matthew speaks again, “Look, Scott. She doesn’t care about you or your mom. She’s with me tonight so beat it, okay?” Matthew has moved from my bed to stand right behind me. I twirl around and stare at him wide eyed.
Scotty’s fury snaps me out of it. “Katie, who is with you?”
“Scotty, he’s just a friend -”
“A friend you had to lie about?”
“Scotty, no, I just haven’t found the right time to tell you about him. I didn’t want to make you upset -”
Scotty continues to interrupt me before I can calm him down, “Upset? Why would I be upset about some guy sleeping with my girlfriend behind my back?”
“He’s not sleeping with me!”
“Yet.” Matthew walks back to the bed looking at ease.
“Shut up, Matthew! You need to leave.” I force so much anger into my words that I don’t even recognize my voice.
“Fine. I can take a hint. I’ll see you soon.” He winks then strolls out the door as if nothing is wrong and I wish my eyes could burn holes in the back of him.
“Scotty?” My heart is thundering in my chest.
“I’m done, Kathryn.” The anger is gone but the empty dead tone is worse.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m done. Done with this relationship and done with you. I can’t be with you if you’re going to lie to me and cheat on me and whatever else it is you’re doing.”
“Scotty, no. Please?”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Scotty…”
The unmistakable sound of his phone click fills my ear. “Scotty?” I am too shocked to put the phone down until the screen lights up signaling the end of the call. I sit incredibly still, unbelieving of what just happened.
An hour passes and still nothing. No tears came to streak my face. I feel numb.
He can’t leave. We always talk our way through our problems. Even as I think it, I know this time is different. I think of the finality in his voice.
Mechanically, I slide on my bedroom slippers and Scotty’s jacket over my clothes. Once out of the room. I walk with no destination in mind. A few guys run down the hall yelling and laughing about something. Typical Friday night behavior.
But this isn't a typical Friday night for me. Normally I'd be on the phone or video chatting with Scotty but not tonight.
Or any night ever again.
I make my way down the stairwell and open the outside door on the ground floor. The cold surrounds me and the wind bites into my underdressed body, but I don't care. I can't really feel it.
Still walking without thinking I find myself making my way toward town. I cross the main road and think, just for a moment, of staying in the middle for the road. One of the large eighteen wheelers would deafen my ears with its horn and squealing breaks, but it wouldn’t be able to stop fast enough. I shake the thought and keep walking. There is a bridge that connects Keyser to Cumberland; a bridge that overlooks the Potomac River; a bridge that I now find myself standing on.
I don't know why I’m here. I keep hearing Scotty’s voice, “I can't do this anymore,” and then the phone click. The first tear quietly slides down my cheek as the realization hits me.
I have never felt this low. Looking back at the events leading me to this moment, I don’t know if my feelings are irrational because of stress or if this is how it feels to want to end it all. Everything has pushed me to the breaking point.
How did things fall apart so fast?
I knew my grades in Calculus weren’t good after the first test, but the end of the semester is approaching faster than I thought and I am running out of time to fix it. My GPA will be too low for some of my scholarships. College is slipping from me.
The pet shop, my safe haven for stress relief, will soon be gone as well.
And Scotty… he’s already gone. I ruined our relationship. What had I seen in Matthew? How could I have let him lure me into this? I was so happy with Scotty. I wasn’t even looking to find someone like Matthew. He just came in and swept me up into his chaotic world. Something in him pulled me in, almost as if I didn’t have a choice.
But I did have a choice, didn’t I? And I chose wrong. So now I’m paying for it. Cars fly by behind me on the highway, uncaring of my late-night unraveling. If I was gone, there would at least be less stress on everyone else. Scotty wouldn’t have a cheating girlfriend, my parents wouldn’t have to try and find college money, Cassie could find a friend who could actually help her, my roommate wouldn’t have to take care of me like a child.
The more I dwell on it, the more the ache in my chest intensifies until it is unbearable. My tears begin to flow chaotically down my face. I look down over the bridge into the empty black void. I keep fighting for control over my own life, and I keep failing.
There’s one more thing I can try. I roll up my sleeve and retrieve the pocketknife from my jacket pocket. The long cut up my arm looks irritated and angry. I push the blade into my skin and add a second o
ne. The blood flows as I make the cut deeper. Crimson droplets dot the cold cement ground beneath my feet.
I wait several minutes, feeling dizzy from the blood loss, but the relief doesn’t come. The pressure doesn’t release. Zipping my jacket up to my throat, I take a step forward. I shake my head trying to get rid of all the thoughts swirling inside.
But I fail.
They swarm, trying to consume me. All the failures, mistakes, and losses threaten to suffocate me. I can see only one way out. One way to control what happens to me here and now. I step closer to the short ledge and swing one leg over.
Then the other.
Sitting there I take one last deep breath and whisper, “I love you, Scotty”
Then my hands shove me forward into the darkness.
PART TWO: SCOTT
CHAPTER TWELVE
It's been almost a week since they pulled her from the Potomac River. It still feels like I'm dreaming. Time is passing, but I'm frozen.
What have I done?
Her funeral is in a few hours. Mom laid out my suit and keeps giving me comforting pats on the back, unsure of what to say, but she doesn't know that this is my fault. No one does.
How can I go and face her parents? Oh, yeah, I'm the reason your daughter killed herself, my condolences.
The thought of never hearing her voice or never feeling her kiss again, threatens to break me down. But I refuse to cry. I did this, and there's no way to take it back.
Thinking back on the night we broke up I can’t find an explanation for why I became so angry. I know I was upset because I had a stressful day and was anxious to get it off my chest but snapping at Katie the way I did was out of line. Maybe it all built up and turned into a blind rage. I still don’t understand who I became that night. But no matter the why’s or how’s I know it’s irreversible.
But my thoughts keep returning to the male voice on the other end of the phone. Who was with Katie? Was he really just a friend, or did my instincts know something I was afraid to say? Is that why I became so angry? Or was I being irrational and not giving her a chance to explain? It hurts more not knowing.
Dressed in the suit, complete with a black tie and black shiny dress shoes, I slide into the driver's seat of my truck and try to take deep breaths to calm my chaotic nerves.
What have I done?
She had her whole life to live. College was going great, her job made her happy, she had a wonderful family, and she had me to love her. Had. But then I took it all away. I ended her world.
Where is she now?
When I pull into a parking spot at our small church, I don’t get out of the truck. I don’t think I can do this. My hands are shaking, and tears threaten to come again. I feel so weak and I hate feeling weak. I open the door, get out, and slam it shut with more force than I need to.
When I walk into the church only a few eyes meet mine, but no one comes to offer me comfort. I suppose that’s how it should be. What am I? Just a boyfriend. Right now, her family needs the support.
Walking up the middle aisle, I look from one grief-stricken face to the next. There’s a mix of people; her family, teachers we had in high school, friends, church members, they’re all here for her. Did she not see how many people loved her?
Sitting in chairs next to the front pew are her parents. Daniel has a dry face, but he looks beaten down, while Jackie lets the tears flow. I walk toward them, unsure of what to say.
Daniel sees me first and nods. I nod back. When Jackie looks up to see me, she stands and throws her arms around my neck sobbing. Shocked by her actions, I gently but awkwardly pat her back as she mumbles things like, “I’m sorry,” and “Why did she leave us?”
I don’t know what to do or what to say. Of course, I knew Katie’s parents, but I never spent much time with them. This affection is unfamiliar, but I know it is only sorrow driven.
Once she calms down enough to let me go and sit back down, I walk up to the front of the room. Katie’s casket is closed. I can’t decide if that’s harder or easier for me. I had hoped to see her one last time, but I don’t know if I could have handled seeing her pale body lying in a casket. So peaceful, but so still. Every hue imaginable fill one bouquet or another as the flowers adorn her casket and overflow from the alter.
In an attempt to distract myself, I look at the poster boards that show her life in pictures. There are older photos from when she was a baby and all her school ones. A large image shows her standing proudly on a stage accepting her high school diploma. Some pictures are of her that someone got from Facebook and some are her with her family.
Surprisingly, there are even a few pictures of her and I. One photo is of us at the homecoming dance at her college, and another is of us decorating her dorm room. Looking back, it’s hard to understand what I was thinking a week ago.
What have I done?
The funeral begins and everyone takes a seat. I slide in a stiff padded chair next to Cassie. She stares off without acknowledging my presence. I know she looked up to Katie. I can’t imagine how she must feel. I reach out to touch her hand, but she snatches it away.
“I told Katie everyone always leaves, including her,” Cassie hisses.
“I think this is a little different than someone skipping town.” I try not to let sarcasm dip into my voice. She’s hurting, so she’s lashing out. Isn’t that what I did?
“I know. I just don’t know what to do. I was a jerk to her the last time we talked. I was waiting for her to call me back so I could apologize, but she never did. I guess I know why now, but it’s worse. She died with me upset with her. I can’t fix that, and it sucks.” Cassie angrily brushes the tears away and goes back to staring at nothing.
“I’m sure she knows you weren’t really mad at her. Katie was good about seeing the best in people.” My words don’t affect Cassie, at least not in a way that I can see.
The preacher steps up to the alter and begins the typical “she was too young, but it is in God’s plan” speech. Thankfully he keeps it short. Then comes story time. It seems everyone in the room has a story to share of a time Katie helped them do something or made them smile.
A pause hangs in the air and before I realize it, I’m rising to my feet. “I have a memory to share too. A memory of the day my whole world changed.”
I walk to the front of the room and try to ignore all the stares. A few people nod expectantly while others dab their faces with tissues. One face catches my attention for a moment. He sits in the back in black jeans and t-shirt with a dry face and a bemused look. He watches me as if waiting for something, but I ignore him too. I close my eyes and think of the first time I met Katie.
It was a cold day in late winter in the middle of our junior year. I had recently moved here and didn’t really know anyone yet. I was walking home from the library when I decided to pop into 7-11 for something to drink. I fixed up a cherry Slurpee and as I was paying, I noticed a girl sitting at one of the outside tables.
She was bundled up in a purple sweater and a rainbow hat with one of those fluffy balls on top. She wasn’t facing my direction, but I wasn’t watching her face, I was watching her hands. She stared off into space as her hands mindlessly dropped Skittles into her bottle of Dr. Pepper. She did it in such an absentminded way that I could tell she’d done it many times before. I walked outside to her table and pulled out the chair across from her.
“Is this seat taken?”
She looked stunned and her eyes shifted as if she was looking for a direction to run, but then she shook her head quickly. I sat down and started to drink my Slurpee. She didn’t relax even after I looked at ease.
“Why do you do that?” I gestured to her drink.
“I just like the flavor.” Her voice was quiet.
“It must be good. But I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”
“No one else is weird like me.” A hint of a smile played on her lips.
“I don’t know. I just might be weird enough to try it.” I smiled, an
d she relaxed a little. She slid the bottle of soda toward me. I grabbed it then hesitated. “You’re quick to share. What if you’re trying to poison me?”
“You’re as weird as me by wanting to try my drink. Why would I poison you? You’re someone I’d like to keep around as long as you like my drink.”
We clicked instantly after that and a week later I asked her on a date.
After all the stories are shared the group of people move outside to the graveyard right behind the church and we stand around a gaping hole in the ground. A hole that will soon swallow up the one thing in life that I had once said I loved more than life itself. How did things happen so fast?
Its early April, but the sun beats down on me. Its warm rays feel so out of place. Today is sorrow-filled. How can it be sunny? The rain should be hammering down, pouring like the tears of the people who surround me.
As Katie’s coffin is lowered into the dark earth, grief’s iron grip takes hold of me around my throat and I can’t breathe. I bolt away from the group. Halfway back to my truck, I have my head bowed, and bump shoulders with someone. I look up to apologize, but the words are lost in the silvery eyes looking at me. The guy smiles a broad grin and takes my hand. “You’ll see her again soon.” Then let’s go and walks away.
I unfreeze and run back to my truck and before I can stop them the tears come. I scuff my shoes in the gravels as heartache flows heavily down my face. I try closing my eyes but all I see is her. I hear her laughing and I clamp my hands over my ears trying to block it out, but it doesn’t do any good. My breath becomes ragged as the memory of the last time I heard her voice enters my mind.
“Scotty, I’ve had an absolutely terrible day.”
She had a terrible day? I wish I knew what had happened to upset her that much, but I was stupid and didn’t even give her the chance. I was consumed with my own stress over Kevin, the arrogant snob from my school that was supposed to be my partner for a sculpture project in one of my classes. There is no common ground between us and absolutely no cooperating. He pushed me as far as I could go until I snapped. I punched him in the middle of class. I was dismissed for the day, but I don’t regret it.
Sacrificial Lamb (The Other Angels Book 1) Page 7
