by Erica Kiefer
They found her body the next morning—when first light and clear skies allowed for another thorough search. Even though we assumed yesterday that Maddie was gone, hearing the news that they had retrieved her body allowed another wave of heartbreaking reality to sweep through my family and me.
The way the TV reporters gobbled up and spread the news made me feel like a criminal, mentioning my near drowning while informing of Maddie’s death. I’m sure every viewer wondered why I survived when she didn’t—probably assuming I had only looked out for myself. It was just as well. I deserved the scrutiny.
In the cabin, I hid in my room, unable to face Aunt Heidi or Uncle Bill more than necessary. I was supposed to be packing up my belongings, preparing for our drive home that afternoon, but I couldn’t do it. I sat on the edge of my bed, folding and unfolding one of Maddie’s shirts that had found its way into my pile of laundry.
A tentative knock sounded at my door. Aunt Heidi met my gaze, the dark bags under her swollen eyes making me cringe. She had stayed up all night, waiting for the official news about her daughter.
“I want you to know,” she started, faltering as her voice cracked, “that I don’t blame you.” She wiped her eyes, seating herself on the twin bed adjacent to mine—the same one Maddie often slept in for our “summer slumber parties.”
I broke eye contact, still fumbling with the shirt between my fingers. I recalled her words at the hospital and the implication behind them. I didn’t hold anything against her for pinning me as the source of her grief, even if she was trying to apologize for it now.
“You were like a sister to her,” Aunt Heidi continued, her words low in her raspy throat. Her sniffling filled the room.
At the word “sister,” my own eyes dampened again, and a physical pain compressed my heart.
What had I done?
“I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing the burning lump in my throat. “I wish I had stopped her from crossing the river. I had no idea it was running that fast until I reached her.”
“Come here, Allie.” Aunt Heidi seated herself on my mattress, wrapping her arms around me and pulling my head onto her shoulder. We cried together for a minute more, the room suffocating us with the nonstop flow of heavy despair.
I needed to get out of there.
While the adults and my sisters continued to pack, I slipped out my bedroom window, landing in the large parking lot. Despite our tragedy, Hidden Pines continued to move and fill the air with carefree laughter, oblivious to the screeching halt in my life—almost oblivious, that is. Stepping away from our cabin and heading towards a trail, I kept my eyes averted, sweeping the ground as I moved. Still, my peripheral caught the whispered voices, the pointed fingers… It was no secret that the Collins family would be the highlight of gossip this summer.
I walked for a couple of hours on a mostly secluded hike, distancing myself from my usual running trails, and in the complete opposite direction of the river. Never again did I want to see or hear the tormenting, mocking sounds from the river I once loved so much.
By the time I returned from my walk, my family was loading the last few bags into the trunk of our suburban. Aunt Heidi and Uncle Bill were already seated in their sedan. The motor was already running, as though they were anxious to escape Hidden Pines. I noticed my bag in Dad’s hand. Someone had finished packing for me.
“We’re just about to lock up,” Dad said, gingerly touching my shoulder with his hand. “Go ahead and grab a seat.” He opened the back door for me.
I looked back at forth between the two cars, eying the empty seat in Aunt Heidi and Uncle Bill’s back row. A hit of reality stole my breath again. I shook my head slowly, back and forth.
Maddie should be here, like she always was—babbling away and insisting that I ride in her car. I marched towards the cabin, shoving the door open.
“Allie, where are you going?” Dad called after me, his footsteps following me into my bedroom. I looked around the empty room, less tidy than I normally left it. Candy wrappers lay crinkled on my nightstand, and the drawers remained half-opened, as though someone had rummaged through them.
“We can’t go.” My words were barely a whisper.
“What did you say?” Dad asked, leaning towards me. “Your sisters finished packing for you. I think they grabbed everything.”
“No,” I said, my eyes glazing over as I stared at Maddie’s unkempt bed. “We can’t leave without her.” I sat down, gathering her pillow in my arms. Numbness crept up my body, from my toes to the top of my head, but not enough to deaden the pressure rising in my chest and crawling up my throat.
“Allison…” Dad held his hand up as though trying to keep whatever emotion was overcoming me at bay. “We need to go, honey.” He put a hand on my arm, trying to pull me to my feet.
Something snapped inside of me—whatever was left of me to break.
“No!” I screamed. “We can’t leave her!”
Dad tried to console me, wrapping his arms around me. I fought his restraint, screaming Maddie’s name. I don’t recall the details of the next few minutes, though I remember Dad scooping me up in his arms while I continued to sob and fight. Uncle Bill met Dad at the front door, his face alarmed.
“She’s lost it,” Dad tried to say under his breath, but I heard him perfectly clear.
Lost it. Lost her.
Lost Maddie—I let her die.
Dad and Uncle Bill continued to restrain me, all while forcefully buckling me into my seat.
“What should we do?”
“Is she going to be ok?” My sisters’ teary voices echoed beside me from their seated positions in the suburban. Once strapped inside, my thrashing subsided, my face buried against the hard window. I exhaled shuddering breaths, embarrassed and exhausted.
As we drove through the twists and turns of the canyon and descended the mountain, I kept my eyes to the road, refusing to look back.
PRESENT
