a butterfly knife

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Alessa

    The words leave my mouth before I have a moment to think.

    "Anxious, are we?" Supplies Cameron in a lighter tone. The whole mood of our trip to the beach has been relatively free flowing, but Cameron's story about his family coming to LBI seems so new, almost like he is trying to remember the events after forgetting they ever occurred.

    "A little." I reply honestly.

    Cameron gives me a slight affirmative smile.

    "Oh and, I know you shared a lot with me about your family coming to LBI, and thank you, really, thank you for that. But I'm still trying to understand my trauma so I don't think I can tell you everything. I just... I don't know." I sigh frustratedly.

    "Alessa. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, I get it. I won't take it personally." Cameron affirms, laying his hands on my thigh.

    "Thank you. And, yeah, don't take it personal." I confirm.

    Cameron nods as if telling me to carry on.

    "So. During last year's Mid Atlantic Championships, something happened." The memories and dreams take this crack in a month long silence as an opportunity to flood into my eyes and ears. Every sense comes alive within me, replaced by the senses I felt in that fateful moment.

    "Breathe Alessa, it's okay, just tell me what you can." Supplies Cameron.

    I give him a side smile and continue, "At the beginning of our final race, we were all lined up an- and ready to go when the blaring of a coaches whistle and the tipping of our boat shocked me out of my pre race daze." Breathe.

    "I had no idea what was going on, but before I knew it, I was submerged in the lake and grabbing at my foot board to unvelcrow my feet. The whole boat had flipped, we were so confused." I spit, my body going rigid and my hands grabbing each other for security.

    Cameron's hand moves up my leg and to the jumble of frustration balling into chaos in my hands. He grabs my right and left hand and sandwiches them between his, adding strength to my diminishing fight.

    Concentrate. Concentrate on the now. "After we were all hauled out of the water, and my coxswain was brought out on a gurney, what really happened began to set in. Her name is Rhea. Ugh, Rhea." I shudder in a breath, to which Cameron's grip on my hands tightens.

    "Rhea was my coxswain for Mid Atlantic's, and while Mary has been my coxswain since freshman year, Rhea stepped in because Mary couldn't make it. Fuck." I relent, a whole new sense of guilt and frustration creeping into my pores.

    "You're okay." Encourages Cameron.

    "Anyways. It wasn't until after everything happened that I learned Rhea had a seizure. It must've been because of all the stress from school and practice and shit, but she had a seizure at the starting line. When the boat tipped, the EMTs said that she hit her head on the lip of the boat, and ragdolled over the side of the boat, taking the rest of the boat with her. They say... they said her cause of death was- was drowning." Let it go.

    "There was nothing we could do!" I whale, ripping my hands out of Cameron's and into the air.

    "I didn't know what to do!" I continue fervently.

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