Reformation

4: Grief

I couldn't breath. My throat was constricted and my lungs felt sore. A small scream escaped my mouth and I collapsed to the ground in sobs. I was shaking uncontrollably. This wasn't happening. This really wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't real. It was a nightmare. Nothing was happening. I was wrapped in Ryan's arms in our plane with Jane sleeping just across the aisle.

I pinched myself. I screamed. I tried to rip my hair out. I stood on my shaky legs and ran over to the car. I pushed the seats down and looked for her. She was hiding. She was playing a joke. It was all a joke. She would pop out from behind the car laughing at me in her light voice. I would scold her, and hug her. I screamed again as she was nowhere to be found. I collapsed onto the leather seats and felt an ache in my heart.

I felt hands pry me off of the seats and pull me back outside where they leaned me up against a truck. Liam was on the ground next to me, sobbing louder every time I let out a scream. People were gathering to stare at us, nobody knew what was going on. Then, I saw Ryan run through the front doors. He saw me then Liam. He stumbled and fell to the ground, joining our sobs.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Liam kept repeating, shaking on the ground.

Ryan was on top of him before I could take a breath. His hands were around Liam's throat, who was coughing.

"You left her! You left her! Rot in hell you dirty piece of scum! You left her! You left her! Where is she?!" He sobbed. He released Liam's throat and fell to the ground. Liam coughed and regained his breath, then kept crying.

I scooted over to Ryan and buried my face in his chest. Our bubble. Nothing could touch us. Nothing was real. But his shirt was soon soaked through from my tears. Our bubble was popped.

Then I realized something, the weight on my chest. It was Jane. If only I went instead of her. I should've gone on the run. It was her first time. She should've never gone. Michael should've never let her go. I could've survived. She was the only one who didn't come back. Take me instead! Not Jane. She has too much. She can't leave. Just bring her back! I will do anything! I pleaded to God. She didn't deserve to die.

How could I survive without her? Her gentle heart and kind soul, her radiant smile that could light up a funeral, thinking of her made me ache. I wasn't going to have a child without her.

She was dead. Her body was cold wherever it was and she was dead. I can't do anything about it. She is dead.

The tears seemed to have a steady flow and didn't look like they were stopping. I didn't care. Jane was my best friend. She can't just come into my life and leave. I never got to say goodbye.

I screamed into his shirt and stood up. The drawbridge was slowly closing and I jumped over before it got too high. Only about a dozen creepers roamed outside. I whipped out the machete out of my belt and killed each one of them one by one. One of them was a girl, with short brown hair just as Jane's. I sliced her head off without looking into her eyes and collapsed onto the ground in sobs again. I felt more hands pull me back inside the threshold and I screamed.

I laid on the hot pavement and cried. I cried and cried and cried until I fell asleep.

***

I fell asleep on the pavement, but woke up on a bed. I heard sobs in Clara's plane cabin.

Ryan sat in a chair across from the bed, his eyes staring at the wall, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He took a swig of the brown liquid and kept staring at the wall.

I thought of scolding him, I thought of telling him that he was going to get addicted again, but I didn't. I sat up and outstretched my arm, asking for the bottle. It wasn't a dream. It was real. Jane was dead and there was nothing I could do about it.