Truce

Eighteen // Surviving

                 

A/N: The song above is the song in the chapter. It's heartbreakingly beautiful. It is the feel of this chapter. I recommend listening to it while reading. This is going to be heavy but it's short(ish). You guys can do it. I believe in you.
Also, apologies for my slow updates in the future. Holiday homework and all the work I missed while I was away plus exams soon and what not so slow may be an understatement. Sorry but still, enjoy what you've got!

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Eighteen // Surviving

Kaia

This was a bad idea. I was sneaking out the back door in my jeans and baggy jumper with my hair tied up in a messy bun. It was 1am, and I was about to meet Jacob at the worst possible place to be in the middle of the night. It didn't scare me so much anymore. I had done it enough times when I was younger than I was now, but I still would have been more comfortable in my bed.

I was wide awake now though, with my phone in my pocket and my eyes on the footpath. It was dark, but the streetlamps had flickered to life and the full moon was bright and shining.

I made it off my street where the streetlamps became scarce, and I had to rely on the light from the moon and my own memory of the path to get there. Prillis Lane was close to my house, but it was a long, narrow road that took me five minutes to walk from one end of to where I was going.

There were two thoughts circulating my head.

One: was I really about to do this? Jacob was one of my friends and as one of my friends, he deserved to know. But was I prepared for him to see me like that? I knew from the moment the clock flicked over to 12am that I would be a mess, whether I went at 1am or 7am like I had planned.

So I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone, go now and tell Jacob while I'm at it.

I just hoped it wouldn't change anything between us.

I made it to the corner of Prillis Lane where the streetlamps were flickering. There weren't even the usual noises of the nocturnal wildlife that comforted me in the early hours of the morning. It was still, silent, breathless.

Then I saw it, the corner of the block which sent a shiver down my spine. Over the low metal fence I saw all the different shapes of stone, concrete, sticking out from the earth like unnatural trees. The big crucifix stone came into sight and then so did the big, black metal gates, and a car in front of them.

Jacob.

I upped my pace to close the distance and when I did, the car turned off and out stepped Jacob. His worry filled eyes drifted between the gates and me as I stopped beside him, looking into the yard.

"What are we doing here?" They were his first words, quiet and barely audible. I think it was something to do with where we were that made you feel like you needed to speak in whispers. The same feeling you get when you walk into a library, but that was to not disturb the librarians. Not to not disturb the dead.

I slid my hand into his as my answer and began to lead him through the yard, sticking to the damp stone paths where the grass and roots were sprawled out onto.

As I had done many times before, I went to the back fence, took a left and then another, and then I was there.

My breath caught in my throat and my cheeks were already wet. I squeezed Jacob's hand to keep strong and looked at the gravestone, the elegant writing so familiar I could recite it without a second thought.

In loving memory of Andrew and Louise Sawyer. Loving parents, eventful lives, tragic end.

"Is this...?" His voice was just a whisper, a reflex when speaking in the land of the dead. My heart clenched as I nodded.