Until Dawn: Tyrants {Josh Washington}

18//ghosts that we knew

A/N and with this, it's the end of this story. I really hope you enjoyed it! This is kind of the epilogue. Thank you so much for reading.

It's been two years since it happened. I see it all whenever I close my eyes to sleep at night. I watch the events unfold all over again. I guess I'm fortunate that I lived, but I feel so horrible. Why did they have to die? Today's the anniversary of the incident. The snow falls outside, reminding me of the day. It's very quiet, almost eerie in the lodge.
I don't know why we're here, living together in the same place all this tragedy happened.
"Hey, I made you some tea," Josh sits down next to me, handing the hot cup over.
"Why did we move here?" I ask suddenly, always thinking about that question but never asking it out loud.
Josh pauses, thinking carefully.
"Memories," He answers simply.
I can only think of bad ones anymore, remembering everything leading up to the deaths.
"I mean, down in the basement was the first time you said you loved me," He almost smiles, blankly making his point. "And all the years before that, when things were better,"
I look down at the ring on my finger. He gave it to me two months ago, and that day I made a promise to never stop loving him, and I don't plan to. He's the thing keeping me sane and happy. We're getting married in 8 months, and it's still hard to comprehend.
The snow up here never stops, even when it's summer and spring. Usually, snow brings on more depression, but I've gotten used to it.
Our friends don't visit as much as they would if we lived somewhere else. Some hauntings refuse to disappear.
I guess this could be a happy ending. We're all painfully moving past this. Josh and I are both keeping each other in check, making sure we're taking our medication and eating and drinking enough.
We made a box filled with everything holding painful emotions, and put it deep into the basement. Banishing it into being forgotten. Hannah's diary was the worst of it, reading about Mike and a party she was excited about. Each word sent another fit of sobs in my chest.
Now, things aren't as bad, but after two years, I'm still not healed. But Josh and I find solace together somehow. We explore in the woods like we always used to, we make short films about random things, Josh behind the camera.
"Smile, ladybug. I need you to look ecstatic in this scene," Josh would grin widely at me.
Nothing could help me more than he has. Loving him is the only emotion I have that has done me good.
The snow is falling peacefully, but a part of my mind is trapped in the idea that the snowflakes are only coming down with violence. I'm trying to fix it. There are so many things screwed up in this place, and I don't know how to live with it.
Josh's hand moves to wrap around mine.
"Today will be the worst of the year. Let's just go back to bed," Josh suggests. I nod, standing with him.
We leave my half full mug of tea on the table, and the snow outside, and go back to our room.
And whatever this mountain's curse may be, it isn't enough to keep us apart.
The floor creaks under us, like it's talking, saying "it might be okay in the end, you know". The eeriness of the lodge has died down to a low dull of emptiness.
We step inside our room, the bed not made and the curtains closed. Josh steps over and opens them before climbing into the warm sheets.
"You coming, darlin'?" He asks, chuckling. I give him a nod, and curl up next to his warm form. He only seems happy on the outside, but I know that this is only beginning to stop eating at his insides.
I think back to when my mom was so worried, she almost sent me to a rehab center to force me into forgetting the event, all because I was seeing things and hearing their voices in my head. I remember drinking my problems away, telling everyone who tried to help to go away, to leave me alone.
But I don't want to be alone anymore, it's getting tiring.
It's been two years, and something in my head won't allow me to fully get better yet. Every picture with my friends in it reminds me of that night, and that some of them died.
I can't seem to fathom the fact that I'll never see or talk to them again. We'll never be a full group of friends anymore.
"Whatcha' thinking about?" Josh asks.
I don't know what he expects the answer to be besides, "how our friends died".
I turn my body so I'm facing him, and our foreheads brush against each other. My eyes are closed, and Josh's hand is clasping mine so tightly.
"We should see them later today. I think they would be happy to get together to try and forget,"
"Do you think getting everyone together would help forget?" He asks honestly, and I don't know the answer.
"It's just that, I want to see how they are," I tell him simply. I feel so selfish, like we're taking our friends for granted. I mean, we are capable of seeing them, so why aren't we? That's all we want to have back right?
"Okay, we can make plans to see them tonight," He smiles weakly. This is going to be hard for everyone.
"Okay," I whisper, pulling him closer to me because he's my air and it's getting hard to breathe.
I attempt to drown out my feelings of worry, and just focus on the collar or Josh's shirt. I fiddle with it, staring at the little hole it has.
He painted me and filled in the lines, and I don't think I'm in danger of washing away like sidewalk chalk anymore.
Light cascades into the room, creeping up to us, creating patterns in the blanket.
"We should get a cat," I say.
"Oh. Okay, sure," He grins at my sudden suggestion.
I dig my head into his chest, and he kisses it lightly.
Things are more okay than I thought, because behind my brain there has been a cloud of doubt that was making it hard to live, and now, I know that I want to carry on.
Maybe one day we can move out of this lodge and go somewhere warm, somewhere smaller. We can travel and see the world. Maybe Josh can become a film director like he has always wanted to. Maybe I can finally sell some of my art. Maybe, no matter how many possible endings this story can have, we chose the right one. Maybe this lodge can be torn down, because frankly I don't know why Josh's parents had it rebuilt after some of it burned down. They didn't want it to be left there, but I wish it could just be destroyed completely. The basement and some of the rooms were the only places that survived, and I wish they had perished too. Those helicopters came in with water to put out the fire for potential survivors, although they only found the remains of wendigos. I wish they had just left it to burn, because then Josh wouldn't feel like he had to live here like it was some kind of punishment.
Pretty soon, I fall asleep, losing my train of thought. For the first time in two years I don't dream about the past, but I dream about the future. Different cities and hills and climbing lights strung up on buildings and people who haven't seen what we've seen smiling and making us forget. Living in a nice little house in the woods, by a lake. We can explore and watch the stars and I can paint them, he can film them. There are so many options.
Everything is okay.