physical therapy// discontinued

0.6

"sometimes quiet is violent." -twenty øne piløts, car radiø

***

a rush of cold air greeted us as i pushed the heavy metal doors to the roof open, clearing my lungs and sending a trail of goosebumps trickling up my arm.

"why are we up here?" luke asked squinting against the fading sunlight, "whats wrong with having the same conversation in the elevator or inside where i won't freeze to death."

"because i can actually think up here." i skittered to the edge and smiled at the new york skyline, dusted in gold from the russet sunset and still echoing with the screech of tires and shouts of street vendors. the orchestration of sound that had formed the backtrack to my life for the past 17 years roared and beat in a steady harmony with the rocking movement of people.

"it's loader out here than inside."

"that's not what helps me think," i said softly, "no one here can watch me. they're not studying my emotions and facial expressions, they can't see me cry or hear me scream or watch me break to ask me'are you okay?'. up here, i'm the one hovering over them, watching them in their regular pattern of movement. i get to be the one watching their emotions and daily struggles and victories. being closer to the sky means i can finally stop being the subject and finally become the observer."

a slight pause punctuated with a piercing siren and i turned to see luke shaking his head at me, a small smile curving the edges of his lips, "bea kim, you are something else."

i would be lying if i said that i didn't feel a warm hand wrap around my heart.

***

"you can start whenever you want," luke said slinging an arm around my shoulders, his cold fingers sliding across the exposed skin.

we were perched on the edge of the roof, feet dangling over the heads of rushing doctors and patients, sweeping through the revolving glass doors. the entire city, glittering with noise and flashing lights was laid out in a perfect display in front of us, but luke's eyes never left me, his warm presence acting as a sort of solace of comfort, radiating with trust and understanding. i took in a shuddering breath.

thinking about it would be painful, but luke, i decided, was worth every scream and strain of searing hot emotion that pressed against my heart.

"it was last august," i started slowly.

and the rush of memories came flooding in.

"turn it up," lily urged as the soft streams of problem by ariana grande echoed from the stereo system of my car.

i rolled my eyes, "i think i'm going to have to disown you as my sister for listening to this crap."

lily pouted, her dark eyes shining as she pleaded, "come on, ariana has a great voice. you have to appreciate art."

i felt a stab of irritation pinch my sides. it was almost eleven pm and i was already frustrated at my mom from forcing me to pick up my sister from her stupid sleepover that was cut short when little josie decided to throw up all over their sleeping bags. that mixed with the roaring pound of rain that drummed against my furiously sweeping window wipers, and my sister's unceasing whining, made me want to scream with contained exasperation.

(i didn't know then that the last emotion i would associate with my sister would be anger)

lily reached across the dashboard and sneakily turned the volume up, ariana's high pitch getting louder and louder.

i glared at my sister and swatted her hand away, quickly tuning the radio to the alternative station. "look, i'm the one who had to drive half an hour to get your sorry ass, so just let me listen to my damn music."

lily glared back, "and i just got thrown up on, i deserve my ariana grande." she tuned it back to her station and i felt the suppressed anger flood from the cracked dam.

i turned to her and slapped her hand away from the dashboard,"lily! for gods sake, can't you just stop messing things up for me for one second? be grateful that i even came to get you. i could be actually enjoying my friday night, but you just have to screw up everything for me don't you?"

lily opened her mouth to retort, but instead of a sarcastic comeback, i was awarded with a piercing scream, "bea!"

my eyes snapped to the road and my vision was flooded with the piercing headlights of car hurtling at an ungodly pace. panic flooded my system.

"fuck."

a screech of tires against the wet pavement. the sweeping sensation as our car was vaulted through the air. a crunch of metal against metal, mechanics grinding against each other, pieces of shattered glass decorating my hair with sparkling crystals of destruction. sirens piercing the air. blood seeping, staining, rushing.

and two broken bodies, crumpling to the pavement. one gasping for breath, the other already ripped from the world.

the last sound I remember hearing was crumpled static blaring from the broken radio system.

***

the silence was comforting.

luke didn't say anything after i finished. he instead opted to gently pull my body closer to his and trace circles on my back. the gentleness and compassion in his touch tightened the knot in my throat and produced salty tears to drip down the sides of my face. my muscles tensed and i pushed him away, wiping at my cheeks haphazardly.

"stop."

luke looked shocked, a hurt expression crumpling his features. he grabbed my arms and tilted my chin gently towards him, "bea...?"

i shook my head and pushed myself away, my vision growing blurry with emotion and tears, "you can't luke. you can't just show sympathy like that. you heard the story."

"yeah and i get it-"

"no," i swatted his outreached hands away and turned my body away, shaking with suppressed sobs. "luke. i killed her. i'm a fucking murderer. i should've been paying attention to the road. i shouldn't have blown up like that. i shouldn't have-"

despite my desperate attempts to avoid luke's affection, he wrapped his arms tightly around me, his hands pressed against the small of my back, and his chin rested on my head. the steady drum of his heartbeat acted as a metronome, lulling me back into reality and soothing the hiccupped sobs strangled in my throat.

"that's not murder bea. you didn't kill her. not accidentally or on purpose. it's not your fault."

i opened my mouth to snap back; how would you know?, but i was flashed back to that night at the party, nestled between the shadows of the house and eavesdropping on a delicate conversation between two best friends.

a tear stained face and drunken words slurring from cracked lips;

"how does one forget the fact that i killed someone?"