Don't Let Me Be Gone

Chapter 15

My father had continued his traveling at six o'clock this morning, while I'm up at eight getting ready for my couple of days with Braxton. I told my mother the night before what time I would be waking up and what time I would be leaving so I wouldn't have to wake her up. I'm excited, yet nervous for what holds today with Braxton.

"Have fun." A mysterious voice whispers. I don't reply. Not today, she will not ruin my day with Braxton, there's something about him that keeps her away most of the time; I'm thankful for that.

The quiet knock on the front door catches my attention. I open the door, revealing a tired looking Braxton. His hair is slightly messier than usual, but not in a bad way, it looks quite nice.

"Good morning." I smile softly at him while holding a bag of clothes that I can change into later.

"Morning," he mimics the same smile, but slightly sadder. "Let's get going." He takes my bag for me and heads to his car. I lock the front door on my way out and get in the passenger side of his car while he gets in the driver's seat. "My sister is in the car with my mom so she can keep her company, I don't want her falling asleep while driving. I'm going to follow my mom there, I'm bringing my car in case we want to go somewhere else and my mom is busy." He explains while he starts up his car and begins following his mom's car that also holds eleven year old Gracie.

"Okay, sounds good." I smile happily.

Minutes pass with no sound but the engine of the car and the radio. Thirty minutes to be exact. I look at Braxton a few times to see the his eyes are completely focused on the road and the car in front of him. I notice that he keeps his right hand on the gear. I look at his hand a couple times before putting my hand over it softly. He looks at me once and puts his eyes back on the road, I continue not to make any eye contact. I take his hand off and place on the middle of my thigh. I notice him give a weak smile while looking me, but then again, focusing back on the road. The feeling is still a bit triggering, and I haven't kissed him properly since the accident, but I want it to be over. I want the thoughts of Dalton's touch to escape my mind.

"Be careful. He might just rape you, or do us a favor and just kill you already." Again, I block the lady out of my head. Maybe if I ignore her long enough she'll go away for good.

"You haven't talked for half an hour," I speak for the first time. He takes a deep sigh and rubs my thigh before answering.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking." He smiles sadly.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask sympathetically.

"Not really." He speaks silently, I don't know why he's being so distant right now.

"Come on, it doesn't hurt to talk." I try to encourage him.

"I said no Zoella, what don't you understand? We talked about it once and I was half asleep, it was an accident. I don't want to talk about it. Can you stop doing that? You always do that." He snaps. He takes his hand off of my thigh and places it on the wheel so that both of his hands are on it.

"I'm sorry." I mumble and sink slightly into my seat just as I would at school. He's never snapped like that, never rudely at least. I could tell he meant it this time. I didn't mean to piss him off, I was just trying to get him to talk things out instead of leaving it bottled up inside. I cross my arms and stare out of the window while he turns up the music. You've got to be kidding me. The woman must be up to this. This is her fault. It's her fault he's acting like this, I should have never came, he could kill me here.

Ten more minutes pass, leaving us only forty-five minutes into the drive, which means we have just a little over an hour before we reach our destination. This is going to be the longest ride ever since he got upset with me. The music seems to lower its volume about five notches, I don't bother to look. I then feel a hand touch my thigh, I jump slightly but calm down once I know it's just Braxton. Not the woman, and not Dalton, it's just Braxton.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I just... I get a bit cold when it comes to the topic of him. I really was half asleep when I told you everything, but I do remember it clearly, and I... I don't regret a bit of it." He admits. I can't help but smile softly at his apology.

"It's okay, I don't mean to be pushy," I apologize as well.

"No no no, you're not pushy, I promise. I just needed an excuse to argue, and honestly it's not even worth it. I need you here with me, and I'm glad you're coming." He flashes a real smile this time, the one that's full of happiness.

"I'm glad I'm coming with you."

...

We reach Bloomington, Indiana at about noon, meeting Cheryl and Gracie at a hotel.

"So, I got two rooms because it was cheaper this way," Cheryl announces.

"I'll sleep with you mom! That way Braxton and Zoe can be all lovey dovey," she teases. I can't help but laugh, but also my face heats up because of my embarrassment.

"I suppose. I'm trusting you two." Cheryl speaks sternly. Braxton and I agree to be on our best behavior. We won't do anything anyway, I'm way too young for that, I'm way too young to have been raped as well.

After putting our small amount of things we packed into the hotel, we decided to get back in the car. Braxton is taking me somewhere and said that we will be on our way to the cemetery after he makes the quick stop.

After only a five minute drive, he pulls into the driveway of a two story house. He sits there quietly.

"Braxton?" I ask grabbing his arm slightly.

"This was my house." He answers already knowing what I was going to ask.

"Oh." I rub his arm softly and pull away. He sits there just staring at the house, I don't bother him. I'll let him think. I decide to look at the house as well, it's such a beautiful house... this is before I see something. I jump back in my seat quickly. No...

"Zoe? What's wrong?"

"I can see him. He's just hanging there. I can see him. I can see him." I back up in my seat quickly, as if that will help. I hate the way I am. I can literally see his dad hanging there. His flesh of skin is dripping down his body, and the rope is hanging only by a thread. His limp body is the only thing there, no muscle whatsoever. Braxton quickly drives away.

"Was he alive?" He asks.

"No... no he was dead, I saw his body... just-"

"Hanging there." He finishes.

"Yeah..."

"It's a terrible sight. Let's go." He drives away to the cemetery. I never want to see that again. I cannot see that house again, I bet it was hard for him to even see it himself, being there for the first time since they moved after all.

We reach the place full corpses, meeting Cheryl and Gracie at a specific spot. The spot where the one man they all loved the most, lay. They take turns visiting his grave, first Cheryl, then Braxton and Gracie... that is until Braxton calls me over to sit with them. The gravestone reads Mark Hill. Gracie has tears rolling down her face, remembering the smallest memories she ever had with her father. Then there's Braxton, no wet cheeks, but rather red eyes that hold the water that is yet to slide down his cheeks.

"Then there's Zoella. She's an amazing girl, like I mentioned before, she would have loved you." His voice cracks. I look at the grave again and tear up, watching Brax and Gracie cry is also making me cry. I can't do this, but I have to do it for Brax. I could never do this if my father died. I don't know what I would do with myself.

"It's dangerous here for you. This is a place where I make new friends." The woman whispers but doesn't seem to appear anywhere. I ignore her once again.

Once we're done visiting his father, we get back in his car. Cheryl drives away with Gracie back to the hotel, while Braxton and I just sit in the small parking lot of the cemetery.

"That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." He speaks after a minute or two of silence. This is his first Father's Day without his own father.

"I'm sorry." I breathe out. He looks at me and gives a sad smile.

"It's okay... I'm okay." His voice then gets slightly more confident. He places his hand on my thigh and rubs with his thumb softly. I no longer react oddly when he touches my thigh, for I am already used to this repeated touch.