Light Amidst the Darkness

Chapter Ten: CR

Caden Richard

I watch Harper cry in the back of the store, and I don't know what to do.

I can tell she's strong, but I can also tell she's carrying a lot of baggage, which is not what I had in mind when I saved her. I'm not trying to be insensitive--I understand that she has to grieve--but we have to survive, too. We have to keep grieving, keep mourning, keep collecting our losses. We have to move past the worst moments in our live to embrace the best.

Keep going. Just keep pressing on. I did that when Mom left. I did that again when Dad died. And I will continue to do it as I tally up deaths--deaths of my friends, deaths of my classmates, death of my innocence.

"Harper," I say gently, walking up to her.

She looks up at me. Something right behind her eyes is made of fragile glass, that is about to break or maybe is already broken.

"Stop," she says. Her lips barely move, and her eyes lock onto mine as she forcibly shoves her desperation and fear onto me, where I can see it. Her raw, naked pain lances through me until I turn away, my breathing ragged. Her eyes remind me of when I lost my father. That man coming to my doorstep. It was a perfect day, mocking me. The sun was out, only a few fluffy clouds scudded across the sky...

And a man in a suit, walking up the path to the door.

I shudder and bring myself back to reality.

"Harper," I say, leaning forwards and instinctively wrapping my fingers around her wrist--the one holding the phone--she cries out and looks at me with wide eyes. "We need to leave," I continue.

"Get away from me," she croaks, cramming herself away from me, further into the corner. On the other line, I hear her dad crying. "Leave me alone--leave me alone!"

I haven't leaned back fast enough--her foot shoots out at my stomach, but I manage to clumsily block her vicious kick with my already-outstretched hand.

"Harper!" I gasp.

"Get--away--from--me!" With each word, she delivers another kicking attempt. Now ready for them, I manage to dodge all but one--the last. It sends me sprawling to the floor and knocks the wind out of me.

She gets to her feet. "Never touch me again! Do you hear me?" she screams at me. The phone lies on the floor--her dad's stopped crying, shocked, listening in. Her hands are balled and quivering at her sides. She's drawn into herself, preparing for a second attack.

"Stop." I gulp for breath and clutch at my stomach, looking up at her.

For a second, her face shows contempt. Then pity. Then, pain flashes across it, followed by a frenzied sort of desperation. A confused mix of emotions as she stands there, slowly rocking back and forward on the balls of her feet. Finally, she unclenches her fingers. I see bloody crescents where her nails dug into her palms.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean any of that." She reaches out to me, but I scramble backwards and lift myself to my feet. Rummaging through my bag for a second, I pull out my knife, shed it of its tinfoil wrappings, and point it at Harper.

"Don't," I spit through clenched teeth, "ever...do that again."

Her eyes fill with tears and she presses both of her hands on the wall behind her, steadying herself. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice thick, her arms shaking.

I can see that she means it. Slowly, ever so slowly, I lower the knife until it's hanging at my side.

Her hands fall limply at her sides. She just stands there, looking at me. I see the endless pain inside of her fractured eyes. She lets me see behind the irises--she is a girl of glass, and she is broken and desperately needs fixing or else she will fall apart.