Sane

Chapter Ten | Trust

I fill up two glasses with water, placing them in front of us. Walker walked outside without saying a word, which means she probably needs to clear her head. I place my head in my hands, weary.

I should've never left. The thought repeats inside my head.

"I'm sorry about your mom." Forrest finally says, interrupting the thought.

I look up at him, running my shaky fingers through my hair. Tears streak my face as I look into his sorrowful eyes. "I should've never left." I say. He nods for me to go on, reaching his rough hand towards mine.

"It was three or four years after my mom had died and my dad had gone down a very bad path. He filled himself with alcohol, and he had himself a new girlfriend, which happens to be Oakley's biological mother. I know he didn't mean the things he said when he was drunk, but they still-" I swallow.

"It just wasn't the life I wanted, and I sure didn't want it for Oakley. So I ran." I finish, not wanting to share the part about when he was yelling at me to leave.

"You did the right thing, Willow." Forrest mutters, dropping his eyes to the table.

"I never met my dad. He left my mother before I was even born. Even though she was a single mother, she was enough. Things were going great with us, but one morning I could tell something was wrong. I kept asking her what it was, but she kept ignoring me. A few months later, she explained to me that she was pregnant. That night I was so hurt, I spent the whole next day inside my room, hearing her faint cry outside the door." He starts, not making eye contact.

"Our relationship was never the same after that. The day came when my little sister was born, and that same day-" A tear runs down his face and he chokes on his own words. I want to comfort him, but I don't know how.

"That same day, my mom died. I never got the chance to tell her I loved her, or that I had forgiven her. She was gone before I could say anything." He continues, and I bite my lip.

"My sister was taken from me, to a foster home. I wasn't old enough to take care of her." He says, more tears streaking his face. We're all a bunch of broken kids, coming from broken past.

I want to say something, but I don't know what. It's the first time I have opened up to someone, and I think it's the same for Forrest. I really want to feel secure and safe. I guess I feel it most around him. I scoot a little closer, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I lost everyone." He won't look at me. I sit up, gently pulling on the side of his face so he has no choice but to look at me. His sad eyes look into mine. "You won't lose me." I murmur, and he closes his eyes, taking in the words. He presses his forehead up to mine, my hand still resting on the side of his face.

The door to the diner swings open and I let go of him quickly, looking towards the door, where Walker stood. She looked as mad as ever, as she threw her jacket across the ground. Her angry eyes studied us, and her eyes widened as if a switch was clicked inside of her.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing. Sorry I interrupted." She waves her hand at us, as if to say 'carry on'. I raise an eyebrow at her as she relaxes in the booth across from where Oakley is sleeping. She uses her jacket for a pillow against the side of the booth, and closes her eyes.

I shrug my shoulders, and the sleeve of my sweater falls off my shoulder again. I suddenly realize how tired I am. I spent the whole day travelling with Forrest's weight on my shoulders. I hear Forrest shift behind me and I turn and look, seeing he has his back rested on the wall, his legs spread out.

"Come here." He waves his hand towards himself, and I would've told him no yesterday, but today was a different day. I trust him. I slowly turn, scooting back in between his legs. I rest my back on his chest, and lay my head on the left side of his collar bone.

I watch her warm blue eyes as they find mine. She tries smiling, but I can still see the pain in her eyes she's trying so hard to hide.

"I love you, Willow. I always will." She tells me, reaching her hand out of the hospital sheets. I take it, a tear running down my cheek.

"Don't leave me." I cry.

"I won't ever leave you. I'll always be here." My mom points to my heart, as her eyes slowly shut. I watch as two doctors come rushing in. Her chest slowly stops moving and I sit there, not blinking.

"What's happening?" I yell at the doctors, but no one listens. My dad places a firm hand on my shoulder, but I squirm out of it. I wrap my arms around my mother, screaming and crying.

"No! Don't leave me! Mom!" I scream in terror, as the doctors pull me away from her body and take me out of the room.

"Willow!" A voice wakes me up from the nightmare, and I look up into the eyes of Forrest.

"Willow. You're safe." Forrest soothes, wiping the tears from my face with his thumb. The diner is dark, and I can only see his face. I shake uncontrollably as I try to get my thoughts together. I breathe in and out, trying to calm down.

I slowly get out of Forrest's arms, and walk to the bathroom in the back of the diner.

"Willow." I hear Forrest plead behind me, but I ignore him. I look at myself in the mirror, seeing the bloodshot eyes looking right back at me. I wonder what my mom would think of who I am now. Would she look at me and be proud? Or would she be disappointed? I itch my bare neck and top of my chest, placing my back up against the bathroom wall. I slide down it, landing on the floor. I start crying, remembering what Forrest had said. "Stay strong for me, okay?"

I can't do that. I only pretend I have it all together. I only pretend that I can survive. But the truth is, I can't. The only thing that is keeping me sane at this point is Oakley. I have to show him that I'm the sister he thinks I am.

I run my hands up and down my thighs nervously. I get my composure together before standing up, leaving the bathroom. Forrest is standing right outside the door, holding onto the edge of a booth to hold him up.

"I'm fine." I tell him.

"No, you're not." He states, grabbing my hand. I bite my lip, wiping my wet cheeks with the end of my sweater. He leans forward, pressing his lips on my forehead. I am so surprised, I just stand there, and for a second, all of the bad thoughts leave. He steps back, smirking almost. Dropping my hand, he walks himself back over to the booth. I don't move, trying to process what just happened. Was that to comfort me, or was that saying that he liked me? If it was to comfort me, how did he know it would work?

I slide into an empty booth, leaning my head against the wall. I'm not falling asleep, not for another nightmare. I reach for my backpack and pull out my journal and pen. I begin to write, using the faint light of the moon shining through the window. Clearing my head with a pencil and paper came a lot easier than I expected.