A Free Life

Chapter 12 James

James stared out of his window. The sky was dark and gloomy. Rain was pouring from everywhere. A blue phone sat in front of him. A blue phone sitting in a plastic bag. Everything for James seemed to be frozen as he stared out into the street. Waiting for his father to return with more bad news. More of her things found by the river. First it was her phone. Her perfect blue phone. A phone the friends had thought could never be broken; broken. Water from the river had gotten in it and James' mother was in charge of trying to get it to work again.

"Jamie?" a small voice whispered through the silence. James didn't move from his spot at the table. "Jamie I found something in your room." James stared out the window. Rain pounding down on the black concrete. Splashing freely through the night. "It's a letter." squeaked the small voice.

"Leave me alone Joey." James snapped as thunder boomed through the air. Joey took a step back; her brown hair covered the front of her face. James turned around to see his little sister. She was holding an envelope with James' name written on it.

"Bring it here." James said softly as her motioned her over with his hand. Joey handed him the letter and ran out of the kitchen. James turned the letter over. His name was written beautifully in pure black ink. It was perfect. Slowly he opened the letter. The paper ripped easily in his hands.

James froze as her looked at the letter. Rebecca's hand writing was everywhere on the letter. At first it was filled with her beauty, but then it got sloppy and ugly. The black ink was smeared in places, and circles that signified water covered the paper. Was this a note telling James what she was going to do? Could he have stopped everything from happening?

James jumped out of his chair as his ringtone resonated throughout the silent kitchen. Slowly James picked up his phone to see Rain's name across the screen. James clicked the phone icon to answer the phone.

"May 16, 2015. 9:57 A.M. I think I understand now; why it was so hard. It's who I am that make me weak. I'm the type of person who is weak inside. The person who doesn't like to be told what to do and when to do it. I run my own game. I run my own life. And that is what makes me weak." Rain paused to take a breath, "Because I run my own way; I am weak to others. People are what weaken me. I am a bomb. I can't win fight because no one can win a fight alone. They need someone by their side. God. A friend. A family member.

When someone stands alone they are different. And in this world being different is a weakness. When truly it is not. I think I understand that because of who I am I can never win a fight, because I am too weak to admit that I am. My type of person is truly the person afraid of the world; afraid of judgement; afraid of themselves; afraid of others. My type of person is so afraid they can't ask for help when they need it. Because they don't want to be seen as weak; as a failure." Rain's voice grew weak.

"For that is their true weakness. The fear of failure; Atychiphobia. Failure make them feel like the world has ended. Failure can be determined as anything the mind wants to perceive it as. Failure is a trick of the mind; a trick of not being good enough.

However, even though I understand what kind of person I am; I also know one more thing. Because of who i am, I only hurt people. I've seen my parents become weaker because of my reluctance to talk. I hurt people and I don't like it. I know that if I need help I should ask, but I would hurt everyone around me. If they figured out my thoughts, then there would be nothing left of them. Nothing left of the people I love," She took another breath.

" So here I am; writing on a piece of paper in someone else's house. To be truthful I don't know what I'm doing writing these letters. I just wanted you to know a little bit more about me. After all I know much more about you than me. Rain, and whoever else gets this letter. I hope to god you find this before I leave; I want to be saved. I really do. I just don't know where to start. Rebecca Stevens." Rain stopped at her name. Her voice gone dull. James didn't know what to say.

"Rain?" James asked quietly; breaking the silence.

"Could I have stopped it?" Her voice crackled through the phone. "If I had just looked through my drawers, could I have saved her?" James didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. And he didn't know how to say it. But the answer could've been both yes and no.