Still Here

20

The ride home is only a reminder that Cara never got one. She never got a second chance.

Why? Why couldn't she get this?

There are moments when I am at peace. Like yesterday, watching Porter play tag with my friends and sitting with Michael. Moments when I understand that Cara is really gone and there isn't anything that can be done about that. That all I can do is keep going.

But then there are moments when I just don't get it. I don't understand why this had to happen. Why she couldn't be in my place. Why she couldn't have just fucking stayed. I don't see why the world has to be so cruel. Why nobody even knows that I almost killed myself, but I accidentally ran in front of a car and now Michael hates himself for something that wasn't his fault.

I wish I could have that peace. That peace of knowing that Cara's death was not my fault.

But it was.

Her last words are permanently ingrained in my fucked up head.

I hate you.

I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my head against the cool car window.

"Are you alright back there?" Dad asks.

"Yeah," I lie, "Just some chest pain."

They nod and there is silence. My mother turns on the radio to fill the quiet.

I want to ask her why she can't be comfortable in the silence. Why she cannot bask in it. Why she can't just be okay with it. Just fucking accept that life isn't always perfect and you don't always have a radio station to turn to and a volume button to block out your pain.

However, I do not ask.

I just listen to the music, the bass thumping along with my mechanical heartbeat.