The Butterfly Effect (Rewritten)

Chapter Three - Part 2

I turned the key in the door and found my parents weren't home. I locked the front door behind me and paid a glance at the living room. The coast was clear. Megan, of course, had to be to be home whenever my parents weren't. I heard her music as I bounded up the stairs to my room.

"Meow!" Rusty swayed toward me from down the hall.

Well, at least someone is happy I'm home. I held my bedroom door open for him.

I tossed my bag on my bed and kicked the door closed with my heel. My shoulders pulsed with stress. I wanted to sleep and forget meeting Jared's mom; forget that there were questions without answers. I sighed and removed the SD card from my pocket. I set it on my nightstand and changed into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt.

After I changed I joined Rusty on my bed and petted him. "You love me, don't you?"

Uninterrupted purring seemed to be the only response I'd get. Fair enough.

I pulled my laptop out from under my bed and plucked the SD card from my nightstand. I slipped the card into the SD port and waited. A video file popped up on the lower right-hand side of my screen. I clicked it. It opened a folder that revealed six video clips of Jared. I rolled my cursor over the first video. My heart pounded in my chest at the date the video had been labeled. 1-11-16. The night of the crash. I plugged in my headphones and pressed play. Jared's unwavering gaze emerged on the screen. He was in someone's bedroom, but not his own from what I could tell.

"I realized I needed to try something different. Tonight I told someone there were things we don't come back from. I sat outside thinking for a long time..." he looked down. "This can't be all there is for me. The truth is I want to come back from this. I'm not going to let my dad ruin my life. So I picked up Mr. Wilson's camera and pressed record. I want to keep track of everything I'm doing wrong and hopefully, I'll learn from my mistakes. I don't know if it will work, but only time will tell."

A lump sat in my throat. He was talking about me. But Jared mentioning me wasn't even the most chilling factor. These videos weren't funny skits or short films, they were video logs from a dead boy. I shivered. What was the morality of watching a dead boy's final moments, listening to his last words? I moved my cursor and tapped the 2-21-16 clip.

"It's been a month," Jared started.

His hair was shorter and he shaved the stubble from the last video. Jared's signature gray hoodie had been disowned for a checkered red and black flannel. And this time, he was back in his room.

"I broke my habit of smoking. I got a job. My dad doesn't help things, though. Every time we scream at each other I just wanna get high. I don't want the stress. I just wanna forget. He wants rent now that I'm working," Jared laughed, but any humor was replaced by bitterness, "what kind of parent makes a sixteen-year-old pay rent? That's your kid. Not an ATM. If I'm ever going to make something of myself I can't stay in this house. I need to get out of here, but I have nowhere to go. College isn't an option for me. I'm not good at anything. Forget about my GPA. My brother doesn't want me to go, but I have to. I'm sorry."

He reached for the off button and ended the video.

I clicked on the next video. 2-26-16.

Jared sat on a log in the woods. He wore a thick snow jacket and a black beanie. "It's been years since I've talked to Victoria," he mused, "she messaged me on Facebook and we got into talking. I don't think I've had a good conversation like that in a while. We spent a couple nights catching up. I forgot how funny she was. She was always the type to make out the light in everything. I asked her if she wanted to hang out at the park yesterday and she said yes. Victoria is... hard to describe." He smiled. "We met up at the park around two p.m. She looks different than she did in middle school. Her hair is lighter and longer now. I don't know if she dyes it, but that shade of brown looks good on her. She also has great taste in music. We both like the alternative stuff, not the crap on the radio. We grabbed lunch and I paid for it. It was my last twenty. I don't know what I'm going to eat for the rest of the week, but it was worth it. Victoria and I had fun. I wanna do it again after my next paycheck."