devoid love • tate langdon

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: FIND A WAY

  I had tried to kill myself many times before the night Tate saved me. I had tried pills but got scared and threw up before they could fully effect me. I had tried to hang myself but the rope snapped which was quite pridefully embarrassing. I had tried the cutting of the wrists before. I had tried the bridge act. I had done it all. But none of it had worked. I was starting to wonder if that meant something. 

  Maybe I wasn't meant to die. Not just yet. What if I was supposed to die at a certain time and for a reason? Does that make sense? Of course it does. I have always been the one to believe in fate. The world does things for reasons no matter how fucked up those reasons are. But then...if that were true...my parents must have died for a reason too. 

  They had died awhile back. I tried not to think about it often but with everything going on lately, I started to think of my past a lot more than I normally did. All the things that had led up to what was happening in my life now. When they died...that is when it all turned to shit. Complete and utter shit. A car crash. That is what I was told. I remember the police coming to my house.

  Two policemen came to my house and I was there with Ally since my parents didn't want me to be alone in the house while they went on a small trip. It wasn't supposed to be long. The trip was going to be about four or five hours long depending on traffic. I still don't remember what the trip was about. 

  The police told me they had crashed into another car, fallen off a bridge, and drowned in the ocean underneath the bridge. I hadn't really understood what they had said at first but when Ally started crying and trying to hit her fists on the policemen's chest, I had realized what the police men had been explaining to me. That my parents died. That the people who made me were dead. That the people who cared for me were dead. That was a lot to handle.

  Ally thought I might be depressed even before I started hurting myself. I think that she why she really started to pursue on her college major at psychology. I think she wanted to help me. Be able to understand what I was going through with studies and books rather than just talk to me. But that didn't happen. Ally cared for me, I knew that, but she didn't know how to help me with my parents death. And neither did I. 

  When the police showed up at our house after the invasion and break in with them trying to kill us for some guy that had killed a nurse, Ally had wanted to move. I, even though the schools here were terrible, wanted to stay. I kind of liked the house despite the creepy basement. Plus, I wanted to be with Tate. The guy who did understand me. And that is where I was now. Fighting with Ally in the hallway about that exact topic. 

  "But I don't want to leave!" I yell. Ally sighs. 

  "Callie. I know this is hard. We just moved here and your just getting used to it, but what just happened to us was terrible. We can't stay in a place with that kind of memory." She tries but I wasn't listening, shaking my head with scoff. I look back to her with narrowed eyes. 

  "Yes we can! Yeah, we got broken into by a couple of crazy people. That type of thing happens all the time! Homes all over the u.s get broken into all the time!" I yell, trying to reason with her. 

  "Not like this. People steal things yes, but when people come in here and try to kill us with some sort of ritual, it's a whole new level." She says, her voice becoming a bit more firm. Normally, whenever she used this tone, I would drop the subject knowing she was angry and not be able to be reasoned with but I wouldn't with this. I wanted to stay here and I needed her to understand we were fine here. 

  "Ally! We are fine here! Yeah, we'll remember being broken into but we'll get over it!" I yell, throwing my hands around as I talked. She holds up a hand.