Clear Eyes

Chapter 1

"And do you still feel guilty?"

Of course Dr. Garcia would ask this. He usually did. I made a mistake of telling him I felt guilty about the accident. The guilt will never stop, but if I have any chances to stop the therapy sessions, I gotta give the doc what he wants to hear.

"No, I've accepted that I had nothing to do with it. Just a wrong place, wrong time situation."

He keeps a blank face, noting something down on his notepad. He looks up giving me a smile. "I think we need to continue the sessions a little while longer."

I slammed my fist down on the wooden coffee table. "How many times do I have to say I'm fine" I snap. Not my finest moment.

"Hmm" he writes something else down, most likely the fact that I belong in a mental hospital. "Jason, were all worried about you."

The clock finally struck 5:15 pm. "Times up" I state, basically throwing on my jacket.

"Jason" Dr. Garcia stresses, but I'm already out the door, rushing out the waiting room. The occupants of the waiting room gave me questionable glances, but therapy sessions always drained me.

Digging my car keys from my front pocket of my bookbag, I unlock my 2007 Mazda 3 sport. The engine purred under my hood, calming me down instantly. I couldn't go home just yet. Mom would ask how therapy went and dad would just make it worse when I refuse to answer.

My parents weren't there when it happened. They couldn't possibly understand what happened and they all, but forgot about her.

Easing out my parking space, I turned onto Main Street, heading to Café 715, the only decent coffee place in this town. We lived in a small town in Maine, just south of the Canadian border. The town was small, and everyone knew everything. You couldn't keep a secret in this hick town.

I pulled up to the town square, sliding into a parking space next to the café. The warm August air, was just beginning to cool down slightly. School started back up again in a few days, and another summer was gone.

I used to spend summers on stage with a guitar while she sang, but it all was taken away from me. Why should I perform, when she wasn't allowed to.

"Jason!" I looked back and saw my best bud Matt running towards me. Matt, short for Matthew, had been my best friend for almost 14 years. We met each other in preschool, and it never ceased to amaze me that were still going strong.

"Hey" I said, trying to mask over the pain that my therapist keeps making me relive. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. I was just heading to the café. How 'bout you?" This was one of the best parts about Matt; he never pries when he knows not to.

"Same, didn't really feel like going home" He nods, holding the shop door open.

The sudden aroma of ground coffee beans filled my nose, with the warm homey feel of bistro. With the small karaoke stage, and small leather seats. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and photos of customers past.

Café 715 was owned by the Cortez's'. They migrated from Italy over 25 years ago, and opened up this little shop. It's done well in this small town.

Mrs. Cortez smiled at as if we sat down on one of the pair of chairs in front of the stage. "Well if it isn't my favorite bambinos."

"Hey Mrs. Cortez" we greeted in unison.

She shook her head in response. "I told you to call me Angela." Her smile was contagious, I couldn't help the grin the spread across my face. "The usual?" We nodded in response, as she scurried off to make our cappuccinos, and warm up our scones.

"So, any particular reason you don't wanna go home?" I mentally groaned. He knew better than to bring it up, but I'd have to face it at some point.

"Dad's been beating my ass lately. I can't seem to do anything right. It's not like he was there that night." My heart strings pulled, just by the mention of that horrid night. "And mom is just over protective."

I sigh contently when the cappuccinos and scones are set in front of us. I look up to be greeted with a younger version of Angela. "Alex?" She nods, shyly.

Alex, short for Alessia, left freshman year for Italy, to study under her uncle, who was the headmaster there. "When did you get back?" Matt questions.

Alex and I weren't exactly friends. She was more of friends with her, but whoever she was friends with, I was too. Matt on the other hand was smitten for her. He even shared his first kiss with her, mostly likely the reason why both of them had a faint hint of pink on both of their cheeks.

"Just last night" her Italian accent really showcased the last three years of her life.

While they caught up, I excused myself to the bathroom. I was good at removing myself from an equation, when I wasn't wanted.

After splashing some cold water on my face, I returned back to our table. Alex looked up and right then and there I knew she knew. The way her eyes shone with sympathy was what I avoided for so long. It didn't matter if she just felt sorry for me. I couldn't handle the pity, and sympathy.

I quickly grabbed my phone from the coffee table, running from my problems once again. I heard Matt calling my name, but I was far too angry to stop.

He eventually caught up by the time I reached my car. "Jason, what's wrong?" His eyes showed concern, but deep down he was ashamed. He thought I ran because of him.

"I just... I had to go" His stance looks defeated and I almost feel bad, but he must have been the one to tell Alex about the accident. Could I even call it an accident? It was more of an execution, but that just makes my gut wrench.

Matt let me go in peace, but something tells me I'll feel guilty about it later. He stuck through me this past year. He didn't abandon me when the times got tough, but I can't help but feel indebted to him. When I fell into my dark time, he helped me to the light.

By the time this actually made sense to me, Matt was long gone. Probably feeling pretty bad, about whatever he thinks he did.