Going, Going, Gone

Chapter 3

I stormed up to the cabin, threw myself down on my bunk, and didn’t move an inch until sunset.

I heard some of the others come and go throughout the rest of the day. They’d come into the cabin, probably to retrieve something, and some would stop to check on me. A couple of them sounded like they wanted to say something to me, but they never did.

I never really went to sleep. I didn’t even close my eyes, at least not for any extended amount of time. I just stared at the wooden planks of the ceiling, trying to transform the small, dusty cabin into the peaceful blue haven of the lake. But I couldn’t. Every time I got even remotely close to the calm feeling of the underwater haven, I remembered Chase pulling me away from it. And I became angry. Very angry. Like, literally fuming mad. It was actually lucky that no one tried to say anything to me, because if they had, I probably would’ve ripped their throat out.

When the sun had fully set and it was dark outside, I sat up. I rested my head against the wooden backboard of the bunk and closed my eyes. I wanted to stop thinking about the lake and Chase and anything else that had happened that afternoon. I didn’t want to think at all.

As I felt myself sneaking somewhere close to some sort of sleep, I heard the cabin door creak open. I didn’t open my eyes or even flinch, assuming that it was just one of the others come to get something they needed. I heard the footsteps cross the cabin in my direction slowly. Then I heard the footsteps stop at the end of my bunk.

“What?” I demanded irritably, still not opening my eyes.

“It’s me.” The person said.

I opened my right eye. It was Beth, standing with her arms crossed at the foot of my bunk.

Reluctantly, I opened my other eye as well and arched my eyebrow. I knew that Beth was one of those people who like to “talk it out” and “get things out in the open”. But I didn’t want to open up about anything. I just wanted sleep.

“I said, what?” I repeated, still irritated.

“Tabitha, we need to talk about what happened at the lake today.” Beth’s tone was calm but firm—which was a perfect description of her entire personality.

I chuckled, surprising myself. Chuckling was a strange response to what had happened at the lake. No, not just strange—insane. Nearly psychotic.

I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back against the headboard. “Oh, Beth.” I sighed. “You’re so predictable.”

I heard Beth huff indignantly. “Well, you certainly aren’t,” she retorted with a hint of sass.

I arched my eyebrow again but kept my eyes closed. “What can I say?” I answered teasingly. “I like to keep ‘em guessing.”

“Well, you accomplished your goal,” Beth said, still sounding a bit annoyed by my jab at her being predictable. “No one expected you to try to drown yourself today.”

My eyes popped open as I jerked my head up. “What?!” I screeched, my voice suddenly hoarse.

Beth’s expression appeared sympathetic now as she dropped her previously crossed arms to her side. “Listen, things are tough for all of us, but suicide is no way out. You’ve gotta try. You’ve gotta survive. You’ve gotta live your life. That’s the best way—the only way—to rebel against them.”

I swung my legs off the bunk, letting my feet hit the hard wooden floor with a thump! I could feel my eyes bucking wide.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice continuing to sound hoarse and wild. “I didn’t try to drown myself!”

Beth looked at me sadly. “Tabitha…you don’t have to try and hide it. We all saw what happened.”

 “What?” I challenged, leaping to my feet. “What did you see? What happ—what do you think happened?”

Beth still looked sad. “Tabitha, don’t make me go through this.”

I scowled. “Tell me,” I growled. “Tell me what you think you saw.”

Beth sighed heavily. “You fell into the lake,” she began slowly, “just like the rest of us, except backwards—and you just…stayed down there. You moved around a little, but then you just stayed still. We could see a shadow of you. And…and it looked like you were breathing in water. On purpose.”

I stood, motionless, listening to Beth’s description of what she had seen. When she finished, I began shaking my head, slowly at first, but then more and more vigorously.

“No,” I said. “That…that couldn’t have been…I mean, that’s not…that’s not what happened.”

Beth nodded grimly. “I believe that is what happened, Tabitha. I’m sorry.”

I sat down on the edge of the bunk, still shaking my head. Suddenly, the full coldness of the cabin hit me, and I rubbed my bare arms. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what really happened at the lake—what I’d seen, what I’d heard, what I’d done—but I couldn’t. All I remembered was the bright blue water and the yellow sunshine and that calm feeling I’d had. I’d felt at peace. I’d felt resolved. But…resolved…to what? Resolved to what?

I bent over and put my head in my hands, rocking back and forth. I ran my hands over my curly, thick hair and took a bunch of deep breaths, trying to keep from crying or throwing up. I felt Beth patting me on the back. For the first time in three months, I didn’t shrink away from her display of affection.

Finally, when I felt that I could keep my puke and tears back, I looked up at Beth. She had tears pooling in her eyes, too. There was a bit of an awkward silence, and then Beth decided she should say something to break it. “You’ve…you just have to be strong, Tabitha. Okay?”

I stared back at her, the tears I’d been trying so hard to fight back coming easily to my eyes again. “Why should I?”

Beth bit her lip, and it seemed she was really struggling to keep from crying. “You…you just have to. We all have to. Sucky things happen to all of us. But we have to stay strong. It’s just life, you know? We have to keep going.”

Suddenly, a felt a small spark of rage in the pit of my stomach. “But why?” I countered, slowly standing up. “Why do I ‘just have to’ keep going?”

Beth moved her hand from my back to her pocket and shrugged, a tear escaping from her eye and down her cheek. “Because it’s life, Tabitha. And life has to move on.”

“Well, I don’t want it to move on,” I responded, feeling full-on indignant now. “I didn’t just have ‘sucky’ things happen to me, Beth. You think my parents dying is just ‘sucky’? You think my older brother dying is ‘just life’? Do you think this entire freaking war is just the way life is?”

I noticed Beth open her mouth and try to say something, tears now flowing freely down her face, but I refused to stop, refused to listen.

“This isn’t how things are supposed to be!” I clenched my fists at my sides and raised my voice. “I’m not supposed to be running across the country with some random guy I just met a few months ago. I’m not supposed to be sleeping at different places every two weeks. I’m not supposed to be confused about who I am or who my friends are or who the enemy is. Everyone acts like this war is just standard procedure, that life was always like this. But it wasn’t. I don’t have a home anymore, Beth. I don’t have a family. I don’t have anything. And I didn’t want this! I didn’t want my life to be like this. I shouldn’t have to put up with this! I should be able to give up if I want to!”

I could feel the tears pouring down my own face, could feel myself sucking in big, shaky breaths between every sentence, could feel that big, weird lump that forms in my throat trying whenever I cry. But I didn’t care. I pushed past Beth, emitting a sob from her, and ran out of the cabin.