Set Free

Set Free Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

  When I got home from school that day, I still crying.  I had been since I left the cafeteria,  and the tears just wouldn't stop.

I knew in my mind, as I crouched in a corner of my unfamiliar room in the dark, that it was wrong to kill myself. That I wasn't supposed to, and that Justin wouldn't have wanted it. He would've wanted me to live a full, happy life, and I knew that. But how could I do that when all I knew was the pain of him not being here with me? The hot, searing pain, tearing at my already weak heart. How could I just go on like this? I'd already been through him dying, and I was still feeling the pain for many months after. Though, it wasn't like I'd expected anything less than this, but I still reveled at the thought of how it was like Justin's death was an earthquake that shook my life to the very core, and now I was feeling the aftershocks. The only difference was that they never ended. The pain I felt,  it never ended. The two modes I had right now were, searing, screaming pain, and dull, whimpering pain. It didn't seem at the time like it could ever be anything else. I couldn't even remember anymore what it was like to not be in pain.

  And I, silly as I was,  just thought that this was hard proof of how much I loved him. This was proof that I couldn't live without him, at least not happily. That it was an impossibility. I still remembered even now when I'd told him long ago that I couldn't, but he'd said assuringly, "Of course you could live without me. Don't talk like that." I was sad that I had been right.

And thinking now of that happy time with Justin just made me cry even more.

Will this pain EVER end?? I wondered to myself.

The answer was yet to be revealed.

                                                                      ..................

  Saturday passed slowly, and mostly consisted of me crying. My parents were getting even more worried when I never even left my own room that day.

 But when Sunday morning arrived, I was anxious to be out of the house. Today was the first time my family was going to try out a church here. The one my mom had chosen was First Baptist Church of Miami. I had dutifully gotten up early that morning, and I'd even decided to wear a dress. Which is quite rare for me. I figured that maybe leaving the house would be a good distraction. Maybe dressing up and putting myself into something would take my mind off the things I was dealing with.

  I was wrong. The moment we drove up and I saw the church, I thought of Justin and started crying again, and it didn't stop, either. I cried during the whole service, because I just couldn't help it. My parents had to constantly keep telling people that I was okay, that I was just grieving. Some people even had the nerve to appear ticked off, and they said things like, "Save grieving for a funeral.", or, "Could you shut her up, please? We're trying to listen."

  Since I'd had my head bent the whole time,  I hadn't even had the time to notice that Nick was carefully watching me from a few pews over.

  In fact, I didn't notice him at all, even after the lengthy sermon ended and church went out, until he suddenly appeared out of the blue at my car window while my parents talked to the pastor. I guessed they were discussing me and my 'situation' like they always did. It wasn't fair that they were adults and were allowed to tell people about me and Justin and my suicidal issues. I hated that they did that, the way they spread my personal life that I tried so hard to keep a secret like wildfire to whoever they thought could possibly 'help' me. But I didn't want or need that kind of help. The only thing, I believed, that could help me now was dying. I thought that I knew for sure that there was no other way.

  "Hey in there." Nick said softly as he leaned in towards my open window.

"Hey." I mumbled as dully as possible I stared ahead at my parents, not even wanting to look at him. Our last converstion still stung in my memory.

"You know I wasn't trying to be mean the other day." Nick told me. "I just want to understand why you want to.....you know."

  "You don't have to understand it,  Nick, I ---"

Then he interrupted me.

"Right, right, I know. Cause it's not my business. But what you don't seem to understand is that I WANT to get it. I still want to be friends with you, no matter how terrible you are to me. And I think it'd be good for you to have someone to talk to about stuff besides your parents, especially since it doesn't seem like you've even been talking to them much at all since the accident. At least not about anything below the surface, or, about,  you know,  the stuff that really matters right now. Or about why you want to die. But I know I can't change your mind, if you're really just so set on being all alone. I just want you to know there's someone here for you, someone else who cares, even if it doesn't make much of a difference to you, even if you don't give a crap. I'm here, alright?"

After he finished he sighed, appearing exasperated by all this. But who wouldn't be?

I nodded slowly, but remained silent. It was hard for me at that point not to give in and just tell him everything and completely trust him. Even though I barely knew him, he was the only one who knew almost everything, and he seemed to really care. I thought that must mean something. But what I wondered was, why did it mean something? And why did he even care about me in the first place?

  "Thanks," Nick said. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. See you laterl, Amber." He patted my arm that was hanging out of the car window gently, and walked away to his car, but not without turning around midway and waving to me before he drove off.

 Then I had an afterthought. He had been alone.

I wonder where his parents are? I wondered absentmindedly. Not that I care. I quicly added to my thoughts.

Or did I? Did I care? I still couldn't explain to myself much of my actions the other day in the classroom, and why it had bothered me so much that he had said such harsh things to me, and then acted like he cared the next day. The only explanation for why it would affect me so, and why I would react like that to him, and forgive him and trust him so easliy,  would have to be that.....

  Oh, no. It can't be, I thought,  that I like him?  As more than a friend? No, no, no, no.

I shook her head forcefully, trying to rid my mind of that one terrible, awkward, impossible, yet probably true thought.

Until just this second, I had thought that that was entirely impossible, especially right now, especially after what I had literally just been through.........or was it?