Chapter four
He opened the door.
"Come in," he said. "please come in."
I followed him through the door with Alice right behind me. It's crazy how a stranger could calm me down so much.
Their house was exactly how I pictured it to be. It was nothing out of the ordinary and the living room he led us into was an average family living room. One couch lay in front of the television with a love seat on one side and a chair on the other. Pictures decorated the walls of family, dogs, and Alaska. I smiled seeing her at younger ages. The walls were a cream color which gave off a homey feeling. Despite the unkept outside of the house, the inside was quite nice.
"Wendy!" Alaska's dad yelled, disappearing into another room.
"Wendy?" I whispered into Alice's ear. "Like Wendy from Neverland?"
She nodded. "Mr Young's name is even Peter. How crazy is that?"
Perhaps that was why Alaska was so held on to the idea of Peter Pan. She saw her parents and wanted to be like them and wanted to find her happy place.
Alaska's mother, who resembled Alaska almost exactly, came barging into the room. "Alice?" She turned towards the girl sitting next to me on the couch. "What are you doing here?" She turned towards me. "Who is this? Peter said you know something about Alaska?"
"Actually Mrs Young," Alice started. "This is Luke. He needs to talk to you. I just gave him directions." She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, something she seemed to always be doing.
They sat down on the love seat, staring at me intensely, waiting for me to say something.
I started to regret coming here. I shouldn't have came here, it was a mistake. Here I am, sitting in front of my dead girlfriend's parents, not knowing what to say. What would I even say? What easy way is there to tell parents their child just killed themselves? There is no easy way.
"Well?" Mrs Young pushed.
I cleared my throat. "I was in the asylum with Alaska. We grew extremely close, inseparable even."
"What are you saying?" Mr Young said. "Where's Alaska?"
"Sir, if you'd please let me speak." They shut up. "Thank you."
I continued. "We started dating and fell in love. I was discharged from the asylum and we were so lovestruck, we didn't want to be separate.
"So we ran away, and we didn't look back and we ran away to Canada where I got my hands on a decent apartment and everything we would need to start a life. We were happy, and everything was perfect."
"She needed to be there, Luke. She was mentally ill." Her mother spat.
"Maybe she was," I said. "But I didn't care. She wasn't crazy, simply different. She's been through a lot and getting out was exactly what she needed. I tried to teach her how to control herself, her voices, and eventually the voices were subsiding."
"Why were you in there?" Wendy asked. "I don't know if I feel comfortable with you being in my home."
"I'll pretend not to be offended by that," I said. "My parents were slaughtered in front of me when I was a child. I was tied up by this mysterious man, who the police never found, and forced to watch my parents slowly and painfully die. So without a doubt, my mind became fucked up. I could get the day out of my head and it was driving me absolutely crazy, so I checked myself in."
Alice placed a hand on my knee. I pushed it off. I didn't need her sympathy.
She was looking at me with sad eyes, as were Alaska's parents. I hated when people felt bad for me. If they never cared about you before, I found it hard to believe that they could care for you as soon as something horrible happens. But that's how the world works. People only care about you if you've lost someone, are dying, or extremely beautiful.
"Anyways," I coughed. "Alaska killed herself."
I could have said it in a more subtle manor, but I'm not really for that. I get to the point.
They broke into tears. Their eyes flooded with sorrow and even Alice began to tremble a little bit. Wendy sulked in her husbands chest as he rubbed circles into her back in attempt to sooth her.
"With a bullet," I continued. "I came home from picking up pizza and found her."
"Why'd she do it?" Wendy spoke between cries.
"Everyone breaks eventually," I told her. "I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't have left her alone! She was fucking I'll, you dick!" Peter yelled. "Who the hell leaves a crazy person home alone? Another crazy person, that's who."
He has every right to hate me. The thought that I could have prevented her death killed me, but it happened and there's no going back.
"Listen," I said. "She was my neverland and now that she's gone I'm forced to try to fill this empty voice that's in my chests. I loved her, and love isn't something that comes a lot to people like me. Do you not think I blame myself for this? Because I do, so you don't need to remind me. You're lucky I even came and told you became nobody, nobody would have fucking done it."
"She's happier now?" Wendy calmed down.
"I guarantee it."
She started to bawl again. "Oh, my poor baby girl! What did she do to deserve this, Peter! What did we do wrong?"
"We didn't do anything wrong, dear." He stroked her hair. "Alaska was special, that's all. We didn't do anything wrong. Nothing wrong at all."
Mr and Mrs Young let me into Alaska's room. It was nothing how I expected it to be. I expected it to be dark and dreary, but it was the complete opposite. The walls were colored a light blue and the bed in the middle of the room was dressed with a blue and grey comforter. There were pictures of some bands on the wall like Nirvana and All Time Low, her two favorite bands, and a picture of Marilyn Monroe. Her bureau was empty, only with a single picture of her parents and herself on one of her birthdays. I picked up the picture, examining it closely, and smiled at what I saw. The looked genuinely happy and I wish things could have stayed that way for them all. However, things don't always go as planned.
Her bathroom was clean. The sink was stained red. It was crazy to think where I stood was where Alaska let her pain out. I don't know if I liked that. I received bad vibes in this bathroom.
I left. I was back in her bedroom again. Sitting down on her bed, I could smell the sweet rose smell Alaska had. It brought back memories. Happy memories that I would do anything to go back to.
Her lips, like thorns, and her cheeks, like a rose. Her eyes, dark and lost, her perfect features, her perfect self. Her mind, though it was a jungle, was beautiful in every way. She was beautiful in every way. She was perfect. She was mine.
Now she is dead.
I didn't realize I was crying until I saw a tear fall down onto my leg.
A/N: w0W an update within twenty four hours how unlikely of me
it would be rad if you could make edits for this story that would be wicked cool
PLEASEEEE comment :) things are starting to take action now and the next chapter will surprise you :)
What do you think will happen??
Love you and stay young,
sam
