Finding Solace

XL

After dinner, I returned to my room, the door quietly clicking shut as I pressed my forehead against the wood, biting my smiling lip. Despite the passing hours, I could still feel the imprint of his hand on mine, his heat lingering on my skin even though it had faded long ago. Shivers racked my body and goose bumps formed at the memory of his calloused fingers tracing the back of my hand. Pressing my back to the door, I traced my fingers across the invisible path that his took, drawing random figures and shapes across my skin, reminiscing his touch.

A vibration sounded in the room, making me snap out of my trance. It was a quiet yet sharp buzzing noise. At first, I was confused but when it sounded again, about a minute later, I realized it was my phone, letting me know I had a missed text.

Pushing off the door, I sat on my bed, pulling open the nightstand, only to see my phone face up, glowing. I was surprised it was even still on since it hadn't been used or charged in a few months. Picking it up, I brought it closer to my face, only to see I that I had not only an unread text but a missed phone call as well. Both were from the person; someone I needed yet dreaded talking to. Pressing the screen, I held it up to my ear, listening to the monotonous dial tone.

"Mr. Eyler." I acknowledged him as he picked up the phone. "Did," I swallowed heavily. "Did you need something."

"Faylyn-" By his melancholic tone, I knew."

"It's happening soon, isn't it?" I felt the acidic bile rising in my throat, my hands beginning to shake.

"Unfortunately. The appeal got approved through bribery, along with the judge that was appointed. I submitted it to the courts and a new judge was brought it, along with a whole new jury. I asked to have the date pushed back but it had already been set."

"Then why didn't the appeal get denied if was bribed? Isn't this illegal?"

"It is illegal and the people who were bribed were fired and will have a trial of their own. Unfortunately, since new evidence is being brought forth, the appeal would have been approved anyway, just not this fast."

"When is it?" I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek.

"Next week, the nineteenth ." He sighed. "I wanted to inform you sooner but they just got back to me about my complaint." His voice turned softer. "I'm really sorry but there's nothing else I can do."

"It's- It's okay." I held back a sob, the tears now running down my face. "I- I better go."

"I'm am really sorry, Faylyn. I promise I'll do anything within my power to ensure the best possible sentencing. You've already been proven innocent."

"Thank you." I whispered.

"Stay safe, okay?"

"You too." I hung up the the phone, throwing it onto the bed beside me.

Sinking onto the floor, I hugged my legs, sobbing into my knees. Although I knew this day was coming, the inevitable, I wasn't prepared for it to happen so soon. I had to leave and I wouldn't be able to come back, I wouldn't come back. Once they've found out what I did, what I am, I would no longer be welcomed in this house.

Pushing myself off the floor, my vision still blurred with tears, I pulled open my closet door, pulling out my duffle bag and began to pack up the folded clothes in the dresser. I tried to hide my sobs but some escape my mouth, my bottom lip quivering. Next, with shaking hands, I began to pull each shirt down, folding them before packing them up. If I didn't leave now, I would never be able to bring myself to.

"Faylyn?" I knocked sounded on my door, making me freeze. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine." I responded, my voice raw and hoarse. I fumbled around with the shirt, my mind not coordinating my hands and I resulted to just shoving the few remaining shirts into the bag.

"Are you- are you crying?" I didn't answer him, just walked across the room and pulled my medicine bottles out, the pills rattling. I heard my door click open as the dropped the bottles in, and zipped the bag closed, shoving my phone in my pocket.

"What are you-?" Maverick looked towards the bag and then to me and I ducked my head when I watched his expression turn from confused to dejected. "Are you leaving?"

"I-I have t-to." I stumbled around my words, trying to defend myself. I looked everywhere but him, but every time I looked at something, memories came with it, making me want to stay. Grabbing the duffle back, I picked it off the floor, swinging the strap over my body as I headed towards the door, towards Maverick.

"Faylyn." He whispered as I stopped in front of him, his body blocking the door. Tilting my head up slowly, my eyes met his. I wasn't prepared to look into to eyes, only to his hurt portraying through them. My lip quiver as I tried not to cry out. Breaking eye contact, I looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, maneuvering around him so I could leave the room. As I quickly tackled the stairs, struggling to move with the extra weight, I heard him calling my name behind me, drawing his parents attention to me.

"Faylyn?" Mrs. Somers called from the kitchen as I rushed passed the opening. I heard her drop a pan loudly into the sink and Mr. Somers pushed his chair back, the wood scraping against the floor. Maverick rushed passed me, panting as he placed his hand against the door before I could pull it open, my hand on the knob.

"P-Please." I begged him, blinking the tears from my eyes, letting them slip down my face. "I have to go."

"Honey, you don't have to go anywhere." Mrs. Somers spoke from somewhere behind me, her voice soft, tempting me to stay.

"I can't." I shook my head. "I can't."

"Faylyn." Maverick placed his hand on mine, which was still on the door knob. "You don't have to go anywhere."

"I have to go!" I cried louder yet made no move to turn the knob or pull the door open. I didn't want to.

"Why?" Maverick asked, his breath moving my hair. "Why do you have to go?"

The bag slid off my shoulder, hitting the ground hard. A choked cry left my lips and all the tears I was trying to hold back were let loose, my shoulder shaking with every sob.

Maverick stepped forward to pull me into a hug but I stepped back. Once I say what I'm about to say, he would not longer want to touch me, let alone even look at me. Things will never be the same.

The sentence tasting like bile as it left my lips, "I killed someone."