Ask Me Why by Harloe Rae
“The moment you stop believing is the instant everything loses meaning.” —Braelyn Miller
Braelyn
Crash
A gust of fierce wind nearly knocks me sideways, but I barely feel it. My skirt billows wildly behind me while I follow the dirt path. I try to avoid rocks and debris, but burning moisture clouds my vision. I swipe furiously at the tears that never seem to quit.
Why would they?
My body is in an utter state of misery, seeping from every pore and molecule. I’m being cracked in half by a jagged edge. Anything good is currently draining out of me. Soon there will be nothing left. But that suits me fine. I don’t want to be here without him.
The grief is all consuming, unforgiving and unrelenting. Devon’s death was a nuclear bomb. Everything has crumbled into rubble and dust. We had so many plans together, all tightly woven and tied to one another. The impossibilities scatter through the tall grass in front of me. I’ll never be whole again, just a jumble of unrecognizable pieces. There’s no me without him. But here I stand. Alone.
I twirl the ring on my finger. The significance of what could have been seems to fade without his presence. But I can’t bear to take it off. Not yet, maybe not ever. Somehow that makes all of this more permanent. I need to keep pretending for the sliver of sanity remaining.
There’s a bitter breeze coming off the lake. My hair whips around and several strands stick to my wet cheeks. I’m so cold. This chill is bone-deep, soaking into my marrow. The hole in my chest expands and I’ll never be warm again. Just like Devon, buried six feet under. They said I was lucky to survive—this type of accident is almost always fatal. The fact I’m still standing is some sort of miracle.
Why does it feel like I died with him?
I shiver when the memories crash into me. I don’t have enough energy or willpower to stop the torment from taking control. Needles prickle along my scalp, sliding down to cover my entire body. The nightmare taunts me on repeat, and I can’t escape. I’m back in our mangled car, suspended upside down. Devon is staring at me, unblinking and completely still. His eyes are frozen wide open. The deep brown color had always been vibrant and intoxicating. Now there’s no sign of life, only dull emptiness remains. I scream and yell until my throat is on fire. But no one ever hears me.
The vision vanishes with a strangled gasp. I curl my fingers until the bite of pain stings my palms. Numbness blankets me, a protective shield against the onslaught of agony. The sensation of nothingness has already replaced my heart, taken my soul. Might as well have the rest of me.
Is this my new normal?
I move toward the cliff’s edge, peering down into the calm water. The serenity waiting below is tempting me. How easy would it be to jump? Put an end to this suffering? It would only take a few measly steps. I stare at my feet and beg them to take the leap. This might be the end. I can’t live like this.
A low howl carries over the wind, and I look toward the sound. There’s a rainbow arching through the cloudy sky. My vision blurs and I swallow roughly.
“Devon, come back to me.” The impossible words tremble off my lips. He’s gone forever, but that doesn’t stop the desperation from sprouting roots. I squint and can almost picture his smile blending into the backdrop. My knees wobble. I almost collapse under the weight of it all.
How can I move on? The future seems so bleak.
With a shuddering breath I barely manage to take, my sluggish brain begins to process. It’s not my time to go. I blink slowly and shuffle away from the ledge. A hollow beat echoes through my chest. I exhale harshly, infusing my battered systems with some form of strength. For him, I’ll push forward. I’ll live for both of us.
This battle is just beginning, and tomorrow is a new day.
Braelyn
Taffy
The mug trembles in my grasp as I set it on the table. I stretch out my fingers, but the tremor remains. Ice fills my veins. I quickly glance around the crowded coffee house, finding nothing out of sorts. There’s a long line by the register and most of the seats are already occupied. But groups of people don’t bother me.
Why can’t I shake this? I rub at my numb arms, the constant chill clinging harder than usual. After three years, the dull ache in my chest is deeper than ever. I hardly notice the hollow sensation anymore. But the cruel memories strike often enough that I’ll never forget. Not that I ever could.
Those less than friendly reminders are always lurking, lodged in a hidden part I can’t reach. The visions from hours ago still hover in the forefront of my conscience. Whispers echo in my ears. I can’t take a decent breath. My eyes feel puffy and dry. I rub at them to alleviate the sting. It doesn’t help. At least the awful churning in my stomach quit.
A thick sigh eases out of me. I inhale slowly. The strong aroma of dark roast and early mornings fill my lungs. That calms my racing pulse slightly. I let my lashes flutter closed, blocking out the hustle and bustle around me. I’ve learned to deal, somewhat.
“Hey, you okay?”
I lift my gaze and meet Sadie’s worried stare. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
She reaches for my hand. “You don’t have to pretend, honey. Not with me.”
My heart pounds a steady rhythm as I find comfort in her genuine expression. I scratch my temple and dig for an explanation. Too bad the caffeine hasn’t kicked in.