Dr. Levitt peered down at me, sitting small on the faux leather coach in her office. She was waiting for me to answer. Do you still think about suicide? She had asked, hoping to hear a quick No, not at all. Well, I did. I wasn’t too sure if I should tell her that, of all people.
I shook my head. “No. I think the medication is working.” I smiled at her, my muscles feeling tight.
If there was anything that I had learned lately was that lying was better in these kinds of situations. Dr. Levitt scribbled something down quickly on her legal pad. She looked up at me again.
“Are you lying, Adrianna?”
I shook my head. “No,”
“Adrianna I’m here to help you, you know that right?”
“Of course I do.” I shifted in my seat.
With a heavy sigh, Dr. Levitt dismissed the session. “I think that’s enough for today, don’t you agree?”
I nodded; relieved I could get out of there. Grabbing my purse I made my way outside, exiting from the door that led to the parking lot right behind Dr. Levitt’s practice. The North Carolina sky was turning a dark blue hue, random stars sprinkling its surface. Always at night, I thought, they always schedule my appointments at night.
A black Mercedes pulled up in front of me. I walked toward the passenger side door and opened it. My grandfather smiled at me.
“How did it go?”
I gave him the same smile I gave Dr. Levitt. Fake. “Everything went great. I really think the medicine is working.” I even made my tone sound happy.
My grandfather hit the steering wheel, a big smile stretching his worn face. “Oh that’s great! I am so glad that you’re getting better.”
I tuned him out after that. I wasn’t interested about the city’s politics. I didn’t care what the local newspaper’s poll had publicized about his chances of winning mayor. I just didn’t care. I hated this town. I hated living with him and my grandmother. It was suffocating.
The doctor was explaining to my parents how to take care of my injuries. I could care less about my injuries. I just wanted to get the hell out of this hospital room. It had been weeks since I had been admitted under critical condition. Now I was leaving with a broken arm.
“Blake are you ready?” My dad’s voice broke through my thoughts. I blinked up at his face. I was lying on my hospital bed, because after all it was mine. I had been plastered there for two weeks. I faintly nodded. I was wearing a pair of pants that were too small for me and a shirt that I had been planning to throw out before the accident. Damn, my parents sure do know me, I thought bitterly.
Dr. Peters smiled at me. “Come on champ; let’s get you out into the real world again.” That’s what he called me, champ. He said it was because I had beaten the odds. I secretly wondered if he was calling himself that since he was the one that performed the surgery that saved my life.
I grabbed my sweater and lowered myself into the wheel chair they had ordered for me. I had to be wheeled out of here, and in all honesty I didn’t mind. I was too exhausted to bring myself across the hall to the elevator and then to the parking lot. That was too much work. My body was still accustomed to lying down, only moving when necessary. Going home was an unnecessary movement i guess.
As I was wheeled out nurses waved their goodbyes, some actually getting teary eyed. I was one of their favorites they had told me a couple times, since I wasn’t much of a complainer. I wondered how many of them actually believed the stories they read in the papers.
That had been the worst part of the whole thing. Seeing yourself mentioned in the paper even though they didn’t actually put your name. I was a minor, they couldn’t do that. But still you knew it was you because you had been there. Watched her fall and, thinking you could have saved her; you had lunged after her only to fall along her side.
I shivered as I got my first full breath of fresh air. The North Carolina sky was dark, the waxing gibbous moon glowing. Stars were everywhere. They looked so different when they weren’t behind an opaque window.
“Well Blake I will see you when you come back to take that cast off.” Dr. Peter’s extended his hand to me. I grasped it strong, trying to show him how much I owed him. Knowingly he nodded. “You take care of yourself.”
I nodded. “I will.” I would have made a joke about no more cliff diving but my parents wouldn’t have taken it was good heartedly as the doc would. I got up from the wheel chair stretching my limbs. Even walking seemed different.
“Come on B, the cars this way.” It had been the first time my mom had talked during the whole hospital departure. She wrapped her arm around my waist. With my good arm around her shoulder, I let her guide me to the black Lexus. It looked like a treasure before my eyes. I waited eagerly to get in and sit in the smooth leather seats. Everything was different, yet so similar that it was driving me insane. I never would have thought that my parent’s car would bring me so much joy and so much fear.
Going back home was the only part of the whole aftermath that both thrilled me and scared me. Everything had been had either been black or white. But this was a very gray area. It meant being where I was comfortable, but where I could be targeted. I’d have to see everyone’s face. I would assume that everyone thought I was guilty. That it hadn’t been an accident like the police had determined.
While I had been in the hospital, there had been a wake and a funeral, neither of which I had attended because of my injuries. Not that I would have wanted to go. Plus I’m sure her parents wouldn’t have wanted me there. I was alive and Claire wasn’t. I had been the only one there. No one knew the story, I did. Everyone believed the stories that had been stretched far from the truth.
There were times when everything seemed like a dream. No, she wasn’t died and I wasn’t in the hospital with a broken arm and stiches across my stomach. My parents didn’t look at me at times like I was a murderer and my little sister wasn’t scared of me. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom attached to my hospital room and yell at myself for not catching her, or for falling with her.
At the beginning everyone thought it was suicide. It wasn’t. We were doing great. It was just a big accident that should have never happened. We were reckless. She wasn’t acting like herself and neither was I.
“So Blake, your mother and I were thinking that maybe we could have a get together with the Moore’s in a couple of days, you know, after you’re settled.”
That was the last thing I wanted and I hated my parents for ever thinking I would be okay with that. The Moore’s were nothing special to me. They were just an old couple that had helped my parents when they had moved to Cary. I had heard that Mr. Moore was running for mayor. I hadn’t cared about it when it was told to me and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear about all the politics in town during dinner. But for some reason I found myself agreeing to the arrangement.
“Oh look, Walter, there’s Richard. Let’s pull over to make arrangements.”
“Barbra maybe should just call. Let’s get Blake home first.”
“Why if we’re here we might as well.” My mother insisted.
My father quickly took his next left, pulling into the court house parking lot. He pulled up alongside Mr. Moore’s car.
The driver side door opened and Mr. Moore walked out in his signature tailored gray suit. My father and mother hopped out of the car and greeted him. I had no desire of leaving where I was. It was their get together. I would just have to live through it.
Suddenly the passenger side door of the black Mercedes opened and a girl about my age walked out. Her auburn brown hair shone as she walked by the front of my parent’s car, toward the group of adults. She pulled the sleeves of her navy and white striped sweater, hugging herself against a sudden gust of wind.
My mother embraced her in a fierce hug and I watched as my father politely shook her hand. She seemed out of place. She seemed like she didn’t want to be there. She looked down at the ground after introductions were made and didn’t look up again until my mother pointed to our car. I guess that was my cue.
With lazy feet I walked out of the car, just as two cars almost crashed into each other on the busy street behind us.
“How’s Blake doing?” My grandfather had asked compassionately. I had no idea who Blake was, but something about the way my grandfather said it seemed forced. No one else seemed to notice.
Mrs. Reed’s face beamed as she pointed inside the car her and her husband had stepped out of moments ago. “He’s in the car. He was released today finally.” Released?
Before I could ask who they were talking about a kid around my age stepped out of the car. The first thing I noticed was the fact that his clothes didn’t fit him properly and he had a cast around his right arm. His pants obviously weren’t his size and his shirt looked distressed. I can’t remember what the second thing was. Maybe it was the look of surprised on his face when he heard the honking of two cars that almost crashed on the road behind us.
We all involuntarily took a step closer to the court house, just so that we could be a bit closer if disaster were to strike. But it was basically impossible for the cars to hit us. We were too far. We all watched in horror as the two cars skidded around each other, just barely missing. How the accident started, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. But it could have gotten pretty ugly.
The drivers didn’t even stop they just kept going like nothing happened. When I looked back at our group everyone was staring at the near accident, except for Blake. He was staring at the moon. Slowly, he scanned the sky as if looking for something. His face was brightened by the moon’s glow. I could hear his parents and my grandfather talking but I could only pay attention to him. His eyes lingered on the moon for a second more before resting upon me. I couldn’t look away. He smiled and I noticed that his eyes were dull; they had no emotion, no life.
I saw him cock his head to the side as if confused. I kept my eyes on his, unable to look away. There was something in his eyes. Something that told me he would be my own disaster.
I don’t believe in destiny or fate, but when I saw that girl looking at me, something clicked. It was like she could sense something was wrong with me. I don’t think she noticed, but as she looked at me, a small frown formed at her lips. I looked at her looking at me and for some reason I had this feeling. This feeling that she would destroy me and without realizing it I sent a silent prayer up to Claire.
