5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
“M J?” My dad’s voice startled me from the daze that I’d found myself in for the past twelve hours. Darkness followed as I rolled over to face him.
Walking toward me, Dad took a seat on the hospital bed. “Honey, I’m not going to tell you that this won’t be the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but I will tell you that your mom and I will be right next to you the entire time, no matter what.”
I sat up and rested my head on his shoulder. My eyelids were stiff and swollen from the constant flow of tears that’d made permanent paths down my cheeks. My feet dangled above the ground, one normal and one in a rather large cast. My toes grazed the cold linoleum floor, immediately sending a shiver down my spine.
“I want to go home,” I said.
Without another word, he stood and reached out for my hand, helping me into the wheelchair that’d been placed next to the bed. Mom put the last of my things into a bag she must’ve brought from home and appeared at my side.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
Wheeling through the hospital, it was as if we were moving in slow motion while everything around us had been put in fast-forward. The nurses and doctors were blurry as they moved past us and down the hallway. We made our way to the front of the hospital only to see that it was a complete downpour.
Figures.
“Stay here, I’ll go grab the car,” Dad said.
Stationed in a rickety metal wheelchair, I found myself looking around and wondering what news each of these people would receive today. Would they be lucky and walk out of this place with their loved ones, or were they like me, leaving with a piece of themselves missing? The thought made me shudder. I gripped Mom’s hand that was resting on my shoulder.
“You’re going to be okay, MJ. I promise,” she said. Her voice was far more confident than how I felt. “The hours will be brutal and the days will be dark, then slowly but surely, little slivers of light will sprinkle in, until one day you’ll look in the mirror and see yourself again. It might take months or even years, and it won’t ever fully go away, but it will become manageable. The darkness will no longer consume you. Instead, it will show up in song lyrics, or familiar scents, maybe even in a picture, but the light will eventually be brighter, and it will overcome all of this darkness,” she said, and her words felt hopeful, even if only a little.
I squeezed her hand. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Miller Morgan?” a man’s voice called out from behind us.
Mom and I turned.
“I’m Chief Williams, I—”
“I remember you,” I said softly.
He stood, towering over Mom and me in his navy firefighter uniform. His white hair was tight to his head and the wrinkles on his face depicted a much older man than the one I’d pictured the night of the accident.
“I was told you were getting released today and I just wanted to stop in and check on you.” He smiled empathetically. “And whenever you’re feeling up for it, I’d love to take you to lunch.”
I nodded.
Words were too tough.
Mom chimed in: “Thank you, Chief Williams, we’ll truly never be able to repay you.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s why I do what I do,” he said. “And Miller, I’m serious. When you’re ready, lunch is on me.”
Dad’s black truck rumbled through the circle drive and Mom wheeled me closer toward the entrance. As we neared the doors, they slid open and a breeze of cooler than normal air rushed across my entire body. The smell of rain overtook my senses and flooded my nostrils.
I hadn’t been outside since the accident, which at this point was only a little over seventy-two hours ago but felt like it had been years. The outside air didn’t feel the same to me. Something was different, or rather, I was different .
An obnoxious lady in a white minivan laid on her horn and aggressively shook me back to reality. I slowly stood from the wheelchair and hobbled toward the truck on my crutches. With Mom’s help, I made my way into the back seat.
The drive home from the hospital was every bit silent. It was obvious that Dad was going out of his way to bypass any street that was even remotely close to the scene of the accident, which I appreciated.
“MJ, are you hungry?” Mom asked as we pulled into our driveway. “I could make you a PB&H, if you’d like?”
Peanut butter and honey sandwiches had always been our favorite lunch choice.
Had.
That short little word brought such big, final feelings now.
“I’m all right, Mom. I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit, but thank you. I love you.”
Dragging myself from the back seat, I forced my head down as the tears fought their way to the surface.
I took the stairs up to my room, one by one, each step bringing my body closer to crumbling. I barely made it to bed before my hobble faltered and I collapsed onto my back. A room that was once my safe haven now felt foreign. Nothing felt like mine anymore, and so far, nothing brought me comfort except the thought of closing my eyes.
The next few days were all the same. I spent the days sleeping and the nights trying to sleep. The only way to avoid the pain was to be unconscious. When I was awake, every little thing reminded me of her, and that was simply too much.
She was everywhere.
She was the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, she was the red lipstick kiss marks on the mirror in the corner of my room, she was the boy-band posters that still hung on the wall. Everywhere I looked, there she was.
Sleeping was the only valid option at this point.
Mom and Dad checked on me frequently, but they both knew that I needed my space.
Mornings turned into days, days into nights, and then started over again. I had no concept of time, everything blending together, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure how life seemed to be moving around me when everything within my line of sight seemed to stand still.
That is, until I was woken up by the sharpness of the sun beaming in from the window. I swore I’d shut those damn curtains last night.
It took me a second to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but once I did, I was able to make out my mom at the end of my bed. She held a black dress in one hand and a pair of black heels in the other.
“Honey, we need to leave in about thirty minutes.” Her somber voice left me feeling sick. The black long-sleeved dress she wore seemed to drain the color from her face. She was barely wearing any makeup, and I was sure that was intentional. Tears always came fast for Mom, and I knew she wanted to prepare herself for the abundance of them that would fall today.
I rose from my bed and slowly hopped in her direction. Grabbing the dress from her hands, her arms embraced me as she whispered in my ear, “This is going to be one of the hardest moments of your entire life. I’m so sorry that you have to experience this at such a young age. If I could take your pain, I would do it in a heartbeat. Remember those slivers of light I talked about at the hospital. Look for those today. They’ll be almost impossible to find, but when you do, the darkness won’t seem as scary.”
The softness of her voice almost masked the emotion that suffocated her words. I pulled from her embrace and stared into her eyes, and for a moment, a simple split second, I was okay.
“I love you big, Mom.”
“I love you bigger, MJ.” She nodded and gave me a small smile. “And, honey? Chief Williams dropped off a bag of stuff collected from Liv’s car, said the police were done with it.” She motioned toward my desk. “I don’t know what’s inside, but Jess told him she wanted you to have it. I just thought you’d want to know.” Her voice was soft when she added, “We’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
Part of me wanted to look in the bag, but I needed to get dressed first because I was afraid if I didn’t, I never would.
Struggling into my black dress, I peered at the heels my mom picked out for me. Shaking my head, I made my way to the closet and opted for my favorite sneakers, or rather one of my favorite sneakers for my good leg. As I stood in front of the mirror, I couldn’t help but think that the girl staring back at me wasn’t someone I recognized.
Who was I without Liv?
“Liv, how the fuck am I supposed to do this?” The words left my mouth, and I couldn’t help but gasp. I turned, sucking in a gust of air as the tears plummeted down my face. I shifted my weight to the other crutch and pushed my back against the mirror, slowly lowering my body to the ground. I was afraid if I moved too quickly, I might actually break.
Mentally, I knew I needed to at least attempt to pull it together. As I raised my head, the bag Mom had previously mentioned caught my eye across the room. Something purple peeked out from underneath the canvas bag.
I stood and made my way to the desk, but I already knew what it was.
Dead hydrangeas. Liv’s dead hydrangeas.
The ones that had been in her car the night of the accident.
Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean they’ve lost their beauty or their purpose . Liv’s words were as clear as if she were standing right behind me, speaking them.
Somehow, she was gone, and yet she was still giving me the strength I needed to keep going.
Grabbing the flowers, I made my way downstairs.
“Dad’s already in the car, are you ready?” Mom asked.
“As ready as one can be to go bury their best friend.”
Hobbling past Mom, I caught a whiff of her perfume, musty but feminine. With the rush of fragrance came the most vivid memory forcing me to slam my eyes shut. Here comes that darkness .
“Find the sliver,” I muttered under my breath.
“Huh?” Mom asked.
“Nothing, just looking for a sliver.”
“Keep looking.”
And just like that, I was thirteen again, sneaking into my parents’ room, Liv in tow, to borrow Mom’s makeup and a little perfume before we made our way to our first boy-girl party. Liv had accidentally squirted one too many puffs of perfume and suddenly we were swimming in the scent. I couldn’t get that smell out of my nose for weeks.
“—the flowers?” I missed the beginning of her question, but I assumed Mom was asking me why I had them.
“From her car. Hydrangeas. Her favorite,” I said, each word choppier than the last as I did my best to keep my composure while sliding into the car.
The ride was nothing but deafening silence, although I didn’t think I would’ve wanted it any other way. We were all still trying to work through the emotions and wrap our brains around the reality of our situation.
I hadn’t been part of the funeral planning process, and thankfully so, but I didn’t have to be involved to know that the funeral was going to be held at the beach. I guess I just didn’t expect the beach to be the same one Olivia and I had run to after the cops busted Caleb’s party.
Pulling into the parking lot, a sea of black nearly drowned out the sandy beach that lay in front of us. All of the darkness seemed to disguise the beauty that Liv and I had admired only a week ago. The car came to an abrupt halt as Dad pulled into the parking spot, and I lowered my head and gripped the stem of the dead flowers until the imperfections left indentions in my palms.
“I just want you both to know that I love you very much, and while I know this is going to be one of the hardest moments of our lives, you’re doing this for Olivia. Remember that.” The strength in Dad’s voice was something I hadn’t heard from him since everything happened, and I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.
I grasped onto his words, holding them tightly and committing them to memory so I could revisit them throughout the day, because I knew I’d need them more than just right now.
Lifting my head, my eyes met his in the rearview mirror. My muted “I love you” was met with a nod before he unlatched his door and stepped out. I took three big breaths, each one feeling a little deeper in my chest, and released them before pulling myself out of the car and walking toward my best friend’s funeral.