2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Faith
T he long, baring sound of a car horn jolts me from the darkness. My head throbs as I struggle to orient myself. My hand comes away wet and sticky when I brush my hair from my face. When I look down at my hands, they're stained with blood, but surely it can't be mine. Can it?
Lifting my head, which feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, I barely make out the faint light of the streetlamps. Panic sets in as I spot Derek, unconscious and still, with drops of blood on the airbag in front of him.
I pull myself forward, only to be brought back by my seatbelt, which stings as it tightens around me. My bloody hands fumble to free myself, but once I do, Chelsea starts to stir.
"Derek?" she says, her hand slowly reaching towards him before falling limp on his lap.
"Chelsea," I say as I try scooting closer to her, my heart sinking as I see the horrifying scene.
There's no airbag deployed on her side. There's only blood splattered across her side of the windshield and passenger side window. Half her face is covered in crimson from the horrifying, gruesome dent in the side of her head.
"Oh, my god," I gasp because I can't muster a scream. All I can do is look in horror from the back seat.
"Faith?" she whispers, barely audible.
"I'm here," I say, reaching for her hand. "I'm right here."
"Promise… me…" she says, struggling to meet my eyes.
"What? Promise what?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"To keep him," she says. "I trust you… to keep him… take care of him."
"Just hold on, okay?" I say as the sound of sirens fills the air. "We're going to get help soon."
"Promise me," she repeats, her voice weakening. It's only when I look back at Derek that I understand.
"I promise I'll take care of him, I promise Chelsea," I tell her, tears streaming down my face.
"Thank you Fai…," she whispers before her eyes fall shut on her fiancé, and her last breath is breathed.
I held out hope when the paramedics arrived, but the rest of the night became a hazy, nightmarish blur. Maybe it's for the best. When I finally woke up the next day, the sterile light of the hospital room felt surreal. As I lie there in a hospital bed, I read off a list of injuries that litter my body. Bruised ribs, although they might as well be broken judging by how awful they feel, a concussion accompanied by the stitches along my forehead, and a haphazard collection of bruises throughout the rest of my body. None of it makes sense. The physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional agony. How did we end up here? How did everything go so horribly wrong?
Before I can process my state, I ask one of the nurses about Chelsea and how she's holding up.
"I'm sorry," the nurse says, gently putting her hand over mine. "I'm afraid she didn't make it." The weight of Chelsea's last moments presses down on me, suffocating and inescapable.
I know I heard her last breath; I didn't want to believe it was the last one. I should be blubbering with tears, but instead, I'm numb. The image of Chelsea flashes to the front of my mind, her bloodstained, bashed in my head, making it the last memory I'll ever have of her. Not only that, but I also have to remember her longer than I've known her. It doesn't feel real. None of it does. I keep waiting for her to walk in as I get dressed in a pair of scrubs donated by the hospital, but no such thing happens. Instead, I sign my discharge papers, call my mom to pick me up, and wait while reality tries to set in.
I'm released along with Derek, who also has a concussion with his fair share of bruises. He dawns a pair of blue scrubs himself, but his face is locked in a harsh glare, his jaw set tight in his pain. I try to hug him shortly after we learn the news of Chelsea's passing, but he takes a step back before I can get close enough.
"I… Derek, I'm so sorry," I say. "I can't believe she's gone."
My condolences are only met with silence as we wait for his brother to pick him up while I wait for my mom.
My thoughts are frozen yet twirling around in my mind hearing Chelsea’s voice in the back of my head “take care of him.”
"I know you may not be thinking of food right now, but maybe I can order dinner for us?" I offer, but he just shakes his head.
"Are you serious right now? Do you hear yourself? Forget it. Find your own place to stay," he says, his words cutting through me like a knife.
"Wh- what?" I stammer.
"The only reason we were out driving last night was because of you," he snaps. “If you would have left Ryan months ago before like we urged you this is not where we would be standing today.”
"Are you blaming me for Chelsea's death?" My jaw nearly drops when he nods his head, rubbing his jaw line firmly bringing his eyes up from the ground staring directly into mine.
"YES, YES I am Faith its partly your fault," he admits. "The driver who hit us was drunk, so he'll have jail time to keep him away, but as far as I'm concerned, Chelsea would be alive if it weren't for you."
"This is in no way my fault," I snap back. "I'm not the one who was drunk behind the wheel. I wasn't responsible for the airbag not going off. And last I checked, no one made you come get me. You chose to help get me away from Ryan."
"Yeah, and look where it got us," he snarls as his brother and my mom walk into the waiting room. His eyes burn with anger and resentment. "We are done, there is nothing connecting us or between us. Don't you ever speak to me again, understand? This is your fault. My fiancé is dead because of you, I'll never forgive you for it." Tears formed in Derek’s eyes but the rage blaring from them dried them up quick.
“Derek – STOP” I scream out in frustration. “I’m just as numb as you are, I don’t know how to process this, I don’t know what to say or feel, please understand.”
"Woah, what's going on?" Derek's brother, Tyler, says, stepping between the two of us.
But Derek turned his back and smacked open the hospital doors, making those his last words to me.
"You should take him home," I manage to say to Tyler, my voice cracking. Thankfully, he doesn't argue.
Only when I'm cocooned in the safety of Mom's car, with her comforting presence beside me, do the tears finally break free. They pour out for Chelsea, for the irreplaceable best friend I'll never have again. They pour out for Derek, for the unbearable loss of the love of his life. But most of all, they pour out for the guilt that's gnawing at me, growing sharper each time Derek's cold words echo in my mind. Did I do enough? Could I have changed anything? The questions torment me, twisting the knife deeper into my heart.