Chemical Attraction (Student/Teacher Relationship)

Chemical Attraction Chapter 26

Sorry for such a late upload. Some of you may have realised that I temporarily deleted parts of my story, which was due to a breach in copyright. That really upset me and I was thinking of removing it all, but thankfully I was persuaded not to. The whole story is back up now. This chapter was meant to be longer but it was taking ages to get the wording for the next part to sound right, and it's crucial that it does, so I just decided to cut it off and work on the next part tomorrow when I'm not so tired, since I promised an upload today and it's still a decent length :) Votes and comments appreciated :)

PS. Do you prefer the current pink cover or the blue cover uploaded on the side? Let me know, thanks! I'll use the one the majority prefer :)

Chapter 26

The rain beat hard against the window of the bus with a thundering clatter. Sighing softly, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching as the blurry outlines of the trees flickered past. My breath slowly fogged up the glass and I absentmindedly traced doodles onto the window. The bus suddenly hit the brakes and jolted violently, and I narrowly avoided smacking my head into the window pane. 

With a high-pitched squeal, the bus pulled in to a bus stop and the doors opened with a hiss. An elderly woman stepped slowly onto the bus, swiftly followed by an icy wind, causing my body to shiver and goose-bumps to erupt on my arms and legs. I wrapped my arms tightly around me in an attempt to combat the cold as the bus rumbled back to life with heavy vibrations. The tip-tap of a cane sounded as the old woman made her way to a seat. I leant back on my chair and stifled a yawn. I was exhausted.

The journey had been a long one which I’d started in the early hours of the morning, before anyone else had stirred, teachers or students. It had been fairly simple catching a local bus to the nearby train station, which had then taken me into London. I’d picked at a croissant for breakfast in London Victoria, not feeling particularly hungry, before taking the train to Horley, my old local town. As I’d stepped off the train, memories had overwhelmed me and my eyes had blurred with tears. I’d gone to school for twelve years in this little town, and I knew it like the back of my hand. I hadn’t realised quite how much I’d missed it. I’d sat at the bus stop, my eyes closed, visualising my cherished childhood moments. All those games of hopscotch with my friends, all those country walks with my parents. Gone. A few drops of rain had begun to fall, splashing onto the roof of the shelter with a pattering sound. The bus had arrived, creating a fine spray of rain that had soaked my ankles, and I’d quickly jumped in, change ready in hand, grateful for its warmth.

I peered outwards again from my window seat. The rain had eased off very slightly so I could see a little better, and I knew my stop must be soon. A familiar landmark flickered past and I quickly pressed the stop button, the ding echoing through the bus. A few moments later, the bus slowed down, pulling into the nearby stop and I clambered out of my seat towards the door.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, reluctantly leaving the bus, my hood pulled up to try and shelter my face.

“Take care, love,” called the bus driver, before driving away.

Squinting slightly, I checked both ways before crossing the lane and opening an old wooden gate, rotted with age. It creaked gently as I entered, my feet crunching slightly on the gravelly path. Even in the cold, my palms began to sweat as I took in the old village church, with its beautiful arcing windows and castellated bell tower, and the gravestones scattered around it, both old and new. My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes began to burn. I blinked furiously. I couldn’t tell whether the wetness on my cheeks was from the rain or my tears. I guessed both.

Slowly, without thinking, I walked down the path and onto the grass, the location seared into my memory. I’d asked for that spot specially, towards the edge of the graveyard, near an ancient oak, its bark wrinkled and knobbly. My heart felt strange to me, beating an irregular rhythm, and my chest burnt hot with grief. I could see it up ahead – a double gravestone of smooth white granite, with the earth in front slightly raised in two small, grassy mounds. I stopped dead, my jaw clenched as bitterness welled up inside me. Seeing their graves was like a fresh punch in my gut. Even after more than a month, I still found it hard to believe that they were never coming back.

Step by tiny step, I inched closer, until I could at last read the writing engraved on the stone. My eyes flickered automatically to the right-hand side and I reached my hand out to trace the words as I read.

                                            In loving memory of
                                           CATHERINE MILLER

                                          Born 18th October 1963
                                           Died 6th January 2010                                                                

                                         Devoted wife and mother
                                   Sorely missed by her daughter

                                                Rest In Peace

I swallowed heavily against the lump in my throat and gave a strangled croak. Trembling slightly, I knelt down by her grave, ignoring the cold wetness spreading across my knees from the grass.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mum,” I whispered softly, my eyes once again brimming with tears. 

The drops of rain stung my face as the wind picked up, a sharp stabbing pain, accompanied by a much deeper agony, a wound that would never heal. My mother was gone and my life felt empty. Meaningless. How could love be everlasting when everyone died? Why did anything else matter apart from this awful hollowness of this truth? Life was so fleeting, so fragile… I envisioned her broken body laid out beneath me and squeezed my eyes shut in horror. Was she even recognisable? How long did it take for a body to decompose? The thought of her rotting corpse made my stomach churn and my chest heave with nausea. I couldn’t think about that. I just couldn’t. 

“It’s not her anymore,” I told myself firmly, my voice breaking slightly. “It’s just flesh and bones down there. But she’s out here somewhere… She has to be.”

My eyes looked up and scanned the graveyard. Even surrounded by so much death, it was beautiful. The grass was scattered with daffodils and bluebells peaked out from beneath the oak tree. For a brief second, I felt as though my perspective had shifted slightly and a strange calm descended upon me. A car door slammed in the distance, and the moment broke. I sighed softly, my gaze once again settling on her grave.

“I miss you so much, Mum,” I spoke softly. “I think about you every day, all day. But it hurts so much…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “I want to move on and forget about you, and Dad and Jamie too, so that it doesn’t hurt so much, but I know if I ever do, I’d never forgive myself. Moving on just seems impossible to me right now.”

I lapsed into silence again, at loss for words. But I knew deep down, that my mum could understand what my words just couldn’t express. She always could. I smiled sadly as I remembered her quiet empathy, and her sweet, understanding smile. The way her eyes had sparkled when she laughed, and the warmth of her embrace. But I also remembered the anger that flashed across her face when we had fought, and her look of hurt as I shouted words that I didn’t mean, and would never mean. It had been so easy to take her for granted, shamefully easy. I regretted that bitterly. Almost as much as I regretted entering the music competition.

“I’m sorry for everything, Mum.” I cried. “It was all my fault.”

I dissolved into tears, proper soul-wrenching sobs that were the only way I could express such deep, profound sorrow. I cried for them all- my mum, my dad, and my little brother Jamie. My breathing grew ragged and strained and I clutched my sides in a futile attempt to hold myself together. Rocking back and forth on my ankles, I mumbled in between sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…”

I didn’t hear him approach. Didn’t dream he would be here. His gentle voice calling my name jolted me with shock, and my head whipped around as I stared wide-eyed at his figure.

His eyes held mine with a piercing state, dark, deep and immeasurably sad. His curls were flattened and darkened by the rain, drips falling into his face. My heart thumped unevenly, blood rushed to my head and I swayed slightly in disbelief.

“Jared?”