95:A Promise Kept

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  • Dedicated to Hannah, Lydia, Sarah, Ashlynne, and Robin--who needed a happy ending ;)
                                    

Marley Faulkner

In…out…in…out…

Marley’s breath is even and her heart beats steadily. She feels calm, and stays very still. Below her she feels cold, hard floor, and she lies there for several minutes, eyes closed, just breathing.

I did it, Jack. I think I really did it.

Screams cut through the spacious room around her but she doesn’t even flinch. They’ll be all right, all of them. She feels several swift, teenage legs move past her, running towards friends and hope ,maybe, or perhaps away from it. She hears the sound of sobs echo throughout the room like an with the power of a drum. She hears names being shouted, and she hears the sounds of several embraces. In her pocket, she feels something hard and solid. Another necklace—blue and heart shaped. Marley almost laughs. The Heart of the Ocean. It was hers all along.

She takes in a deep breath and presses her lips together. She would lie there on the ground forever if she could, not ever having to move another muscle again. How easy that would be, to give up like that. How simple.

But she’s got promises to keep.

Marley counts to four—four days on Titanic, three of the best days of her life, two of remembering, one of forgetting—opens her eyes, and sits up. White, artificial light hits her like a gunshot wound. It’s everywhere, and for moments she can hardly see. She brings a hand above her eyes and squints. In…out…she sits on the stage floor of her school theater, then wraps her arms around herself like a lonely hug. The auditorium is full of at least fifty teens. Some panic, some yelp for joy, some sob in emotions Marley can’t quite make out.

She stands up, feeling very ghostly, and not one person in the room seems to acknowledge her. As she drifts down the stage through the isle  towards the door, it’s as if she doesn’t even exist.

Next she’ll probably walk home mindlessly, letting her feet do all the work. If time hasn’t passed, P.J. will still be at school and Uncle Brock at work.

Uncle Brock.

Marley will have to give him her diamond necklace when she sees him next.

She knows it’s what he’s been looking for.

What everyone has been looking for.

Marley will go into the kitchen, breathing dead, familiar air, and she’ll probably make herself a cup of tea. She’ll sit at the large kitchen counter as the water begins to boil, staring mindlessly at the phone and knowing that she should call Louise. But what would she say? How would she say it? It would be just these questions and more that could keep her sitting there for hours, the phone untouched.

Truth be told, Marley isn’t sure of what to do next. She isn’t even sure of what there is left to do.

She reaches the large black doors, with a neon sign marked ‘exit’ above them, and she places her fingers on the metal handles. Her eyes feel so tired, so drained. It would be so easy for her to just crawl straight into her bed and sleep for the next fifty years. Two hundred, maybe. She opens the door.

“Marley!”

She stops, the handle still in her tight grasp. She squeezes it so hard, until her knuckles turn white. Her ribs ache. Her chest tighten. It’s like it knows, even before she does.

“Marley!” There it is again, as clear as a bell. It rings throughout the auditorium like a melody from heaven. Her breath stops short. Her eyes glisten. But she doesn’t turn around. She won’t do it—she can’t, because she’s afraid of the nothingness, the disappointment that she might find.

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