On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Fifty - "Goodbye"

Chloe

 

The tears rolled down my cheeks as I listened to Sarah, my heart breaking for the hundredth time that night.

I was more than ready to wake up now, but I had no idea how.

*

Somehow, even with the sun still up, the river looked dark and eerie through my eyes.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” I asked her.

She sighed, “Probably.”

My voice got caught in my throat, and I held my hand over my mouth.

I straightened up, “They’ll be okay. It’ll take a while, but they’ll be okay. They won’t . . . I won’t cause any havoc in their lives anymore. They’ll feel better eventually,” I said, trying to convince myself.

“It’s okay to freak out, you know.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“That’s my point; it’s okay if you want to.”

“Are you some sort of conscience?” I asked suddenly.

She smiled, “Back to the questions, are we?”

“I’m going to die. It’s only fair that I know before I do.”

She nodded slowly, “No, I’m not your conscience. You know who I am; you just  . . . you don’t really see it.”

I frowned, “How much time do I have left?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. You could wake up.”

“At least I got to have it. At least I fell in love, and I met my mom,” my voice broke, “I met Jay! And perfectly perfect Jake. I made some amazing friends, and . . . I got to have the kind of life I could only ever have dreamed of. So, that’s okay.”

She sighed exasperated.

“What?” I asked.

“You are probably going to die. You are going to just be gone. You will leave your family behind, and they’ll be miserable. What about that is okay?” she snapped, getting up.

I sighed.

Nothing. Nothing was okay.

*

I sat on the couch next to Jay, as he sat still, staring at me, on the bed, still, cold, lifeless.

“How are you doing?” I asked, staring at his expression for some sort of clue.

Before I could get anything from it, I heard a soft thump as something dropped to the ground.

Trey.

He was standing in the doorway, a duffel bag on the floor next to him.

It all slowly came back. The memories.

I smiled as I saw him standing there, but it completely disappeared as I saw the state he was in. He looked drunk, he had bags under his eyes, and his facial hair seemed to have grown so messily, making him look a little like a hobo.