"I may have saved her from the monsters that crawl through the dark, but she saved me from the worst monster of all. She rescued me from who I would have become without her, the monster that would have easily conquered my body."
* * *
Reese Chambler...
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THERE HAS ONLY been one other time in my life when I was able to share a sunrise with someone else.
One morning, long ago, I took Meghan to the window in our living room when it was still dark. She stayed awake long enough to see the first golden rays strike across the blushing cheek of the sky before she fell asleep leaning on my shoulder. I was left to watch the heavens shift from pink to a light blue alone, but having Meghan's hand to hold made it less lonely, less empty.
I curl my fingers, feeling the ghost of her skin still touching mine. MJ sits a small distance away, her skinny arm reaching across the space between the two rocking chairs. Her eyes flutter closed every once in a while, but she jolts awake again every time her head rolls backwards. Carl hugs her closer to him, and hums along to the sound of the breeze through the dead leaves. It sounds like a lullaby.
For a few endless moments, I close my exhausted eyes and take in all the life around me. The soft touch of MJ's little hand, the breeze biting at the tips of my ears, the smell of static in the air coming from the dark clouds bubbling up from the horizon. From between my parted lips, I sharply take in the crisp air. The moisture clinging to my bandana cools and cracks against my skin in a painfully calm way.
MJ's limbs begin to slump as she dips into sleep once again. The palm of my right hand goes cold as little MJ's hand falls limp and slips away. A warmth slices across my hand and replaces the sudden frigid emptiness. I feel long, slender fingers slip in the cracks formed between mine, and the gentle encasement of my hand.
The rising sun beams at me, flowing out from under the deep blue of the night and into my chest. I can sense the light raising up in my ribcage, thumping through my heart and surging through my veins. I feel pink, as innocent and fresh as the newly tinted sky. But all too soon, the thumping in my chest gets harder, heavier. It grows almost unbearable. My eyes flick from the vibrant, cloud-streaked sky down to the dark earth. Staining the street is the blood of a man we all once knew. The dark, glistening liquid fades out in different directions from when a lady down the street tried to sweep away the remains. My chest falls. There is no room in this world to feel so uplifted, not when everything is trying to drag you down.
"I know I owe you an explanation," Carl says, breaking the tranquility of the dawn. His thumb bumps up and down as it runs over the chapped knuckles of my index finger.
"You don't owe me anything, Carl," I whisper my response, not wanting to scare away the last shred of peace harbored in my chest. We sit quietly once again, letting the delicate sounds of the morning engulf us. Birds slowly and quietly begin to chirp, singing their praises to the sky.
"I... There has been too much... I don't... I don't know how to to deal with it all," Carl stumbles as he searches for the right words. His head is tilted back, resting against the headpiece of the wooden rocking chair. He seems to be talking more to the sky rather than to me. His eye reflects the pink light, almost glowing in reply to the shimmering beams of pale sunlight. I allow my gaze to linger on his beauty, feeling too weak or too tired to wage another mental war with myself. Carl takes a deep breath.
