Death of a Nightingale

CHAPTER 24: TIME TO BREATHE - NESS

This entire night made me feel heavy. I pace even though there isn't much room. My attic room is small and feels more like a cage at present. Stuffy and dark. The bed in the corner immediately makes its presence known when my knee connects with the bedpost. I know it'll become a nasty bruise, but at this moment in time, I hardly notice the sting it gives me.

My head is spinning and recounts all of the crazy bits and pieces that made this night both an adventure and a nightmare.

Was it real? Any of it?

I shut my eyes, willing short breaths of air into my lungs. A flash of ice-blue eyes shoots across my vision and I almost hyperventilate. This isn't working.

I sit down on the bed and feel the comforter fabric. So soft and welcoming. I pull the thick blanket over my shoulders. Something is broken within me. Ever since the moment Grace called, it all changed irreparably.

I've never before given one of my regular callers to anyone else; especially not Emma- I know how fragile she is. I like her and care about her. I shake my head at myself. I just handed her to the new kid without a second thought. What is wrong with me? I hope she'll forgive me. I slump down a little more, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

I left. Grace showed up and I simply followed her. The guilt is overwhelming. The entire night was so exhilarating and strange that I didn't spare a single thought for my mother or Luke. I feel sick to my stomach. I love them both. They're truly warm and kind-hearted humans and I left without a care for either of them.

I feel the heavy tear building and don't stop it as it breaks from my lower lashes and carves its way across my cheek. Somewhere near my nose, it ebbs. I don't deserve them. I take another deep breath and try to shake off the self-pity, but it's not working.

The next thought is even more nauseating: Grace and I kissed... Twice.

I lick my lips as if I can still feel her on them. Her cool, soft, pillowy shape. Like a drug. A small whimper escapes my throat.

I force my eyes open again. I kissed another person. I know Luke loves me, wants to marry me and give me everything I could possibly ever want, and yet I kissed someone else. And even though Grace is dead, I can't stop thinking about her. She's dead!

That's the next thought in my mind. Accompanied by the images of her falling through the roof and her body landing far below. She was wide-eyed. Expectant and wild. Ready. The second time she embraced death with such...well...grace.

A small chuckle escapes me at the wordplay. She's dead. Heavy resolve settles within me and another tear replaces the first. I barely knew her. So why am I feeling this confusing and strange cocktail of emotions? I was happy. My life was perfect. It's better without her in it. And yet...

The next thought makes me shudder. I brought a gun home. An antique revolver. Only due to Luke's quick thinking, the police didn't see it. I'll have to thank him later if I can ever look him in the eyes again. My friends and family are patient and wonderfully tolerant, but I'll have to answer those questions sooner than later. How? Do I tell them the truth?

"Hey guys, sorry about last night. I met this vampire girl and followed her into the night. She really wanted to die, so I thought I'd help her out and give it a shot."

I snort. My sense of humor is not what it used to be; it's darkened over the past few nights.

I'm leaking tears and somehow I can't stop crying. How do I tell them anything? I can't, can I? Do I tell Luke that I kissed a stranger? He'd be heartbroken.

So many thoughts. I can't even begin to organize any of them. But I know I can't say a word. Grace is dead and I'm grieving. My heart is heavy and I have to carry that all by myself.