They keep telling me that I should just let her go, let that night rest and move on with my life.
They don't realise that I still wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing for Chance and sobbing for myself and sobbing for the fucked-up world with...
Against my will, I wound up dreaming of Chance. Memories attacked from every angle, relentlessly bombarding me with snapshots of mine and Chance's childhood and teenage years together — the imaginary life we might have lived together if those tragedies hadn't caused everything to plummet into a bleak watery chasm.
Everything mattered with Chance; in her presence, all the inconsequential moments of life, that I never noticed before that night, became meaningful.
She stuck with me throughout high school, even when she was offered the opportunity of being one of the 'populars'. She gave up the opportunity of getting close to Heather just to stick with me.
Even when I got awful acne when I was 14, she spent hours researching skincare routines and dermatologist-approved fixes — not because of how my acne made me look ugly, but because she knew how badly it dragged down my already-suffering self-confidence.
How every time Baxter, an irrelevant kid at school, chatted shit about our friendship, she'd stick up for me — and defend me with words as I struggled not to use my fists to communicate my anger towards Baxter's constant misogyny.
What's wrong Brewer? Not managed to get her in bed yet?
You two should just fuck and get it over with already, you're old news
Rory and Chance sitting in a tree, doing things they shouldn't be—
Thinking about Baxter's comments, even now, makes my blood boil. Now he's inconsequential.
The only consequential events in my life have been with Chance. Even revising for our fucking GCSEs together made me smile, and made me enjoy life. Sitting in the back of her car as her dad tried to teach her to drive, with both of us pulling faces at one another in the rear-view mirror.
In all honesty, it's only been the last year or so that I realised how much I loved Chance. Our relationship was so natural and so easy; no complications or drawbacks to any of it. Even before I figured out the meaning of love, I'd loved her wholeheartedly and without any regret.
I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to admit it to her. Maybe I could've helped her sooner if she'd known just how much I care for her.
With a jolt, I realise that I saw some of these flashes of our life — of her life in the moments before she tipped off the edge of that waterfall on that fateful night. I wonder if she saw anything, or thought anything at all before she decided to fall.
Because here's the thing, she did decide to fall. There is no doubt in my mind whatsoever about that. There's only one thing that will clear the fog that persistently surrounds that night — swimming in the same waters that 'drowned' Chance.
I have to find that waterfall again.
But first I figure I have to follow the tragedies in order; trace the landmarks in Chance's life that lead to that momentous decision to disappear.
No matter what else happens today, I can't delay helping Chance any longer. She has to be out there somewhere. Chance Noah Harn is too stubborn to give up, or so I used to think before that night. I refuse to believe she would leave this life entirely. Wherever she is, I have to at least try to help her.
Tears choke my throat as I stand in the shower, leaning a hand against the wall. I owe it to Chance. I was guilty of not realising all the things that were happening to her; guilty now of my negligence in my search for her.
I need to help her.
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