There are ways of dying that do not end with a funeral. Types of deaths you can't see, feel or smell. Because death, just like love, has a mind of its own and some things can't be prevented.
What started as an innocent high school quest in search o...
*PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO VOTE! IT TAKES JUST A SECOND BUT GIVES THIS STORY MORE EXPOSURE AND THEREFORE HELPS ME AS A WRITER SO SO MUCH :) *
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I've never experienced a different winter than the one in the mostly-sunny California state. I've never even been outside of California.
Michigan winters are completely out of this world. It's so cold outside that even with several thick layers on, it still feels like the cold is biting into me, slipping beneath my skin.
I'm getting used to it, even though a part of me has been looking forward to going back to California for Christmas lately. Because of the weather, mostly. And Mom and Rose and the twins. Not so much because of being in the same vicinity as the rest of the group, or what little's still left of them.
Everyone's in college somewhere out of state, except Connor and Jade, who I know are both at Berkeley. I know because out of everyone, they've been the only two people actively keeping in touch with me.
Well, Cassidy has been trying to keep in touch, too, I guess. She tried to reach out to me more than handful of times during the last few months, and one time, it even seemed like she might come visit in person. . . but it all crumpled down for her like a stack of cards when I told her I knew everything and thought it'd be for the best if she already gave it a rest and left the past in the past instead of desperately holding onto it and trying to bring it into the future. I should've figured out there was something not adding up in the whole situation when she sent me the first letter, because even though what she has written in it was true, there were apparently so many things she wasn't truthful about. Like all the nudes she planted in Timothy's MacBook just so Aspen would find them and put two-and-two together about what an awful person he—and the rest of us in tow—truly was, when in reality, it was her who tricked the girls into sending them to her fake 'Timothy Brenton private' account on Instagram.
Not to say that Timothy isn't a dirtbag at times and never traded nudes with anyone but he never saved them onto his computer as a leverage for blackmail. He might be oblivious and careless as hell but he isn't stupid enough to risk getting in trouble for underage pornography.
Jade says Cassidy's still in California but I haven't heard of her since, and I'm not particularly interested in updates about her after the shit she's pulled. She was willing to destroy our entire group for the off-chance of getting back with me. Jealousy or love or hate or whatever, what she did wasn't right. And I know I'm not the one to talk because I've made many unforgivable mistakes myself, but the thing is, I never had any ill intent toward anyone. I was a selfish asshole. She a calculated manipulator.
I'm currently not enrolled anywhere. After my recovery treatment ended at the end of July, I had to go back to Los Angeles and complete the classes and heaps of tests and essays and projects I missed just so I could graduate and didn't end up like a high-school dropout. That one would certainly give my mother a stroke.
I was thinking about college and enrolling in the fall but the application window was already closed and even if they made some sort of miraculous exception because of my circumstances, I still didn't have the time to prepare when I had to squeeze in everything I needed to learn to finish off my senior year.
Taking a gap year made the most sense.
Just like staying in Michigan did.
I've made friends here, Javier and Cammila, who later introduced me each to their friends in the area, and I got a job here. As a mail carrier. Collecting and delivering letters and packages to and from local business and residences. On a bicycle. Which I only bought because of the job since to drive a car, I needed a safe driving record, which I don't have thanks to the second accident, and therefore driving wasn't an option for at least a while.
Not that I mind the bike. I've actually grown quite fond of it. It's become very therapeutic and also gives me some sort of exercise. The only thing I don't like about it is the cold, or the rain/snow, now that the weather is getting colder every day.
Despite the cold though, I don't think I've ever felt internally warmer in my entire life.
I've been keeping in contact with Courtney, too, only through occasional once-a-month-letters, but I think knowing that I—or anyone else from our former group—didn't rape her and she wasn't blaming me for it because the college guy who did wasn't traceable at the time since he wasn't from California and used a fake name, definitely eased some of the guilt off my chest.
Actually, it lifted most of the guilt off my chest.
Aspen has decided to go with Ann Arbor, even before she knew I wanted to stay in Michigan and when she finally told me, I had a brief thought flash through my mind: Maybe the universe wants us to have another chance, too.
She's been living with her grandparents, in her old room, so she wouldn't have to unnecessarily throw more money out of the window for student housing. Her grandparents are pretty lenient, I've come to find out, and when she's not in school, or in the hockey rink, we spend a lot time together there. Much to my bafflement, they're totally okay with me spending the night there as well, but only if I stay on the couch in the living room downstairs.
I don't really mind that, either. Sure, I'd like to sleep right next to her, and when I say sleep I mean sleep because we're taking things slow and building the trust that was broken first, but it's not like I have much say in that since disrespecting her grandparents and getting permanently banished from their house is not something I want to risk.
Besides, if we want to have some private downtime without any—or a little less—interruptions, we can always go to my place. Or rather, my room in the co-lived apartment in the city that I share with Javier and Cammila.
It's raining today, just like it has been for the past three days, so I'm not surprised that by the time I make it to my weekly therapy session, I'm almost completely soaked through, despite my water-resistant puffer jacket.
My therapist, Mrs. Miller, isn't surprised by it that much either, seeing the storm outside the window, though she offers me a towel to dry my hair a bit and two cozy blankets to warm up when I sit down on the couch opposite her. She cranks up the heater and makes me a cup of hot tea, too.
I pull off my shoes and let the soft blankets envelop me completely, leaning back to relax fully.
"So, how are we feeling today?" She asks, just like she does at the start of every session before we dive into the more difficult topics. "This is the worst rain of this entire week, I swear."
"Good." I smile, then look at the ascending downpour of rain splashing onto the window now that she's mentioned it. For some reason though, I find it difficult to share the opinion. It's just rain. "Really good, actually."
And for the first time, I don't just mean it, I really feel it. I'm not saying it just because it's a conveniently expected answer, or because it's an easier lie than explaining why you're fucking miserable to someone.
I'm still on some antidepressants for my anxiety to help with managing my occasional panic attacks but I do feel good.
Because my life is good.
*PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO VOTE! IT TAKES JUST A SECOND BUT GIVES THIS STORY MORE EXPOSURE AND THEREFORE HELPS ME AS A WRITER SO SO MUCH :) *
