This Is How I Die

This Is How I Made A List

I set the pencil down and stared hard at my empty plate. "Why can't I remember?"

"What do you remember, Iz?"

"I remember the morning. Mom playing Halloween music as usual, my sister asking to catch a ride with us. But she was a brunette, like me. Blake and Dre being football players." I whispered. "I remember running into you in the hallway too, and Blake being a dick about you talking to me. The night, though, it's fuzzy. I. . . I think I remember walking up to you. You were wearing like a suit and tie, right?"

He nodded, prompting me to continue.

"But I don't remember anything after running into you. If this. . . if I really am reliving the same day, maybe my brain's way of coping is blocking out each time I die?"

"Have you ever seen Groundhog's Day?" Knox asked after a considering and processing my words.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I watched it with my father when I was little. It was his favorite movie."

"Well, Phil was trapped in the loop because he was a dick." Knox recalled, eying me. "What finally broke it was him being selfless."

"Okay, how does that apply to me?" I retorted. "That's just a movie."

"A movie about a man reliving the same day over and over." Knox's reply was said slowly, as if he were talking to a small child. "Which is what we've been doing for the last two days."

I remained quiet as I took in Knox's expression across the table. The boy thoroughly believed we were stuck in some kind of fantastical time loop like the main character of an old Bill Murry movie.

"Knox." I reached across the table and grasped his hands. "Think about what you just said. Do you hear how crazy you sound?"

"Do you have a better explanation?" he snapped.

I sunk back against my seat, crossing my arms as I tried to wrap my head around everything.

On one hand, what Knox was saying made sense and was a good explanation for what was going on, even if a bit fantastical. On the other, it didn't explain why everything was changing each time I came back, or most importantly-why I'm dying every time.

"I know this is all hard to process." Knox broke the silence, leaning over the table as he pushed our plates aside. "Trust me, I'm freaking the hell out. Do you know how helpless I feel watching you die, Elizabeth?"

"Knox—"

"I can't do a God Damn thing to prevent it. I tried last night and you still died, just in a different way."

I lifted my head up and met his eyes again, his image blurring as tears stung my own. "I'm scared."

"Whatever this is it appears to be targeting you, possibly teaching you a lesson of some sort?" he theorized. "I'm not saying it's the same as Phil, because even with all the taint from your friends and boyfriend, you done have a mean bone in your body. But clearly there's a reason why you keep dying and coming back."

"Why are you here?" I whispered, barely audible, then louder, added, "Why, of all people, are you stuck with me? Why do you remember?"

He shook his head, just as lost as me. "I don't know."

*

We sat parked in front of my house for over twenty minutes, just staring at my father's Tahoe. Knox, though he was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and lost in thought, didn't try and force me from his car. And there was a part of me that was terrified to get out, to leave the security of being under his watch and protection. He'd stated he hadn't been able to save me either time, but he  had still tried, and that in itself was enough for me to have to put my faith and trust in him. Especially since he was the only one who seemed to be stuck in this never-ending hell with me.

"Knox." I said now, terrified to step foot outside the car. "I'm scared."

I'd said the same thing back at the diner, but he'd kind of brushed over it, though a look of sympathy and understanding had passed through his eyes. Being in the silence and confinement of his car, he was forced to answer directly.

"I want to promise you it's going to be okay." he eventually said, shifting his body in my direction. "But I can't. I fucking can't and I hate that I can't do a thing to ensure you're safety."

His words hung in the air between us for a few more minutes before I touched the top of his hand. "What if I don't go to the party?"

"What if there's something at the party you need to correct in order to escape this?"

The retort was far from what I was expecting, however practical it may be.

"Knox." my words caught in my throat, and in a choked sob I cried, "I don't want to die."

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the console of his truck to wrap me in his warm embrace. "I'm sorry."

I wanted him to promise he'd protect me, that he wouldn't let me die again. But pulling away and staring into his eyes, I realized that he couldn't give me what I needed, because he wasn't sure himself of what the future held. He hadn't been enough to help me the last couple times, and even if I couldn't fully remember that, he could.

"I'll be here." he squeezed my shoulders, beautiful eyes roaming my face. "If you die, I will too."

That was far from reassuring, but I suppose it was a little comforting.

He pulled me back against him, and I dug my nails into his shoulder blades. Terrified of the moment I'd have to let go."