The Cabin

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After explaining the whole situation to my parents, they actually let me miss three days of school to go with Harry; we were traveling up state apparently. My mom was always for adventure, she really wanted me to experience things other than snow.

We left Wednesday morning, and would come home whenever we figured out what the next clue was. I was kind of nervous; I wondered what would come next for him. It was upsetting to not know what was around the corner, to not know what his father would say that could potentially shatter his heart even more than it was. I hated that I didn't know what to protect him from. 

“So, what was this place to you?” I asked as he drove, the air whipping my hair around, the windows were rolled down, letting in a perfect breeze.

“This was cabin we went to annually.”

“Why does it seem like you always spent time together?” I looked over him, he glanced at me in his black sun glasses, his hair spinning wildly too.

“We did.”

“Then…’

“Why’d he off himself? It was probably because I wasn’t enough to make him happy again after my mom left us.”

“Harry that’s not true.”

“Drop it Fin,” he spun a knob on the stereo, the car filled with loud music, I sighed and leaned back into the seat as he drove for hours and hours. “This is it.” It was similar to his house actually, the cabin style, except it was much taller, more than one level.  He tossed his sunglasses to the dashboard; I did the same. “I always wondered why he didn’t sell this place off.” He walked to the front door, and took out the key we found. He unlocked it and stepped inside, dropping our big duffel bags. “Whoa,” he whispered. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“It smells like... musk and some kind of spice cologne.”

“Dad,” he inhaled again.

I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, leaning my head against his spine. He held my hands, and we stood silently for a very long time. I could only imagine what this was like for him. I knew scents triggered memories, so much had to have been running through his head. He cleared his throat, and walked into the living room. He started taking the sheets and protective plastic off all the furniture. I watched him.

I knew this was incredibly hard for him. He had gone for years without thinking of his father, I could tell he tried hard not to. Now he was literally retracing his steps with him, I knew his heart was breaking, and it was breaking mine too.

“Clue? See one?” he looked around.

“We have days before I have to be home. Why don’t we take our time? Let’s just relax.’

He nodded and we sat on the red couch. “We’d um, we’d come here and fish, camp, he taught me how to ride a bike down this road.”

I sat closer to him, combing through his hair. “It’s okay to think about him Harry.”

He slid his hand on my thigh, giving it a squeeze, shaking his head. “No, it’s really not.”

“It is though. Memories can be comforting.”

“Not when someone died the way he did. He’d rather blow out his head than fucking take care of me, spend another day with me.”

“He loved you. He was lost. He didn’t know who he was.”

“Don’t make excuses for a man you never knew.” He spoke sharply. I went a bit limp. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“N-No, you’re right. I didn’t know the s-situation, but… I’m sorry but he did love you H-Harry. Or he’d never plan this out for you, or s-sign very card with a l-love dad.”

He just shook his head. “Are you hungry? It’s late; we haven’t eaten all day, just that food from the gas station.” 

‘It was a road trip; you have to have junk food.”

“Did you eat junk food in Antarctica with the sled dogs?”

I laughed. “Yeah, all the time.” He kissed my lips gently and headed out to the truck to get a cooler full of food that he brought.

I joined him in the kitchen, and we went outside, starting a fire. We roasted hot dogs over the flames, I leaned against him.

“Why do you care about me?” he asked quietly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I don’t get, why you kiss me, and spend so much time with me and are happy about it.”

“I guess,” I laced my arm around his, leaning into his upper arm. “I love the comfort you give me. There is something so protective, and safe about you. Taylor scared me to death. I hadn’t ever been on a date before, and that’s how my first one ended up.” I shivered. “I was… petrified after that night but… you make me feel unimaginably safe. I know you would never push me, or try anything I wasn’t ready for. I know that… you’re only alone not because you’re a freak or something, but because you’re scared too. You don’t want to lose any more people, and I’m sure it is extremely hard to even begin to talk about suicide with other people. They probably look at you like you have two heads and tail.”

He kissed the top of my head, and laced his arms around me. I listened to the fire crackle. I shut my eyes, loving the comfort of his arms.

“I like you an awful lot.” He whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you’re different, I like that. I like that… you’re honest, and you get kind of shy at times. I like that you can be suddenly bold, like throwing me onto your bed, and let me get to second base with you.” he laughed. “I really like that you don’t wear makeup, and you are perfectly happy with who you are. I like that you’re not a preppy bitch with a million friends. I like that you don’t have anyone but me.” He whispered that last part. “I like that… we’re both kind of untainted. I can really talk to you; really know you’re listening to me. I like that we don’t let other people control how we think.”

“We’re a fun breed.”

“We are.” He smiled down at me as I looked up at him. “It is so hard,” he half whispered.

“What?”

“I don’t know how to talk about his suicide, not really." 

“I know,” I rubbed his legs gently. “I don’t think anyone knows how to talk about it.”

“I wish… I just wish I could ask him. I just want to know why.”

“You may never know why,” I whispered. “There might not be a reason you could ever grasp. It takes a lot for someone to take their own life; it’s not some easy decision. It’s a last resort. You might not know why, but you can try to let go after all of this is done, and you get the answers you’ve been wondering about when you first found that letter.”

“Locker 161.”

I smiled sadly. “Locker 161.”

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