NOCTURNE » Nathan Prescott

» xviii. darkness

On the way to the parking lot I spotted Mr Jefferson leave the swimming pool and head into the same direction.

"Fuck," I muttered, digging through my pockets as I looked around frantically. "Hey, Justin!"

"Heeeey Carlyle!" He said slowly. My eyes were still fixed to Jefferson who was now approaching the stairs. "What can I do for ya?"

"Can you distract Jefferson for a bit? Like, five minutes?"

Justin tilted his head to the side. "What do I get for it?"

I retrieved my findings from my pockets and held them out for him. "I got twenty bucks and a joint. You in?"

"Sweet. You got it."

He pocketed my offerings and took off in our teachers direction with his skateboard. Jefferson stopped to talk to him, but he seemed rather impatient. I hurried to my car and sped out of the parking lot, going way above the speed limit, but it still felt like I was too slow. It was like one of those nightmares where you had to run from an impending lethal threat, but your legs were made of jelly and every leap forward took much longer than it should. Almost as though you were trying to run from somebody in low gravity, except they were still moving normally, closing in slowly but surely.

I sped onto the junkyard grounds, nearly knocking over the rusty sign by the entrance. The car came to a stop and I jumped out of the drivers seat, sprinting across the wet grass. The wind was whipping through the treetops, nearly drowning out the sound of my voice. I didn't know when I had started to scream out his name, but by the time I realised my throat already began to hurt.

I finally made it to the other end of the lot and found Nathan standing by a pile of garbage. Taking one step closer I noticed that part of the ground was dug up.

"Nate?" I called out to him. His hands were tightly clenched to fists, and he stared at the hole in the earth like it was about to swallow him whole. And he would let it.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice raspy and choked up. He was crying.

"We can get you help, Nate."

I took another step towards him and he finally looked up at me. His eyes were swollen and red, traces of tears still lingering on his ghostly pale cheeks. "That doesn't bring Rachel back. And it won't fix Kate. There's no redemption for me here, can't you see that?" He sank to his knees. "Don't you see what I did? I killed her. In a junkyard. This is not a place to be buried."

He began clawing at the ground, his fingers digging into the earth around the small part that was already dug up. "Not for somebody like Rachel." His eyes overflowed yet again, small teardrops dripping on the back of his hand. "This is not a place to die for someone like her."

"And it's not the place to die for you either. We have to go."

"He's coming, isn't he?" A bitter tone laced his voice as a weak smile played around his lips; for a split second he almost looked serene.

"He is. Let's go."

Nathan kept digging deeper even as I tugged at his arm in an attempt to get him to follow me.

"Yeah. You're right." He said after a while and sank onto the ground fully, hands resting in his lap. "You should get out of here. You shouldn't have come here in the first place." Suddenly his eyes shot wide open. "You have to leave, Maddie. I don't want you to die too."

I practically dragged him away from the grave, and he still tried to get away. "Nate. You're not dying here, not today, and not before you get the chance to become really fucking old and happy."

"Leave me here. I deserve this. It's okay. I've accepted it."

"Nathan Joshua Prescott."

He flinched at the use of his full name. I let go of his wrist and crossed my arms in front of my chest, trying my best to push the burning feeling in my head to the very back.

"I know you don't want to die, and I won't let you. If you feel like you have to atone for Rachel's death or Kate's suicide attempt, this is not the way, Nate. If you die then that's it, no going back. If you live, and hold on for however long it is necessary, you'll have the chance to do good. It may not make the past disappear, but it will help to put you at ease. If you were to die now, what good would that do for anyone? Nathan, we may not be able to turn back time and undo these things, but we can make sure something like this doesn't happen again. You can be okay again. And you will be. Just, please, let's get out of here."

The sound of tires against the muddy ground grew louder as I kept holding out my hand to him, and he just blankly stared at me, eyes glazed over with a deep sadness.

"Nate. Come on. You're not alone in this, alright? I'll always be here."

Headlights hit the two of us and Nathan held up a hand to shield his eyes. I turned around only to see Mr Jefferson shut the door behind him, the light flooding in from behind obscuring his face. One thing, however, that stood out clearly in his silhouette, was the pistol in his right hand.

• ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ •