Remembering Taylor Mason (Rewritten, 2020)

Chapter Eighteen: Samara

When I get home, I throw my keys on the end table across from me, and run upstairs. I close my eyes, and lean up against the door to close it as gently as possible.
I decide that I need a change. All my clothing is either Evie's hand-me downs or dresses and skirts I've been given by my parents. I'm not a dress or skirt person, and they'd know that if they knew me.
But I guess nobody can really know anybody, no matter how hard they try.
—
I'm just about to empty my last drawer, when Evangeline comes in, completely unannounced.
"Ever heard of knocking?" I ask, whirling around to face her.
"Well someone's in a mood," she comments, looking up at me.
"Well I've had a bad day, so if you don't mind-"
"Ah, it's nothing a good Sister Hug can't solve," Evie wraps her arms around me and jumps on my back, before I can stop her.
"Evie, get off!" I scream a little more intensely than intended.
"Okay, okay," she says, jumping down. "Just wanted to lighten— wait a second. Is that smoke I smell?" She moves carefully around me, as if she thinks she could be wrong.
"Sami?" she asks slowly. "Have you been smoking?"
"That's none of your concern," I say, brushing past her and getting a bin from my closet for my old clothes.
"Yes, yes it is," she says, her voice rising. "I will not let my little sister"—
"Won't let me what? Make the same mistakes you did? Don't think I don't know that you still sneak one now and then. Especially when Grandma Thompson is over."
"Well let's face it, she can be a little hard to deal with," Evie laughs.
"No, she's not, Evangeline," I snap. "She's old and set in her ways, and you shouldn't take what she says so seriously. One of my best friends is dead. That's hard to  deal with. The other one is hardly hanging in there... that's hard to deal with."
"Don't do that," Evie says, looking me right in the eye.
"What. Evie , don't do what?"
"Look, I'm really sorry about Taylor, you know I am.  But it doesn't give you a monopoly on pain. It doesn't mean you can just go out and do stupid shit and get away with it. There has to be a time where you can accept"—
"I don't have to accept anything. You have to accept that I'm not who I used to be. You have to accept that I'm not that four year old girl anymore who believed in magic and unicorns and the good in the world. I've had to do more growing up in the last two weeks than you've ever had to do. I've seen things. I've gone through hell, all while you're lifeguarding at  a tiny kiddie pool, and hanging out with your girlfriend. Who, by the way, at least you still have!"
"Wait... Sami, were you and Taylor..." Evie asks,  stepping toward me carefully .
"It doesn't matter now. He obviously didn't love me. You confide in the people you love. You tell them things, even if you think they'll be hard to hear... he obviously didn't love me."
"Samara," Evie whispers, wrapping her arms around me once more. I jerk away quickly, and run downstairs.
I grab the keys off the end table before I can think better of it, and sprint for the door, slamming it behind me, I spring myself towards Evie's car. I need to be anywhere but here.
—
As I drive, a thousand burning thoughts roll around in my head.
Why hadn't Taylor told me?
Did he not trust me?
Did he think I would walk away?
How had I ever given him the impression I'd be anything but loyal?
How did I give him any impression that I wouldn't be able to be there for him?
I think of him now, sure he did have his struggles and sure he got angry and frustrated and sad sometimes. But every one of us do. And with him, it would only be for a few hours, a day, tops. Then, he'd go back to that goofy aloof grin of his, and everything was fine. Everything was perfect. Except it wasn't.
And how much of it was a lie?

Why couldn't I see how much he must have been hurting?
And how long had he been?
The word "relapse" plays on repeat in my mind.

Relapsing from when, exactly?

At the last minute, I decide to make a sharp turn to Liam's. Judging by his reaction, he hadn't known about Taylor, either. He's the only one who can possibly come close to understanding how I feel right now.
But, as I'm making my turn, I go way too wide.
I hold my breath, and my I grip the steering wheel harder than I ever have, as I start to spin out.
I get my control back at the last second, but of course by then, it's too late.
My ears start ringing and all I hear is a big crunch as I slam into a telephone pole.

—-
Darkness comes up to greet me, as I drift into the sweet ignorance of oblivion.