Fixing the Broken

18//20 questions

"Oh my gosh Noah!"

"My turn. Why did you move around so much?"

"My mom couldn't ever stay in one place after dad died. She said it made her lonely. Why didn't you talk?"

"Because the more people I talked to the more people I had to lie to and tell them that I was okay. When's your birthday?"

"March 30th. When's yours?"

"January 4th."

"Noah that's in like a month! You're going to be 18! What do you want to do?"

"I always thought I wanted to leave this town and never look back." He glances over at me. "But I'm not so sure anymore. My turn, you asked 2 questions now I get 2. Where was your favorite place you lived and where do you really want to visit?"

"I'm not sure, and definitely France. Have you ever moved?"

"No. Why France?"

"Well I want to wait to go to France until I'm in love with someone. Something about being able to go from Paris the city of love to the countryside filled with fields of flowers and wineries with the love of my life sounds like a dream. Where do you want to go?"

"Norway."

"Why?"

"I want to see the Northern lights and Geirangerfjord. Plus it's gorgeous there."

"I'd love to do that. That sounds surreal."

"Yeah. What do you want to do when your older?"

"I want to be a journalist. What about you?"

"I kind of want to be a marine biologist. Why journalism?"

"I'd get to travel a lot and experience so many things. And I've always wanted to help people, and I think of it as a way of helping people, you know? Like keeping people informed on events and stuff. But I like the photography part of it the most. Why marine biology?"

"I'd get to travel, and I've always had a fascination with the ocean and stuff like that."

"My dad loved it. He'd always go out on his boat and look at different things. He used to take me sometimes."

We're silent for a minute.

"It's your turn." I say.

"Why did you cut yourself?"

"Shit, going off the deep end aren't we now?" I ask with a forced laugh. He doesn't laugh.

"Carter answer the question."

"I did it because I could feel anything besides guilt. Dad died and I thought it was my fault. No matter how many times mom said it wasn't, it was. I shouldn't have snuck out. He would've let me go too. I just wanted to do something risky, you know live a little. He wouldn't have been out if they hadn't found my room empty." I sigh as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Butterfly effect and all that. I just couldn't feel like I had killed my dad anymore. I wanted out. Out of everything. Out of life, out of my own head, out of my brothers words that were constantly in my thoughts. I wasn't strong enough to not want to die. I wasn't strong enough to live. Not for mom, not for my brother, and certainly not for my dad."