1 day, 4 hours, and 37 minutes.
It's been exactly 1 day, 4 hours, and 37 minutes since I saw Nick drunk.
I can't shake his expression from my head; his desperate, sorrowful, pleading, expression. But since then, he's been like a ghost. I haven't seen him around the house, only glimpses of dirty dishes in the sink, of more liquor bottles disappearing (yes, I know where he keeps them), of crumpled clothes he's too lost to notice.
Every time my eye catches a glimpse of him, my heart squeezes, reminding myself that in a few days its all going to disappear. Once he gets sober enough he'll send me back. The thought sits heavy in my chest, digging out holes in parts I thought had long been cemented by hate, frozen solid in a lifetime worth of sorrow.
Outside the world has gone silent and lately, her colors have seemed to be dimming, day by day. The birds dart around, a muted mosaic of red and blues, while the sky slowly seeps into a dusty pink, like an old painting, half-finished, long forgotten on a rotting canvas by God.
I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand being in this house, in this place full of fading memories, this place of ghosts and shadows.
I need to get out.
The thought barely escapes my mind when I'm already flying down the stairs, sneakers in hand, a hasty note in hand, letting Nick know that I'll be back.
I want him to know that I'm not running away. I'm just....clearing my head.
Yes, just clearing my head. Nothing less, nothing more.
Carefully placing the note in a place I know that Nick will see it, I slip on my sneakers and let the oak door slide shut behind me, the thump sending a shiver down my spine.
For the first time in ages, I let loose my tense shoulders, drop my neck, stretch my neck until the knots feel less tight, less like a noose around my neck and more like a warm, winter scarf hugging instead of strangling me.
I bring my cracking, barely-held-together ear buds to my ear and simply begin to walk. I don't know where, forget why. My playlist of Disney songs singing of princesses and witches begin to play in my ear, spinning tales of handsome heroes and loving parents.
Parents. With an 's', as in multiple.
I quickly shake the thought from my head.
I've always loved Disney songs. After all, I can't remember the countless nights spent squished between my parents on our couch, a Disney movie marathon playing on the TV, our off-key voices jumbling together to sing-alongside the characters in every song. The memory brings a soft smile to my face, the voices of my parents jumping alive for the briefest of moments.
But then my smile drops as I look up to see where my feet have taken me.
A pool.
My breath gets knocked from my lungs. After all these years, and I still end up to the very place it started.
The school's pool stands a lone structure, the building hidden by shadows even in the sun. Angry vines curled around it, and the scattering of leaves covering every surface suggested the janitor certainly dropped the pool from his routine.
With a tremor in my hands, I pushed the door to the pool, holding my breath as the familiar stench of chlorine rushed my senses, sending a flood of memories through every fiber of my being.
I placed a foot in and the world behind me disappeared, falling away as the shadows swallowed me whole.
I was utterly alone. The pale lights above flickered, painting the still water of the pool a murky blue.
Memories of laughter and dripping wet teammates flicker through my vision, memories of gliding silently through the water, of flying for competitions, late nights in hotel rooms comparing swim times. I stumble towards the pool's edge, kneeling. I catch a glimpse of the girl staring back at me. Her face keeps distorting in the water, blue eyes shifting to green, child-like features aging to grief-filled ones.
The crowd cheered as I clutched the trophy in my hand, my hair dripping wet, my swim suit sticking to my skin, my teeth chattering from the cold, but I didn't care one bit. I eagerly scanned the crowd for my parent's faces, finding them in an instant. Their proud expression stole my breath away and their cheering smiles brought on one of my own. As soon as I was let down from the podium they rushed towards me, pulling me in for a hug despite my wet frame.
"We're so very proud of you Jules," my dad spoke his words into my hair, but I could hear the smile in his voice as clear as day. I laughed pushing him off me, "You can tell me how very proud you are after the team dinner," I poked him in the chest. Immediately the smile dropped from my parents' faces.
"Jules," my mom began, "We were thinking that you could...maybe skip the team dinner?"
What? "But mom, I just got into NATIONALS!" I whined, irritation seeping into my tone. "Please guys, c'mon you never let me go out, ple-"
"JULIA, are you coming!" my teammate's voice cut through the air as she waved over, standing next to my coach. The entire team looked ready to leave, waiting for only me. Embarrassment started to worm its way into my chest.
"Guys, come-ON please, just go home without me or something, I promise I'll be fine!" The high from making it to finals was starting to wear off, "Look, no-one else's parents are holding them back!" My voice had raised to a slight whine, but when my dad's face flickered into defeat I knew I'd won.
"Alright fine Jules, but tell Amanda's mom to drive you home straight after." I pumped my fist into the air, "YES! I will don't worry." I gave them a reassuring smile and a quick hug before turning around to race back to my team. My parents gave me one last wave.
"We love you Jules."
And I never said it back.
They died on the way back home. And it was all my fault.
I scrambled back from the pool edge as quickly as I could, the memories of it all too much to bear. It was suffocating me. My parents had died because I wanted to go to a fucking team dinner.
If only I'd have gone with them.
If only I'd have been a better daughter.
If only I'd have told them that I loved them.
Instead they were dead. I closed my eyes, wishing away the smell of the chlorine, the sound of water lapping against the sides, the sight of the flickering bulbs. I had given up swimming ever since that day. I forfeited nationals, threw all my swimsuits away, burned my gear, gave my trophy away. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Never again.
I crawl back until my back hit the wall behind me, the cracks and mold clinging to the surface reminding me of my own cracking, molding heart.
I press my hands to my chest as I squeeze my eyes shut, willing with every part of my body, to not let the tears out.
My vision starts to blur.....no, no, no, this can't be happening, Julia, don't let the tears out-
I angrily push myself off the floor, trying not to let my tears blur my vision. My feet hit the tiles with a resounding thwack as reach for the door.
I need to get out.
The dark, flickering lights above the pool, the chlorine smell, the sound of water lapping, everything is just too much-
I need to get out. I need to get out. I need to get out. I need to-
My hands push open the door as my eyes yearn for the familiar rays of sun to hit, for the sounds of nature to return, for life to come back. But there's nothing but darkness.
The sky is dark, a black mass, the moon no where in sight.
The sky was dark.
The moon was no where in sight.
I sat in the window at the pizza place our swim team had gone to for dinner. It was relatively quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. I
remember thinking the sky was dark. But it was a beautiful kind of darkness. It shimmered, cerebral, like how a jet-black gemstone glimmers when it catches the light just perfectly.
Turning to Amanda, I opened my mouth to speak when the diner's doors were pushed open, the quiet interrupted by the static crackle of police walkie-talkies and the hushed murmurs of police chatter.
I knew it then. Sure my brain couldn't catch up, but from the moment they stepped into the diner, from the moment one officer's eyes flickered towards mine, I knew.
"Julia Foster, we are sorry to inform you, but your parents are dead."
The sky is dark.
I'm outside the pool now, but my throat is still closing up.
The sky is dark.
Air feels stuck somewhere between my lungs and my mouth. The sky is dark. I can't get out. I need to get out.
The sky is dark.
An unfamiliar feeling creeps up my neck, twisting and circling it until I feel a pressure build.
No. My hands fly up to my neck, clawing and clawing, scratching, bruising, scraping, peeling.
I can't breathe. I need. Breathe. I breathe. I can't- dark sky. No clouds. Breathe. I need breathe. Sky dark. Throat hurts.
I can't see straight through my tears. I stumble around in the darkness, tripping over roots, bumping into branches.
Dark sky. Throat breathe. I need- throat. Sky breathe. Cold is- can't think. Breath air. Need air.
I let out a guttural scream as my shins hit the ground.
Trip over rock. Wet knees. Red knees. Hurting knees.
I need- breathe. Clawing, scraping, peeling- can't breathe. Cold, cold, cold, so very cold. Ice hands. Through the haze, one word jumps out at me over and over and over again.
Nick. Nick. Nick. Nick.-
But it's so cold, and my throat hurts, and my nails are bloody from scratching so much, and my knees hurt, and I can't seem to- breathe. Its just so easy to lie here, on the ground, curled into myself, into a ball.
The sky is dark.
I close my eyes. No cold. No pain. It will all be over.
It is all over.
**********
Death feels warm. The blankets around me remind me of the ones in my room. In Nick's house. I smile when I think of him. He'll be better off without me. He'll be happier, more free, less burdened.
Now suddenly he's here in front of me, in the afterlife, and his face is scrunched in concern and I almost laugh because my imagination captured him perfectly, every hair in place, the blueness of his eyes, the color of his skin. Now he's reaching out to me and I smile because now I can imagine the pads of his fingers touching my face, the callouses of his hand cupping my cheek, his touch gentle and sweet.
When he finally touches me I recoil in fear. The realization hits me like a freight train. I let out a sharp gasp that sends Nick stumbling back.
Dead.
I thought I was dead. I should've die-
"Julia?"
His voice is small, uncertain, worried, un-Nick-like.
"I'm sorry." The apology is a reflex. "I shouldn't have gone off like that-"
He cuts me off again, such excruciating agony filling every one of his features, "Julia, are you ok? Please, Jules, tell me you're ok, baby" He crouches down in front of me, and pain flicks across his gaze as he searches my eyes. His arms look so comforting and all I want in that moment is to sink in his arms and let his embrace take away all the pain. He'd tell me everything will be ok, that he won't send me back. He'd hug me and never let go, and maybe then everything would be ok.
Then I remember how terribly mad he is and should be at me. But I can't help the quivering question that escapes my lips, "Nick, are you mad at me?" I don't meet his eyes because I can't bear the answer.
"What?!" His reply comes out in absolute shock, and I can hear his already cracking voice break. "Julia, baby, I- I'm so sorry for what I-"
I can't hold back my tears now, and they drip down my face as I still point my gaze downwards, "Nick, will you p-please h-hold me?"
The words come out in stilted sobs and I can't bear to look at him, but now I feel his arms around me and his chest is pressed to my face. The sobs come harder and harder and he just squeezes tighter and tighter, rocking me back and forth. He whispers sweet nothings in my ear, patting my back as my cries rattle my whole body.
"I thought you h-hated me after I, y'know, r-ran away,"
His body sags, "Oh Jules," he smiles sadly, "I'm the one who's sorry." My tears slow for a moment. He continues, "I wasn't thinking straight. I raised my hand at you in a way that no one should have to experience. I hurt you because I let my feelings get the best of me", he takes a big gulp of air, "because I....I was scared of losing you."
His grip on me tightens. "I broke the trust between us, and I'm so, so, sorry Jules. I never hated you, and I was never angry with you."
I'm about to speak up when Nick just crumples, his voice breaking, "I hit you that day, and I swore I never would. I hurt you. If you want to go back to....to the home, I can sign the papers tonight. I'll fully understand." I can feel his chest expand as he holds his breath.
I push myself off him immediately.
What?
I wipe the snot off my face, letting out a small sniffle, "I thought you were going to send me back." I gaze up at him through my damp lashes, watching his give me another uncharacteristic sad smile.
"No, Jules, none of this is your fault. It's all mine. I made a mistake that I vowed to you I never would, but I still did it anyway."
He's blaming himself for too much. I was an asshole kid who ran away because she was scared. An asshole kid that hurt him.
"I made a few mistakes along the way too."
To my surprise, he gives me a real smile, his eyes slightly crinkling in the corner, "I guess all of life is like that, huh. Just trial and error."
Despite my tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes I smile too. Life really is like that. I repeat his words.
"Trial and Error."
**********
HELLO TO MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON PLANET EARTH!
I'm so, so, sorry for not updating, but to make up for it I've written an extra long chapter filled with EXTRA-LONG angst!
We finally get Nick and Jules reunited so YAY! (Please gimme chapter ideas, I wanna make this story super fun and interesting). ALSO, stay tuned because we will be introducing another character that is going to get Julia into a lot of trouble, which yk what that leads to...
Also, the non-grammatically sentences are Jules having a panic attack in case that wasn't clear.
As always, I truly appreciate your guys' love and support (and reading)!
Ciao for now,
GodOfTheMangos