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Chapter Three: My Love’s Arising
I startled awake, my heart racing. I didn’t even notice the crick in my neck anymore. What in the world happened last night? I mean, I know that Brent and I both died that night, but not literally together, holding hands! And not with the sappy love story ending like that, my mind telling me to tell him I love him, but just before I could, he dies. That’s so like some twisted version of The Notebook. And why am I sounding like a typical teenage girl trying to remember a hangover? Ugh, I need to get more sleep.
I finally look around my room, the sun blinding me, the same as yesterday. I once again glance at the clock, and see that it’s 8:45 am. I was getting up and getting dressed when something in the corner of my room catches my eye. An intricate and multi-colored crystal vase, with one single rose in it. I quickly finish putting on my shirt, and rush over to it, tripping on my rug on the way there. I gaze at the vase as if it was some wonder of the world. There’s no way, no way at all. That vase wasn’t there on the day of my birthday, the day of my death. Upon further investigation, I find that this rose has absolutely no thorns, and I furrow my brows in confusion. I try to pick off a petal, and I succeed, but another immediately grows back, confusing me even more.
I take one last look at the pedal and grabbed my bag, opening the door to reveal Mr. Meowsir, waiting just as he was yesterday, and instead of talking to him, I just rush to the kitchen, stopping by the garage to drop my bag off at the Bugatti, knowing I’d be able to take it again today.
Mr. Meowsir seemed to notice my ignoring him, which is also weird. Him and Brent, huh? This is getting stranger. I immediately go over to my mom, and she doesn’t notice me one bit. I even slap her, and there’s no reaction, so I do it a couple more times, even harder. Still, nothing. I look at the clock, I’m 2 minutes early, so I walk over to the pantry, and get Mr.Meowsir his dog food, and right at 9 am, I finally talk to my mom.
“Hey mom, how’d you sleep?” I ask carefully, reciting the script I had practiced for the past fifty-seven days, all of them the same.
“Like a baby,” she paused, looked over at a cabinet where my dog would usually be scratching, but instead, he was at his bowl, scarfing away his food. She still continued, “Say, do you mind getting that dog his food? I’m afraid I’ll have to send him to doggy boot camp if he scratches another of my cabinets.”
I didn’t know why, but what she says send me over the edge. “You know what?!? Why don’t you ever freaking do it yourself! You’re the one who bought him! I never asked for a dog! I never asked for this life!”
By the time I finish, I’m kneeling on the ground, doubled over from the pain of what I just said. Because I did ask for this, in a way. On the day of my death, my last thoughts were “I wish I could have just one more day.” And I did.
Some sick genie heard my wish, and granted it. Every day, I have to relive the day of my death, no way to change anything. It always ends the same way, Brent and I somehow ending up in the alley, and we get shot, but I always pass out before he dies, the last thing I see is him get shot.
Then, the next thing I know, I wake up, and it’s the morning of June 6th, 8:45 am. Ivellise and I always fight, Sarah and Brent always throw me a party, but sometimes it seems so new, because the memories of the day before are very murky. But not last night, that seems so etched into my brain, I could describe it forwards and backwards. I count the days by remembering the feeling of getting shot, and last night made it fifty-six.
I sprung off the floor and grab the keys of the Bugatti, already knowing neither of my parents will even realize I’m gone. The last thing I heard when I was going out through the door was my dad saying, “Hey Hail-Rain, you mind running to the other fridge to get us some milk?” He was smiling at an empty space in front of the fridge.
I shut the door and didn’t look back.
I arrived at Brent’s house at exactly 9:15 am, after stopping at Starbucks to get us both Banana Nut Muffins, and Mocha Lattes. He was stepping out of the door, and I saw him holding the Tiffany’s box. Then, the next thing I noticed was completely shocking. He was wearing the same clothes, but in one of his pockets was a rose. When he opened the car door, he immediately saw my expression, and saw that there was something wrong with me, like always.
“Hailee! You ok?!?” he asked, grabbing my shoulders and shaking them, trying to break me out of the trance I was in, and he eventually succeeded, but not before I asked him what was on my mind.
“Where’d you get that rose?”
“It was in my room this morning, just all by itself in a vase. Strange right?” he answered, glancing down at the rose.
My stomach dropped, dragging my heart along with it. I must’ve turned some shade of blue because Brent turned frantic, trying to get me to breathe. I looked at him for a long time, and started breathing, and he looked at me right back. In that moment, nothing mattered, I felt like I was lost in time. Very cliché, yeah, but that’s exactly how I felt.
I suddenly felt the impulse to tell him what I wanted to tell him last night, what was that again? Right now, I didn’t care… Oh, right. I wanted to tell him I loved him. And before my brain thought any better, probably from the lack of oxygen, my mouth took over.
“Brent can I tell you something?” I blurted out suddenly, and looking away, trying to hide my blush.
“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” he said, smirking, probably thinking that I’m so cute for blushing.
“I, um, I – I…”
“Yes…?” he said, dragging out the question part, making me blush harder, look down, and start playing with my thumbs.
Say it, stupid!
No, because what if I look like an idiot then!
Oh, like you don’t already look like an idiot right now!
Well I don’t want to make things weird!
This moment is making them weird.
It won’t change anything.
I’m such an idiot.
I sighed and let my brain beat my heart, and instead, I just asked another thing that was on my mind.
“Hey, Brent, do you believe in something that could make you relive the same day for the rest of your life?”
I immediately looked up, and saw a brief look of shock pass his face, a glint of hope in his eyes. He quickly composed himself, his look turning into a confused one.
“What are you talking about, Hails?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Never mind,” I muttered, looking back to avoid his eyes and pull out of the driveway.
He also sighed and shook his head, “You are so difficult sometimes, Hailee.”
“Thank you,” I retorted sarcastically, glancing at him.
He rolled his eyes and looked out the window. “You see? Whatever.”
The rest of the day passed by the exact same way as yesterday. I decided to use the same comeback, because nobody will notice, and I had way too much on my mind. The delivery went much more smoothly though, because I wasn’t thinking about my past friendship with her.
Brent and I saw her crying before lunch, but like always, I forgot that she was crying, and also the reason why.
Gosh, I need to start remembering the more important stuff, and not the petty stuff, like what to say to my parents, and what to say to my dog.
I got ready at Sarah’s house like always, and instead of texting my mom first, she randomly texted me an affirmative answer, even though I hadn’t said anything. Brent picked us up, but this time, he was wearing the rose in the pocket of his tux, the red matching his red tie perfectly.
“It’s that rose again…” I whispered, staring at it.
“Yeah? Is there something wrong with it?” he asked curiously, looking like a scolded puppy.
“Oh no, no, It’s just…” I trailed off.
“It’s just what?” He asked, poking my side.
“ I feel like I’ve seen it before.”
“Hmm…” he muttered, but didn’t go on, just furrowed his brows at me and started driving.
Again, when we arrived the party was in full swing. Sarah immediately jumped out of the car, not even caring about us. That was the last time I saw her. Brent and I were walking towards the building, but then I grabbed his hand and stopped him.
“You know, I don’t really want to go to this. Can we just walk? Around?” I pleaded.
He pursed his lips, and then he started pulling me towards the downtown area.
He leaned into me, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he said, “Honestly, I didn’t either.” It was whispered in my ear, and my skin tingled where his breath had touched it.
I looked up at him, and I just smiled. That’s all he can make me do, is smile.
I realized what we had just done, I had just defied the laws of ‘the day’. I immediately asked him my question again.
“Brent, seriously, do you think there is such a thing as reliving the same day for the rest of your life?” I stopped walking suddenly, making his hand yank back and he jumped in surprise.
He looked at me questioningly, “Yeah, I mean, I guess that could happen…” he said very carefully, as if trying to make me think he’s not crazy, or convincing himself that I’m not crazy.
I nodded and sighed, and we kept walking, still holding hands. It felt nice, almost like we were a couple… but I know it’s not like that. Because I love him, the feelings are not returned, right?
Right?
I tried to convince myself out of it, to make my decision to not say anything, but to tell him is more rational. Because, what’s the worst thing that could happen? If the feelings aren’t returned, he just won’t remember tomorrow.
For the second time tonight, I stopped in my tracks, making Brent turn to look at me with a frustrated expression, until he saw the look on my face. I looked to my right and I noticed that we were in the dark alley, tears start pouring down my face as I realized this is about to end.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooping me into a gentle hug, and kissing the top of my head. My heart fluttered and there were butterflies in my stomach. The feeling that I had right now is indescribable, and uncontainable. It’s a combination of warmth and happiness when I’m with him, and longing when I’m not. I have to tell him.
I pull back boldly, and look him in the eye, “I-“
The sound of a gunshot has cut me off again, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the impact.
After five seconds, after I feel nothing, I hear a thud three feet away from me. My eyes flew open and I was horrified when I saw Brent lying there, struggling to breathe, blood coming from an area where his lung should have been. I kneel down and grab his hand, so overcome with emotion. I kept trying to think how this happened.
I was supposed to get shot first.
I looked around and then I cursed silently as I realized what happened. Brent was on the right side tonight, on the side I was on when we died. So, the person on the right side gets shot first.
I shook in panic as I realized who our attacker was going to get next: me. My hands were flying over Brent’s body, to try to comfort him, to help him, but when I couldn’t find a way, I just lay on him in defeat, our cheeks touching. He grabbed my hand. I started bawling. Blood had made its way to his face, and my tears were washing it away. I sat up, and then grabbed his face to face me. He looked at me for one long second, and then his eyes shut, his death grip on my hand loosening completely.
My sobs turned to full-body-shudders, my lungs unable to get enough oxygen, my eyes unable to make anymore tears. I laid my forehead on his chest, feeling emptiness at the quietness of his heart. Where was this murderer? Why can’t he just end it so I can wake up in my bed tomorrow morning? So far away from this moment. My head starts thudding softly, and I felt a migraine coming on.
Only thirty seconds had passed since Brent got shot, yet it felt like a lifetime. I was barely aware of the gunshot, and then the bullet piercing into my left side. I heard my heart beat faster, and then slower, finally giving up.
If only I had one more day with him…
And then for the fifty-seventh time in my life, everything went black.
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