Oh.
My.
God.
If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. Am I hallucinating? Has losing my entire family finally pushed me over the edge? Can taking Prozac for over four months cause some kind of delusional side affect?
I have no clue because my eyes are still glued at the spot, wondering if he'll somehow reappear. Is he just an eccentric magician who enjoys playing sick jokes on people at cemeteries?
Even I know that's not true and my thoughts instantly go back to those six words he just said to me.
"I was sent to protect you."
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Protect me from what? Myself? I'm not sure anyone can do that even if they are capable of disappearing. It feels like I'm in a never-ending black hole, trying to claw my way out and getting nowhere when I try. The psychiatrist told me it would eventually pass. He said that since I never suffered from depression before now, it will just take time. Apparently, the kind I have is why people die of broken hearts. He may be right, I've never experienced anything this horrific before. Unfortunately, I can't just flip a switch and turn if off, so I take medicine to keep me from burying myself deeper in the darkness.
Turning the key in the ignition, I start the engine as Vivaldi begins playing through the speakers. I'm instantly calmed, like someone just placed a warm blanket over me, when I hear a chirp from my phone. As I pick it up I see Skylar's text flash across the screen.
"Come over if u want. Practice was cancelled."
A friend sounds really good right now...and he's pretty much the only one I've got. I don't even have to think about it and text him right back.
"On my way."
I shift into reverse and back up, turning the Volvo around. I take one last look at the hill but he's not there--only flashes of lightening streak across the sky.
I push the stick into drive and punch on the gas, quickly passing through the tall cemetery gates as fat raindrops being smashing against the windshield.
~~
Skylar comes to the door and the second he looks at me his smile instantly drops. "What's wrong?"
How the hell does he do that?
"Nothing. Why?" I smile, trying to make it reach my eyes as I stand there, holding a broken umbrella above my head.
There's no freaking way he can ever know about The Watchman or what I still can't believe he just did. He'll go straight to talking about my depression and if I'm taking my medicine, like he always does. I know he cares but he's like my freaking mother. I just want to talk without him analyzing my every move but that's not going to happen. He's already taken it upon himself to watch me like a hawk.
I'm starting to get pissed before I even walk into his living room.
His eyes narrow like he doesn't believe me. "Fine, don't tell me. But I'll eventually get it out of you."
Good luck.