The distinct tapping of hail on a window is what rouses me. Thunder rumbles in the background as the rain patters against the roof outside. I love storms. So beautiful- deadly, but beautiful. Wind makes the sky whistle faintly and flashes of light from the lightning flicker through the window and over my partially closed eyelids.
I'm glad for the storm; it cuts through the eerie silence that lets me know that I'm alone. I'm in my bed at Loonie's- how I got here, I'll never know- and the house is deathly silent, apart from the occasional groan and crack of the house's interior. But even the storm can't mask the deafening thoughts that blare across my mind- most of them pertaining to Luca.
An extra loud crack of thunder after the lightning causes my eyes to snap open fully. I stay perfectly still, but turn my head to the window in my room. The rain had slowed to a stop, but the sky still groans and flashes. I close my eyes again, relaxing at the sound of water running down the drain pipe. Without realizing it, I fall asleep.
The next time I wake, there's only the sound of rain, no thunder or hail. I also recognize the dip in my bed where someone's shifting their weight from side to side. Please let it be another hallucination, I don't want to talk to anyone right now.
Unfortunately, my hallucinations can't bend matter- meaning I wouldn't be able to feel the impression on my bed. I crack my eyes open and stare at the boy sitting at my feet.
"Andy?" I squint, trying to see through my sleep-blurred vision. After blinking multiple times, I see Andrew smiling carefully at me.
"Hey. Sleep well?" He leans down to kiss me, but I edge away. His pout is tempting, but I decline his lips entirely.
I stand up hurriedly from my bed in only a pair of boxer shorts... ones that I wasn't wearing yesterday. What the- did they strip me or something? Das nasty. "Luca's dead." I state. He has to be, there's no possible way he'd still be alive.
Andy's daunting gray eyes stare back at me. "Dakota, Luca's going to be okay. He'll be in the hospital for a couple of days, maybe a week, but h-"
"No, he's dead." I nod, mostly to myself, and head for the shower. Andy tries to tell me more lies, but I just lock the bathroom door behind me and tug the water on. I drop my boxers and step in, shivering violently at the cold water. Eventually it warms up enough for me to focus and I rub my temples.
Yesterday. I try to remember all of what happened yesterday, but every time I think about it, the events will change. Like, one time I see myself being r*ped by Luca's father while Luca and Andy joke around and laugh in the corner. Another time, Luca's dead body lays on his father's bed, yet his father's still violating him in grotesque ways. And lastly (my favorite), Luca's r*ped and mutilated body lays beside my own r*ped and mutilated body while his dad grins down at both of us- his work finished.
I try not to pick which one I want to be real, because I don't think any of them are, but also because I can't really choose how I'd wish for last night to go. All I need to know is that there was r*pe, Luca's dad, Luca, and Luca's Number. Luca's dead.
I finish cleaning up and quickly dry off, wanting to talk to Andy now. I need to give my condolences. With only my boxers and a towel on, I slip back into my room and gently take Andy's hand. He looks so f*cking confused, but at the moment, I really don't care. "I'm sorry about Luca,"
Andy's face softens and he gives me a pained smile. "I can't believe his drunk of a dad came back. He used to abuse Luca and his mom a couple of years ago, but then he just up and left. For five years they were free. But now, after what he's done to Luca, he better be gone for good."
I nod and hug him lightly before pulling away and walking to my closet. I pick out my favorite sweatshirt to wear over my Sleeping With Sirens tee and vibrant blue skinny jeans. "When's the funeral?" I ask gently.
Andy stares at me before standing up and walking towards me until he's less than a foot away. He lightly grabs my face, making me lean into his hypnotic touch. How did I ever live without touching people before? "Luca is not dead. His heart did stop for a minute, but they did the shocky thingy on him and now he's just fine."
I'm inclined to think he's lying, but his eyes show truth. I stumble to the bed, my lower lip wavering and my heart pounding in my ears. Andy curls up beside me and rubs my back to comfort me. I mumble out all of my thoughts. "But... his Number... it's not possible...." My head snaps to the side to look at Andy. "Can we go see him?"
He nods and helps me up, snuggling into my side as we descend the stairs. Loonie's asleep on the couch, too tired to have made it to her bed. I shut the door quietly behind me after leaving a note on the coffee table beside her, telling her I'd be with Andy.
We approach Andy's small car when he asks, "You wanna drive?"
"I don't have a license," I mumble, embarrassed. He nods casually in understanding, but I can see that he's a little surprised so I explain myself further, "My last few foster parents didn't think I was 'mentally fit' to be on the road, so they never signed me up for driving lessons."
"Speaking of mental health, I just want to tell you that I'm perfectly fine if you are... unstable or something." Andy cracks an adorable smile, his hair flying messily around is face in the wind from the open window in the car.
I roll my eyes and laugh a little. Hun, you don't know the half of it.
We sit in a nice silence, holding hands across the shift stick. "Dakota?" Andy glances at me before returning his eyes to the road.
"Hmm?" I yawn and turn my head slightly in his direction.
"Before, you said something about a number; what did you mean?"
I go ridged and curse myself for being so open with my thoughts. Andy continues after a long moment of tense silence. "I told you about the little feelings I get when something bad is about to happen, but you never told me about your secret."
"I..." I have to swallow hard before continuing, "I see dates of peoples' deaths." I don't continue on saying that I feel the person's death too.
Andy drives in silence for a little while. We exit the highway, about three minutes away from Mercy Hospital. "Only when you touch them, right?"
I confirm his question. "I... I guess I already knew that though. I mean, the way you acted after touching Luca and all. But I still don't get why you panic so much. Is there something you're not telling me?"
Shaking my head, I pretend to think. "Maybe I panicked so much because his date was the very next day; most people our age don't have such a short time to live."
Andrew huffs angrily. "But what about when you hugged Dylan that one time in your room? You fr-"
"Can we just stop talking about it for now?" I snap at him with a glare. I'm sick of this bullsh*t. I just want it all to be gone; to let my pain and misery die out with the rest of me.
We pull into the hospital's parking ramp and I fum in my seat while Andy circles around a few times to find a parking spot. I lazily roll my head to look out the window and my eye catches someone I once knew.
Daniel Stedderman. He's wearing a flimsy blue hospital gown and has thick, black blood flowing in ropes down his wrists. He glares at me through his matted ginger hair, his eyes entirely a foggy white color.
As quick as he came, he vanished. Andy drove right past him. I crane my neck in my seat to see if I can catch another glance at my dead foster-brother, but Daniel has already faded back into my memories.
Three more days, three more days, three more days.
Andy parks and gets out of the car. I follow suit and quickly wrap my arms tightly around his waist. He pulls me into him even more and I bask in the drugging effects of his touch. Luca's here. I need Andy to help me through this, and I'm guessing he needs me too.
We walk in together, holding hands, and Andy looks back at his car. "We're in row 9, level C. remember that, Kota-Bear; 9-C."
I roll my eyes but keep that info tucked in the back of my mind. We take an elevator to the Lobby and Andy works his people skills so we can find what room Luca was transferred into. I zone out and allow him to steer me in he right direction.
Last night is still a blur. It's like my mind is purposely blocking the memories out, but a few things slip by. For example, I now recall the last few moments before I passed out; I was watching them try to shock life into Luca's stiff body, the heart monitor offering a strand of white noise and the clock reading 11:59. I buried my head into Andy's chest and when I look back, there's a flimsy beat signaled on the monitor and the clock says 12:01.
Yes, technically Luca did die on 08/01/2012, his Number, but he is supposed to stay dead. He isn't anymore special then, say, Daniel or Lucy or any of the other people who's Numbers were seen by me. Don't get me wrong, Luca seemed like a nice guy, but he should he dead right now. Pushing up daisies, six feet under, kicking the bucket, croaked, dead as a door nail. There's no explanation for why he didn't die and honestly, that scares the sh*t outta me.
I realize we've stopped and jump back in surprise at Andy's fingers snapping right in front of my face. He lowers his hand to my own and squeezes it reassuringly. "You good?"
I nod nimbly and follow Andy into the room where his mother is sleeping softly on one of the visitors' chairs. "I think Mrs. Johnson is asleep," Andy whispers to me, "And the doctors said Luca probably wouldn't wake up for about forty-two hours because of all the sedatives."
Walking cautiously to the edge of the hospital bed, I cringe as I remember more of what happened. Mr. Johnson violating his son, then coming after me. I want to look away from Luca's battered face, but I'm stuck in a trance; the same one that caused me to touch Luca when we were at Andy's house a few days ago.
Andy shifts his weight, watching me carefully. "Dakota? Are y-"
His voice cuts off when my bare hand presses against Luca's forehead. At first, there's nothing- just a murky silence. Then the pain returns of- what was supposed to be- his death. But it's gone in a flash. The blue light comes into view, but it's bleary.
The blurred Number is unreadable. Waves of nausea overcome the murky feeling of Luca's Death. My head becomes foggy and my limbs go numb. My stomach twists and clenches. My mouth goes dry and my body breaks out in a cold sweat.
The connection between Luca and I is broken. I was probably only touching him for a second or two before Andy pulled me away, but it felt like a lifetime had passed in my mind. My body is still showing the aftereffects of Luca's touch: mind racing and turbid, stomach tied in knots, body tense and aching.
I feel sick.
And my body shows this soon after; I push away from Andy's arms and throw open the bathroom door. After flipping up the toilet seat and emptying my stomach into the porcelain bowl, I slump down against the wall, resting my head. The vile taste of vomit burns my mouth like a sour fire.
Andy rushes in and frantically checks to see if I'm okay. I feel my gag reflex starting to contract so I lean over the toilet again. I wretch multiple times, but nothing comes out. Having my puke staring right back at me isn't the most pleasurable experience, but seeing pools of blood mixed in just makes everything dandy.
"I-is that blood?" Andy stares at me in horror, "Are you okay? F*ck, Dakota." He pulls me upright and leads me to a chair.
I can tell that he's going to try to fetch a nurse, but I tug him back by his hand. "I'm fine now, Andy. Just.... just come sit with me." I feel extremely tired. My body is shutting down. And all I want to do is die already.
~*~*~
After fainting twice on the car ride home and using my secret ninja skills to escape the house without Loonie finding out, I find myself walking through the forest again.
I pass the area where I first met Luca and quickly detour in a different direction. The sun is setting, casting a golden shadow over the trees and onto the forest floor. Eventually I come across a road- the same road that I rode on when I first arrived here. It's getting late so I decide to follow the road back into town.
I remember how in first or second grade, the teachers asked us what we wanted to be when we were older. Most of the responses were silly: astronaut, fireman, princess, pop-star. No one said a cashier at McDonalds earning minimum wage with close to no benefits, a plumber that goes in and out of work with a fear of getting laid off at any moment, or even a successful attorney that constantly works and doesn't have time to raise a family.
Later in school, we were asked to write about where we'd want to live when we grew up. Everyone picked exotic answers like New York, Paris, London, California, or Florida. Still, no one chose the small town in Nebraska with a population of 952 or a cramped apartment with low rent that you still aren't able to pay.
Now, we're asked what colleges we want to waste our lives at. B*tch, you ain't gonna get into f*cking Harvard or Yale. You'll probably end up going to some cheap a*s, small town college and live off of ramen and boxed mac n' cheese.
People need to get the f*ck over themselves. You're nothing in this world. You won't be the next f*cking Obama, Lady Gaga, Bill Gates, or whatever. You're going to live, then you're going to die. Whooptee-f*cking-doo.
Take this dead animal on the side of the road for example; he was probably once a raccoon or an opossum, but now he's just a pile of maggots, bones, and fur. Me and one of my foster-brothers, Garrett, came across a dead animal once. He was the energetic little brat that everyone loved, (regrettably) including me. After just one glance at the creature, poor Garrett screamed like a little girl and ran away yelling, "IT'S NARNIA!"
Sadly, no it was not Narnia. It was just some dead animal. So no, you're not Narnia either. You're just a corpse waiting to die.
I carefully avoid the deteriorating- cat?- and somehow find my way crossing the bridge I saw while I was walking around town. I slow my pace, taking deep breaths.
I could just end it all right now. One jump and the freezing waters of the Minnesota river could take away all the pain- all the self-loathing. The sharp rocks at the bottom would surely bash me up if the fall wasn't enough to kill me. Why should I wait? It's not like I'm doing anyone a favor for being alive for three more days.
Stepping closer to the edge I can see the brown water, marred with white-caps, rushing by swiftly. Shouldn't I at least do all the things I've ever wanted to do? Don't I deserve to enjoy the last few days of my life.
Don't get me wrong, I hate being on this Earth with all it's bull sh*t that it throws at me, but I can still appreciate some things. What if I made a list of things I want to do before I'm gone?
I sit down on the edge of the bridge with my feet swinging forty-five feet above the water's surface. This is probably not the safest thing to do, but at least I don't care if I fall.
Okay, first thing I want to do: Get laid.
That one's pretty obvious to anyone who wants to kill themselves; no one wants to die a virgin! The only problem for me is that I can't touch people without having a spaz attack. It seems like it'll have to be with Andy, sadly. Don't get me wrong, he's great, but I don't want to get any more personal than I already have with him. I don't want to have him hurting when I'm gone.
Next thing I want to do: Let everyone know how much they mean to me.
Loonie has been far more helpful to me than she thinks. I'd feel like an even more terrible person if I didn't says my goodbyes to her; and Andy too. Maybe I'll write letters to them and leave them behind when I die. I also need to talk to Luca soon.
This may seem like a weird request, but I want to get a cat.
Even if it is for three more days, kitties are my favorite animal and I've never had a pet before. Foster homes with multiple children aren't allowed to have pets unless their social worker says they're "stable" enough.
I don't really know what else I want to do, and the three things I have now are implausibly trivial. But maybe it'll stay that way; three things to do, three day to do them. It's simple enough, I'll start tomorrow - probably with the cat (it seems easiest). Maybe I'll check up on Luca too.
Speaking of Luca, his whole situation is just f*cked up. I mean, first he has some guy on crack telling him he's going to die the next day, then he gets r*aped by his own dad, practically is announced dead, and finally has to live with the horrid memories. It makes my life seem like a peach pie.
I hear tires rolling on the gravel of the bridge behind me. The car's obviously slowing down to reach me; whether it be a worried Loons or some child s*x offender, I don't plan on turning around any time soon. The sound of the engine cuts out and a door opens and is slammed close.
Andrew sits beside me, not nearly as far off the ledge as I am. "Dakota, its time to go back now. Loonie's having a hissy-fit 'cause you're not back yet."
I nod and start standing up, but vertigo over takes my sight and I teeter on the ledge. Andy grabs my arm and pulls me back, staring at me with wide eyes. Neither of us say anything about my near-fall but I can tell that Andy's really shooken up from it.
As much as I wouldn't have cared if it all ended then or not, I'm glad Andy didn't have to see me die right in front of him. His best friend almost died yesterday for Pete's sake. I can't allow for Andy to be f*cked up like me and Luca; he'll just have to someone else to marry and grow old with.
We get in the car and sit in an uncomfortable silence. I'm itching for a noose or a nice slice to the wrist and Andy's still beside himself with worry.
"Can you take me into town tomorrow, Andy?" I ask as I pick at my frayed sweatshirt with a gloved hand.
He agrees but is still off in his own little land. "I'm going to get a cat. Then we're going to visit Luca."
This get's his attention. "Why do you want a cat? And are you sure you're up to see Luca again after... after what happened today?"
I nod and say, "I'm fine. And I've never had a cat before. So I want one."
"Did you ask Loonie first?"
Sh*t. What if she hates cats or is allergic or something? "I'll ask her later tonight."
We both fall silent again as we come the the turn into Loonie's driveway. Andy pulls up in front of the house and parks the car. "Want me to come in?" he asks, biting shyly on his lips.
Don't let him in, fool.
"Not tonight, sorry. Meet me here tomorrow morning?" I find a bruise on my arm and discretely dig my thumb over it.
Andy smiles and says, "Sure; have a goodnight, Kota-Bear." He leans in and kisses me softly. His tongue runs across my bottom lip and I part my lips slightly. I allow my tongue to explore his mouth, earning a moan from him. Andy's hand rests on the back of my neck, shooting waves of warmth and lust through my skin, like his touch always does.
Pulling away, I assure him I'm fine with a small smile and an extra kiss on the tip of his nose. "Night," I say quietly as I leave his car. I hear him pull back down the drive way as I walk up the trail to the front door.
'Bout time you heard me again.
I pull off my gloves and dig my nails into my palm, creating four, bloody crescents on my skin. "I thought I ditched you back in Aberdeen," I mumble.
Not quite, sweetheart.
I cautiously open the door and immediately Loonie smacks the back of my head. "The f*ck you've been?"
"Just out walking," I defend myself, rubbing the back of my head. B*tch can hit hard.
Loonie huffs and walks into the kitchen, messing with the pots and pans. "Dumb teens these days; don't know there's killers and r*pists out there." She grumbles more worries and starts to make herself a grilled cheese sandwich.
"Sorry Loons," I say as I sit down on the bar stool, "Do you think we can get a cat?"
"Sorry, couldn't hear ya', what'd you say?" she asks after making more noise with the pans in the cupboard.
"Can we get a cat?" I ask again, crossing my fingers under the table.
"F*ck yeah!" Loons all but screams. "Cats are the best! I used to have one back in England until I had to move here! He was the sweetest thing; I named him Quark - as in the elementary particle? Oh he was a dashing fellow, bright orange fur and everything!"
"Cool, Loonie," I roll my eyes and sneak away from her endless talk about Cork, or Clark, or whatever the hell that cat's name is.
You should be near.
I groan and rub my hand over my face. I whisper quietly so Loonie doesn't hear me, "What the f*ck are you talking about this time?"
Stay.
"Screw you." I lay down on my bed, trying with every ounce in my body to ignore the Voice's annoying banter.
Three days, a*shole.
That's what you think.