Epilogue: I’ll Always be There for You
How cliché is this? Ciara wondered as she pulled the car to a stop. It’s raining.
She didn’t bother bringing an umbrella—more like she couldn’t be bothered.
The pitter-patter of the tiny water droplets on her car’s windshield made a dull rhythmic sound. Ciara shut the car door and made her way through the throngs of people
So many people, she thought.
The normally small church felt even smaller. She silently took a seat, picking nonexistent threads off her black skirt. Ciara saw the priest move his lips, but she couldn’t any coherent words. The room suddenly seemed claustrophobic. Ciara stood up, and ignoring the few stares shot at her, she made her way out of the backdoor.
She leaned her head against a pillar, praying that the cold breeze could clear her headache. Moments later, the door swung open.
“Are you okay?”
Ciara turned around and rested her back against the wall. “You came.”
Taylor rolled his eyes. “What kind of person did you think I was?”
Ciara tried to lift the tip of her lips. Taylor sighed and faced away from her. “You don’t have to pretend.”
Her legs felt even weaker, and she slumped down, pulling her knees to her chin. The short piece of rock above made a poor shelter. Ciara could already feel the water soaking into her clothes. Frankly, she didn’t care. She was tired of acting and trying to pull herself together in front of friends and families. The constant pitiful looks shot at her were even worse.
Ciara thought her body couldn’t hold any more tears, but before she knew it, tears were falling once again. It was as if Taylor’s words had turned on an invisible emotional tap. She felt Taylor’s arms around her shoulder. She didn’t look up.
“I’m at my limit, Taylor,” she said, pressing her hand to her chest. “It hurts.”
Waves after waves of excruciating pain would pound at her frail heart. It was pain that cannot be alleviated through any medical pills. She’d wondered if death was so painful. It shouldn’t, right? After all, emotional pain was way worse than physical.
“You wouldn’t want him worrying about you.”
“He’s not there anymore, Taylor,” she choked out.
At a distance, she could make out a small crowd of people and a black coffin. She turned away; she did not want to look.
“I disagree.”
“I’d do anything to change that night.”
“Ciara!”
She gradually raised her head. His voice, for the first time since that evening, was raised. As dizzy as she was, she could make out the anger in his tone perfectly. He removed his arms around her and forced her to look at him.
“Stop. This.”
“Huh?”
He grabbed her wrist and forced her to stand up.
“Taylor, what are you -?”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“This!”
Please don’t be sad.
Ciara shut her eyes, attempting to block out the messy scrawls that were now imprinted in her mind. Her throat constricted, and she bolted up.
“Don’t follow me.”
Ignoring the rain, she ran forward. Her clothes and hair were soaked in a matter of seconds, bur she ran on. She knew she had to get out of here. Taylor’s warnings went unheeded past her ear.
“Liar!” Ciara cried to no one in particular, punching the exit sign on the iron fence surrounding the church. “You said you’ll always be there for me! You said you’ll guard me forever! Liar, Jared, you’re a liar!”
Her anger vanished just as soon as it came, only to be replaced by a profound wave of sorrow. She felt like a lost puppy. Ciara reached into the folds of her clothes. The object slipped through her shaky finger. She gasped as a harsh gust of wind lifted the slim paper into the air.
She ran after the paper without any trace of hesitation. Ciara breathed a sigh of relief as her finger closed around the paper.
What?
During the past week, she’d avoided the paper as much as she could—it made everything appeared real. Because of that, Ciara never bothered checking the other side of the paper.
She loosened her hold just enough to see the familiar black scrawls. The wind and rain made the ink hard to read, and she immediately regretted trying to take it out in such weather.
“CIARA!”
She whirled around at the urgency in the voice. It was then she heard the roaring wind and the crashing rain and something else: the braking screech of a car’s tire. Fear gripped hold of her as she took in a two vital points of her surroundings.
One, she was standing in the middle of a road.
Two, a truck was racing quickly towards her.
Her arm was impulsively raised to shield her eyes against the blinding headlights. If she were to stretch out her arm, she could swear the tips of a few of her fingers could brush against the truck. Her gaze locked with the horrified look in the truck driver’s eyes. What does he see? Ciara wondered.
Jared.
“MOVE, CIARA!”
She twisted her head. As much as terror had locked her in place, she still did not want to witness her own death. Was this how Jared felt right before the bullet pierced him?
“…strange. I don’t know how she survived. The truck should have killed her on spot.”
“Truly a miracle,” another voice said.
“Oh, she’s awake.”
The first thing Ciara noticed was the nauseating hospital scent. Her guess was confirmed once she saw the hazy image of the bland hospital ceiling.
Ouch.
This was worse than the hangover she had the day after her seventeenth birthday. Both her arms were encased in tight bandages, and judging by the soreness she felt, she could only imagine her entire body covered in similar bindings.
“You scared -” Taylor broke off, glancing at Emily out of the corner of his eyes, “me. Yeah, you scared me.”
Ciara narrowed her eyes. He was going to swear, wasn’t he?
“Oh my god, Ciara, Taylor’s right. You have no idea how we felt.”
Ciara winced at her mom’s expression. If Emily were to look mad, she would understand, but right now, there was nothing but anxiety written across the woman’s face. Her normally young mom looked like she’d aged a few years.
“I am sorry.” She meant every one of those three words. She gripped the white blanket covering her. Droplets of tears fell on her lap, darkening the bland sheet. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ciara.” Someone patted her on her back. “Taylor found this by your… uh… unconscious body.”
Ciara took the slip of paper from Bessie. The rain had completely ruined the letters, and it was close to impossible to make out the words. Every small movement hurt her entire body. As quick as she could, she ripped the paper apart.
Bessie, Taylor, her mom, and even Jared’s mom all gawked at her. She knew what they were thinking: did the accident from earlier somehow messed up her brain?
“I’m starting anew,” she declared.
There was an audible sigh. “Are you sure? I mean -”
“I am,” she said. “H-He wants me to as well.”
The tip of her lips curved upwards—thankfully, the action didn’t hurt much. She turned to the open window. The sky was a shade of beautiful light blue.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Just press the bell if you need me,” Emily said.
“Sure, Mom.” She watched as Emily left the room. I’m sorry, she added in her mind.
“My plane’s leaving in a few hours, and I have to go back and pack.”
I totally forgot about that! Damn, how many times do I need to say sorry?
Taylor smirked as if he knew what she was thinking about. “It’s fine. Just get well soon.”
The door clicked softly, and it was only Bessie and Ciara. The brunette hopped to the stool by her bed, staring silently at her hands.
“I’m fine now, really.”
“Why the sudden change?”
Ciara turned her nose up. “I was young and immature.”
Bessie didn’t look fazed. “You’re talking about yesterday. Really?”
Ciara shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone else. He’s giving me another chance, a second chance to live.”
I’m sorry I doubted you. Just like you said, you’ll always be there for me, my guardian angel.
***
Ah, finally finished. This was originally supposed to be a short story, but I somehow couldn't make it shorter without the story seeming to be rushed. This is one of the hardest story for me to write cause of the lack of supernatural factor (the guardian angel thing doesn't count). Hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading :)