I sometimes wonder what it feels like to die.
Under the burning shower, with cascades of water cocooning my body, I think: could death really be such a bad thing? Everything dark could be left behind. The pain, the memories, the mourning – everything. Maybe I'd drink too much one night and walk into the wrong alleyway, or perhaps my car would skid off an icy road and into a tree.
It could be simple. Quick, like the snap of a chord.
These thoughts run around in my mind more often than they should. It's like clockwork. Each night, the darkness creeps beneath my door, a mist that reaches for me with its twisted fingers.
At first, its touch is numbing – but the pain is always unbearable, no matter what. It's the midst of this, as the pain finally reaches its height, that I see her face. And when this happens, it feels like I'm already dead.
Every morning, I end up here.
The shower hisses above me and drops of burning water scald my skin. Here — in the small corner of my old bathroom in Crystal Lake, with the morning sun rising in east, — is where I feel the most alive. With the heat turned up to max, I'm able to escape the clutch of darkness, to fill my lungs with fresh air. It only lasts a moment, though. Because when I step out those glass doors, I'm ripped back into its claws.
***
Crystal Lake is exactly how I remember it.
Hidden in the middle of a small valley, the water is turquoise blue with a hint of green. It shimmers in the morning sunlight and small ripples from fish who grab at their breakfast extend from the centre to meet my feet dangling from the pier. The temperature is cool between my toes and the only sounds come from birds in trees and the bumbling of bees.
The lake has always been a solace to our family – especially in tourist season, when crowds overflow the beach and the heat is so unbearable the only thing that can quench it is a swim in the lake's cool water.
Until last year, I'd dive in with no second thought. I remember swimming to the very bottom, fingertips grazing the bed and grabbing for hidden treasures. More often than not, I'd find nothing interesting, but it was the idea I could that kept me going.
Now, though, things are different.
I don't think I could go deeper than my ankles even if I tried. Not since the accident, anyway. I take a deep breath, gripping the edge of the new wooden pier as I try to anchor myself into the present, away from the memories of last year's snowy night.
My lungs expand with air as I look around. Okay, maybe some things have changed. The rope, tied to the old oak tree which we used to swing from, is gone. Mom's gotten rid of our slide and in its place sits a hammock. And over there, right by Dad's vegetable patch, hundreds of daises sway in the breeze.
The sight makes me smile; Mom planted them last year and, for some reason, they just took. Now the grass is covered in those wild white flowers. So, yes: albeit the slight changes, the essence of Crystal Lake remains the same, and I think it always will. No matter what happened here.
I sigh. There are four hundred and eighty-three steps separating me from the house. If Mom wakes up and tries to check on me, will she panic at my empty bed, at the phone I left on my bedside? I wonder if she'll know where I am – if she'll run to Dad like she did before, already dialling 911. By the sound of a pair of feet falling heavily against the pier, I know someone's already figured it out.
'You're up early,' Elliot says, kneeling down next to me. He takes off his flip-flops and drops his feet into the water, making a small splash.
'Couldn't sleep,' I reply. 'You didn't have to come here, you know. I know you're busy right now.'
Elliot smiles, but it isn't a happy one.
In some ways, I understand how people think we look alike. We have the same streaks of blonde hair, our cheeks flush red in the same spot and we both have a brown birthmark on our shoulder in the shape of a cartoon water droplet. But, really, we couldn't be any more different if we tried. Elliot was awkward and strange when we were young, but now everything's changed. His lanky arms are now lean from swimming and there's an aura about him that feels different – older, somehow.
After he left to New York for college, I could barely go a day without a wide-eyed girl asking me in the school halls where he's been and if he's seeing anyone new. But me? I haven't changed a bit. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that's a bad thing. I like how I look; the colour my skin goes when the sun is at its highest, how freckles appear on my cheeks during Spring, the rise and fall of my hips. My problem isn't looks, but what's on the inside – because that's what actually counts, right?
'I wanted to be here.' Elliot shrugs, and my attention is drawn back to the swell of water lapping my skin. 'It's the last time I'm gonna see you for a while, so I wanted to say bye.'
I grin. 'Bye, then.'
He shoves my shoulder. 'Funny one.'
A moment of silence passes between us, then I say, 'I'll be back for Christmas.'
'That's over three months from now.'
'It'll go quickly.'
'And I'll miss you every week.'
I look at him with a raised brow and laugh. 'Every week?'
He makes a face. 'I was going to say every day, but you're my sister so that's weird. So yeah, I'll miss you. Not every day, but at least once a week or month I'll remember you and think: hey, I kinda miss her.'
'Glad to hear.' I shake my head, incredulous, unable to quell my smile. 'If it makes you feel any better, I think I'll miss home every day.'
A pause. 'Will you?'
He looks at me, gaze heavy, and I avoid his eyes. In the distance, a blackbird takes flight from a tree, and I watch it disappear into the sun.
'I don't know.' My voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. 'There's a part of me that wants to go, to leave this all behind and start new. And then there's another part that feels sick to my stomach a second later. Like I'd be forgetting her or something.'
'That's fair.' He recovers quickly. 'You've been through a lot, but you know you'd be doing her wrong if you didn't go. And, let's be honest, it's impossible to forget her.'
I look at him, eyes squinting against the sunlight. My pulse races just at the thought of her, so I try to change the subject. 'I think I'm going to dye my hair brown.'
'You're kidding.' He laughs. 'Don't blondes have more fun?'
I scoff, shaking my head. 'I've had enough of that to last a life-time.'
Elliot doesn't reply, so instead of talking, we both stare out to the lake for a while. As the sun rises, I wonder if he's thinking about that night too – how snowflakes whirled in the air, freezing the roads into icy black sheets. Does he hate me for not taking him up, for not forcing him to come? Or does he understand that I was only looking out for her, that I didn't know what would happen?
Elliot's never outwardly blamed me. If anything, he's constantly stepping on eggshells, trying not to upset me ever since it happened. Never a word too harsh, my brother has always had my best interests at heart. Even after what I did. What Daisy and I did.
I take a deep breath and look at him. 'You really think I should go?'
He turns to face me, eyes sharp as the water beneath us. 'You'd be crazy not to. Hell, Mom would kill you if you didn't. She's forgotten she has a son since you got the offer.'
'Liar.' I laugh. 'You're by far her favourite, what with all the money you won from swimming comps.'
'Well, you're obviously not as smart as everyone thinks.'
His foot hits mine in the water.
'Oh yeah?' I grin, hitting him back. 'Where's your scholarship to Woodcreek then – lost in the mail?'
He looks at me with a tight-lipped smile. 'Just because you're leaving tomorrow, I'm gonna to let that one slide.' We both laugh, but then his brows knit. 'Seriously, Hails. You're gonna be fine. I was nervous too when I left for college, and that's in New York. Woodcreek is in the middle of mountains – literally in the middle of nowhere. You couldn't be safer. If you don't count the bears, that is.'
I nod. He's right, I repeat over and over in my mind. I'll be fine. I have to be. I look out to the lake as the clouds cover the sun. Maybe if I say it enough, it'll feel true.