"Harper! Stay with me dammit!" I hear Thomas' voice, urgent but distant. The light of the day fades in and out as the pain envelopes me. I can feel my shirt soaking up the blood and getting stuck to me. I try to calm my breathing as I feel Thomas' hands pressing on my wound. "This isn't how you go out, Harper!" Thomas is still shouting even though he is kneeling right next to me.
"What the hell?" I hear someone else, I think Derrick, yell from further away. "What is happening Thomas?" I hear his voice move closer. There's a long bout of silence before I hear gasping crying not far from me. I realize my eyes are closed, and I try to force them open. "Rick, we gotta move. We gotta get them to the hospital. There might still be time."
I feel myself being lifted and carried for quite a ways. Whoever is carrying me is huffing and puffing, so I try to lift myself to help alleviate the weight. My movements cause a pain to ripple throughout my body though, and I feel my body give up on its own strength. My carrier sets me in the front seat, which they immediately set back so I'm closer to a horizontal position. A grunt followed by some labored breathing comes from the back seat, and I have a feeling Ray is back there now too.
"How are we going to do this? What if we don't get there in time?" The car engines roars to life, and I feel a lurch in my stomach as speed in some direction.
"Don't say that, Rick. We're going to make it. We have too." Thomas' speaks so low I almost don't hear him. I hope he is right. I'm not ready to give up on life just yet. Once again, I attempt to open my eyes, and this time I get them to a squeaky squint.
"Harper? You awake?" My body gets thrown around a bit as we round a corner.
"Yeah. Yeah." I want to say more, but the effort it took to answer that much was more exhausting than I thought it would be.
"Thank God. Stay awake. Talk to us," Derrick's voice comes across strong and commanding. I can detect the worry he is probably trying to hide from me.
"What happened out there Harper?" I peer over at Thomas from under my lashes, trying to form the words in my mouth.
"Ray, we – it was all an accident," I moan as images flash in my head. I shot Ray. Ray shot me. I'm not sure if those things happened. I was shot, and Ray was shot. We both had the gun. We struggled. The gun went off, but it went off more than once. Was it two times? Was it three? Everything happened so fast. How did Thomas and Derrick get there so quickly? How long were we there?
"Harper, stay awake! Stay with us!" The urge to listen to Derrick is strong, but not as powerful as the peacefulness that is beckoning me away from this nightmare. I run to this mysterious peace, wanting nothing more than to forget this horrible day. "Shit! Drive faster Thomas! Speed! I think we're losing her!" I feel the lurch of the car as we move faster down the road. The faint sound of sirens fills the air as we speed down the road. The faraway quiet calls to me again. I chase it, wanting it more than ever now.
"Rick, I gotta stop. State trooper, man." I can feel myself getting closer as Thomas' voice sounds further away. I just need to sleep. Sleep is okay, right? The warmth of the blood from my wound has taken over so much of shirt, like a weird, sticky blanket. The dark place I'm running too, it's so cool there. That coolness almost makes the warmth bearable.
"We die together." My eyes jump open as I gasp for air. A bright light above me is blinding after that darkness.
"She's back. Let's continue." Everything is too bright and too loud for me to decipher what's going on. "Keep that charged in case she crashes again." That same commanding voice I heard when I woke up yells out instruction after instruction. "Anesthesia stat!" No, I don't want that. I want to know what's happening. Someone tell me what's happening! Please! The words never make it out of my mouth before a mask is placed over my face, and I feel myself slipping back into the void.
Voices, I hear voices. A quiet hum of murmurs. It's almost impossible to decipher what anyone is saying. I can make out a few words here and there: vitals, process, family, police, psychiatrist. Do they think I need a psychiatrist? Are the police involved in some way now? Does my family hate me? I think I feel a tear fall down my cheek, and I try to will myself to wake up. I need answers. Something powerful is dragging me back into the sleeping abyss. No more sleep, I don't need anymore! I try to scream, but nothing happens.
Shadows fill my mind. Faceless shadows clawing out at me, trying to pull me deeper into the darkness. These shadows continue whispering, their voice menacing. I try to tune them out, but more and more of them appear, leaving me with no escape. Mistress. Whore. Cheater. Liar. Murderer. The shadows chase me and pull me, scratching and clawing at my very soul. The words they whisper becoming their own shadows tearing me apart from the inside.
"Harper, you gotta wake up," a distant voice calls to me. A light amongst the shadows. I try to muster up as much strength as I can and make my way toward it. The shadows don't want to let me go that easily though. Worthless. Slut. Dirty. Tainted. Broken. Killer. Their words push me down away from that small glimmer of light. The air begins to feel thinner. Tears stream down my face as I begin to lose hope once again. "Harper, come on! I know you can hear me somewhere in there," the voice calls out again. A warm familiarity helps lift me back toward the voice. I try with all my might to embrace that warmth and allow it to carry me back out of the shadows. Someone may be helping me to escape them for now, but I know they'll stay where they are, waiting for when I return. Eyes so full of love and understanding gaze down at me from the blinding lights. There's only one person in my life that ever looked at me like that.
"Pawpaw?"
"No, Harper, it's Thomas," he corrects me in a sad voice. "Pawpaw passed away. We had his funeral a week ago. Do you remember that?" I blink my eyes, as if adjusting my vision will assist with my memory. "Harper, do you remember?" Thomas' voice sounds strained. I wonder how long he has been talking to me here.
"Thomas..."
"Yes, I'm Thomas," his hand grips mine tightly.
"What happened?" I take in my surroundings, realizing that I'm once again waking up in a hospital room.
"Harper, I don't want to worry you right now. I just want to make sure you're okay." My eyes lock on his, and I can't help but smile.
"Aw, was someone worried about me?" Thomas rolls his eyes as he leans back in his chair.
"Well, not so much anymore. You did give us all a scare there for a minute."
"Thomas, what happened?" His smile fades as his face turns grim. He breaks his gaze, looking everywhere but at me.
"You – you really don't remember?" Thomas' hands twist nervously around the armrests of his chair. I turn my gaze to the ceiling, trying to force myself to remember. Unbreakable and undeniable bond. We live together. We die together. The words ring in my ears, memories of multiple gun shots echo around the words that won't stop.
"Ray," his name barely making its way out on my breath.
"He – he didn't make it, Harper," Thomas explains almost inaudibly. I feel my chest expand trying to get in every available breath. My heart races at the knowledge that a man has died at my own hands. Tears stream freely down my face as my hands clutch the hospital sheets. Spots begin to cloud my vision, as I faintly hear Thomas calling for help. I try to calm myself. I don't want them to put me back to sleep. I can already feel the shadows reaching out for me.
"Thomas," my voice cracks as my fear and stress build.
"I'm right here, Harper," he holds my hand as I feel the pull of the drugs bringing me under once again. "You're going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay." His voice fades not long after the lights. The darkness beckons me further under once more. I don't fight quite as hard as I did before though. I really am a murderer. Ray is dead. Maybe it was all an accident, but he's still dead. Was it an accident? A sinister voice whispers from somewhere deeper in the darkness. You wanted to be free of him. A different, yet eerily similar voice whispers to me. He loved you, and you killed him. He was right about you. You deserved each other. Derrick may have been willing to forgive you before, but can he forgive a murderer? I try to break away like I did before, but they are too much for me. They're right too. Ray was right. I'm damaged goods, broken, tainted. Now, I'm a killer too? How did I get here? Thank goodness Pawpaw passed before he could see what darkness consumes my soul.
"Harper, honey, can you hear me?" Mom? "Harper, it's time to wake up. Okay sweetie?" I feel her hand clench mine. I squeeze back so that she knows I'm waking up. "Thank God. Wake up honey. We're all waiting for you," her voice cracks giving away her held in emotions. "Harper?"
"Mom," I'm finally able to call out. I know she's heard me before my eyes even open; the sound of her sobs is now the only noise filling the room. "Mom, I'm okay." I squeeze her hand as I finally manage to open my eyes. Mom sits next to my bed, grasping my hand and covering her mouth as she sobs. Dad stands directly behind her, a hand squeezing her shoulder and a look of stoicism masking his emotions. Thomas, Hope and Stanton stand huddled together on the other side of my bed. Hope brushes some locks of hair from my face as Thomas takes hold of my free hand. Stanton attempts to be as stoic as our father, but silent tears fall down his cheeks.
"You scared me last time," Thomas scolds with a stern look on his face.
"I am sorry," I smile as best I can. Thomas' face immediately softens.
"You've scared us all," Hope whispers.
"I am truly sorry, to all of you." I look around, locking eyes momentarily with each of them. "I never intended..." My words trail off as do my thoughts. There are many things for which I had no intention. Where would I begin here?
"Perhaps all of you could give us the room for a moment," Dad almost commands. Hope, Stanton and Thomas all exchange nervous glances before sheepishly smiling at me. I turn my gaze to Mom who still holds tightly to my hand. I pat her reassuringly with my other hand.
"I'm just hanging out with Dad. No need to worry, Mom." Her smile tightens before she finally stands. My eyes follow her as she makes her way to the door where she pauses to look back at me once more. Mom shoots Dad a nervous look before quietly closing the door.
"Harper," I shift my focus back to Dad, who still stands despite the now vacant seat. "I need to know the truth of what happened." His voice is calm, but there is a coolness to it that I have only experienced once before. "Derrick is keeping the detectives busy for now, but they could come back through those doors any moment." My heart races. That's where Derrick is. But why are the police involved? Because you're a murderous whore. Remember? I blink back the tears as I also try to shove those voices back down.
"It all – it all happened so fast."
"Where did the gun come from?" His voice is steady, but I can feel some underlying emotion in his words.
"I – I don't know..."
"Harper, don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying," I retort through my teeth. "Ray brought it with him, but I have no idea where he got it. I didn't even know he had it until we were out there!" I try to explain calmly, but I can feel the hysteria threatening to take over.
"If Ray brought it, why did Thomas see you pointing it at... Ray?" Dad chokes on Ray's name a bit, and I can feel a part of my heart break for his loss. I think back to that moment in the gazebo. The moment Thomas arrived, everything changed. I could see why Thomas would see what he saw and think me the villain.
"Ray took the gun out and set it down between us. The fact that he even brought a gun – I panicked. I immediately lunged for the gun and held it pointed at him."
"Harper, do you realize how this looks?" Dad leans against the chair, looking down at the floor. "They want to arrest you. They want to lock you up for murder!" That word sends chills down my spine and the shadows rise back up to the surface.
"I never wanted to kill him. Hell, I never even wanted to shoot that damned gun! The only reason I even grabbed it was because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't." Tears fall freely down my cheeks as I take in the fact that I killed a man. I killed one of my father's oldest friends. "I never wanted any of this to happen. I know Ray was one of your best friends, but I feared for my life more than once around him. He claimed to love me, but he would hurt me over and over. I may have done some terrible things, but I would never purposely hurt anyone." I bite down on my lip to keep it from quivering as I wait for some kind of response from Dad. After what seems like forever, he finally sighs and looks up. Tears brim his eyes as he moves to finally sit in the chair next to my hospital bed.
"Harper, I don't know what to do here. I have no idea how to help you. This is so much bigger..." He cries silently for a few minutes. I decide to stay quiet and just let him let it all out. Time seems to pass slowly, but eventually he finally stops. Dad grabs ahold of my hand before saying, "I'm always here for you, Harper. All I ask is that from now on, you can't lie to me. Understand?" I nod silently as he gently pats my hand.
"What do I do about the police? What if they don't believe my story?"
"We'll get you a lawyer, and we'll figure this all out."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry for everything. I should've told you about everything from the very start. I just," I pause looking down at his hand holding mine. "I didn't know how."
"We can talk about it all later. I'm just so thankful that I even have a later with you. You scared us all there for a few days, Harper."
"Yeah, honestly I'm still a little scared," I think back to my inner demons pursuing me every time I've been forced to sleep. "Dad, could I ask a favor?"
"Of course."
"Could you ask the nurses and doctors not to put me to sleep anymore? I would rather go to sleep naturally. Being put under, it makes me anxious." He nods understandingly, making me smile ever so slightly.
"I'll go tell them right now. Your mother will be worried if I keep you to myself too much longer anyway." As he leaves, I close my eyes for a moment, ready to keep my inner demons at bay. Worry cocoons me as I begin to think about what I'll have to say to the police. They want to charge me with murder? Do I deserve such a charge? I did technically kill him, but I was shot in the struggle too. An image of Ray's sneer as we fought over the gun flashes in my mind. I quickly open my eyes to erase said image, not wanting to relive such moments until I have to.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" I quickly look to the doorway where Derrick stands. Bags have made camp under his eyes, and the lines in his face have never been more pronounced. Haggard, he looks haggard.
"No, I was just contemplating the mess I currently find myself in," I offer a meek smile in attempts to hide my stress. Derrick runs a hand through his hair as he looks at the floor.
"Harper, I've been racking my brain, I mean we all have. It just doesn't – I just don't understand."
"I'm not entirely sure I understand it all myself, to be perfectly honest. I get flashes of the moments before it happened, as well as the actual," I gulp not thinking I would ever have to say something like it, "the struggle over the gun. I do know that I was afraid, and that the moment he revealed he had a gun, I didn't hesitate to hold it between us. I never intended to use it. He grabbed ahold of me and the gun the moment Thomas distracted me."
"So, it really was an accident in the struggle?" I think back to the words Ray spoke just before the gun went off: We die together. Those words continue to haunt me, knowing that at least one of those shots could not have been an accident.
"I don't think I was meant to make it out of that mess alive," I almost whisper. I half expect Derrick to cross the room, to close the distance between us that I cannot. He doesn't move though. I don't blame him. One of his best and oldest friends has died at the hands of the woman they both thought they loved. I keep trying to justify the outcome in my head. It was both self-defense and an accident. How many times have I said that now, out loud or otherwise?
"You believe Ray intended to – to – to," he balls his hands into fists, white-knuckling them as his words fail to be said.
"I think, Ray was confused and unstable," I try to sound as reassuring as possible while speaking the very difficult truth. "I know I am to blame for most of what has happened with all of us, past and present. I never would have willingly resorted to such a terrible end to all of this. Ray felt as though I was the wedge between y'all, and a beginning wedge between him and Dad. I cannot blame him for feeling that way. I ran away for the amount of fear, confusion and guilt I felt once before, and that was so much less back then. I would have sooner left again than put everyone through what y'all are all dealing with now."
"So, then what happened? What changed enough to bring us here?" Derrick's face looks almost angry, until I see the sadness that clouds his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I continue, "Ray snapped. Everyone was finding out the truth before he could take control of how. I was an easy scapegoat for how messed up the entire situation was. You were jealous that I finally cried in front of Ray at Pawpaw's funeral, but the truth was I was terrified of him that night. At some point, my grief took over the fear without my controlling it, and that was why I cried with him. Ray told me that night that if I was somehow removed from the equation, things would be great with y'all again."
"I'm not entirely sure that would have been the best solution."
"It doesn't matter. He made up his mind that night. Neither of you could have me and still have the same friendship. When he found out that you stayed over with me, he snapped. I think his plan was supposed to be that we both die, and for me to look like the guilty party. I played right into his plans because I was so angry with him." I bury my face in my hands, sobbing from my own recounting. "I – I never," I gasp for breath between sobs daring a glance back up at Derrick, "I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I know how much Ray meant to you and to Dad. I only," I gasp for breath again as I watch a silent stream of tears run down Derrick's face. "I only wanted happiness. I could have found it again somewhere out there, and you and Ray could have gone back to being almost brothers. Time would have eventually healed wounds, and past mistakes might have had the opportunity to be forgiven."
"Mistakes can still be forgiven," Derrick practically whispers.
"A man is dead because I fucked up! I didn't shoot him, and I never really wanted to shoot him. He shot me and then himself, but I'm still just as guilty here. Ray and I would have never been out there if I had just treated y'all like uncles or my professors or something from the moment I stepped onto campus until now." A knock on the door interrupts our conversation.
"Excuse me ma'am," an officer steps through my hospital door with a somber look on his face. "Oh, and sir," he adds with a note of surprise as he realizes Derrick is in the room as well. A second officer follows the first in the room, leaving the door ajar.
"What can we do for you officers?" Derrick asks, straightening himself.
"Actually, we hoped to talk to Miss Knighton alone," the second officer interjects. Derrick shoots me a look of concern, but I just smile and nod my head. He takes his leave and the officers shut the door behind him.
"Miss Knighton, we know you've been through quite a bit, but," the first officer pauses before moving closer to my bed with a notepad in hand, "we need to ask you a few questions."
"Officers, perhaps it would be easier if I just told you what happened." They exchange glances with almost surprised expressions.
"Yes ma'am, that would make it easier." Taking a deep breath, I ready my mind to relive all the moments I only wish to forget.
"It all started a few years ago..."