Chapter 9

                                    Chapter 9

 

When my mother went into labor after nine months of torturous sobriety and sleepless nights, my father rushed my mother to the hospital. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning, but everyone knows babies pick the worst times. Once there, she was put into a wheelchair and pushed into the hospital room where I was to be delivered.

My father held my mother’s hand throughout the entire process as she shrieked from the pain. After a couple hours of sweat and tears, out popped a little baby girl. Me. My parents decided not to find out the sex of the baby. My mother wanted to know, but my father insisted it be a surprise. “One of the few surprises you can still get in life,” he had said. She said being pregnant was surprise enough, but she let him win this battle.

My father laid down beside my mother and there they remained for the rest of the night. Nothing but a couple of kids attempting to raise another kid.

“What should we name her?” asked my mother.

“Hmm.” My father thought about it for a very long time.

A nurse walked by and stood in the doorway. “How are you folks doing?” she asked.

“Good,” my mother said, rubbing the top of my head.

“Have you two decided on a name yet?” she asked expectantly.

“We were just discussing that,” inquired my father. “Any suggestions?”

“I have a list of the top baby names here, if you would like?” she proposed handing over a pamphlet sitting along the wall. There must’ve been fifty or so pamphlets there. My mother took the pamphlet and began reading off a list of the top names. Emma, Ava, Isabella, Mia, Sophia. No, no, no, no, no. My father reached over and grabbed the pamphlet. Inspecting the names he came across one that he found suitable.

“How about Charlotte?” he asked. My mother pursed her lips and thought about the name. It was pretty, and it was unique.

“I like Charlotte,” she said.

So it was decided. I would be Charlotte Rose. Charlotte because of a damn pamphlet and Rose after my mother’s mother.

The two strapped me into the new car seat they bought and ventured home. There a room was set up for me. Walls unfurnished because they wanted to wait to see if I was to be a boy or a girl. A wooden crib stood on the far side of the room with a changing table next to it. Adjacent, there was a single window with see through white curtains hanging to the wooden floor. A dresser stood on a different wall with a lamp beside it. And in the corner, a rocking chair. My father brought it home one day after work, he said he thought it’d just be the perfect touch to the baby’s room.

“This is your new home Charlie,” my father said bringing me into the room.

“Charlie,” my mother whispered. “I love it, Vinnie,” she said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

For the first time in her life, my mother seemed happy. She hadn’t thought about drinking or heroin or slashing her wrists. All she thought about was her new family and the love dancing around the room.

Although that feeling didn’t last long. My father had to work that night, and my mother was naïve. She didn’t know how to raise a baby. The second I started crying she didn’t know what to do. Tried feeding me, changing my diaper, singing to me, but nothing seemed to sooth me and that’s when she lost it. She poured herself a glass of wine to clear her head. Just one glass, she thought. But one turned into two and into three until she laid there passed out on the bed as I cried.

My father came home to a shrieking baby and a highly intoxicated wife. He fed me a bottle and rocked me back and forth in the rocking chair until I drifted to sleep. He was angry, but he was also tired. He helped my poor mother under the covers and placed a glass of water beside her bed. Then, he crawled into bed and held her until he himself drifted into tranquility.

He decided against bitching out my mother for her habits because he knew how hard it was for her to give up drinking for nine months. He assumed it was a one-time thing. The next night, he kissed me and my mother goodbye and headed into another night of work.

My mother waited until he was gone to pour herself a glass. She missed the bitter taste so much. The night before had been nothing but a tease and the taste lingered on her tongue. She had to have more, so she did. She drank wine until she couldn’t walk straight and a few shots to blur out my cries. Then she relaxed, sitting on the bed. And when she felt like she was sobering up, she jammed a needle into her arm. That soothed her as she laid down watching the ceiling fan spin. Trying to follow the rotation of one particular blade but losing sight of it each time it completed a revolution.

A knock on the door jolted her awake. She had fallen asleep on the bed drenched in her own puke. She shut her eyes tight thinking it must all be just a dream. But the knocks persisted and soon she heard an enormous bang. Quickly she stood, but her feet were unsteady and she fell to the ground. The room was spinning around her and a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” My mother tried to say something but the words refused to escape her lips. Just a slight hum was heard as the officer helped my mother to her feet. The room reeked of vomit, and my mother was placed in handcuffs. That’s when my father arrived home.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked looking at the two officers. “Did you guys knock the damn door down?”

“We got a call from a neighbor saying they heard a baby crying and they weren’t sure if anyone was home. We knocked several times, but no one answered the door. We had no other choice,” he stated.

“Jules, what the hell happened?” my father asked furiously. But she was in no state to answer his question. She couldn’t hardly walk.

“Sir, we are going to take her down to the station for questioning,” he said. “As for the child, we find this environment unsuitable.”

“I can take care of my own goddamn kid,” my father shouted enraged.

“Sir, please relax. It’s in the child’s best interest if we take her down to the station,” replied the second officer.

“Bullshit,” my father said. “It’s my daughter. You can’t take her away from me.” He took a step closer to the officer.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you�"”

Before the word could be said, my father geared up and hit the officer in the face. The officer fell to the ground and wiped his hand across his cheek. It was covered in blood. The second officer tackled my father to the ground and pinned him on his stomach. My mother stood along the wall watching the entire incident. Both of my parents left that night in handcuffs, and I was taken down to the station, being held in the blood stained hands of a cop.

 

                                 …

 

I drove to go see Alex. I was still sore from the accident, and I don’t think my limbs could have managed the walk there. It was getting dark out now and the moon was just beginning to emerge from its concealed hiding place. It was only a sliver tonight, hardly visible to the naked eye. I shifted the car into park, and turned off the ignition. I didn’t think I’d ever visit Alex once, let alone twice in the same week. As I walked toward the hundreds of headstones, I realized I had forgotten to bring roses again. I debated turning back, but I figured it was already late, and no stores would be open anymore.

I was the only living soul in that graveyard. One soul surrounded by death. I didn’t know if I believed in ghosts or not, but now was not the time to consider such topics. Walking down the gravel path towards Alex’s headstone, I saw movement. Someone was here. My heart started beating fast, and I didn’t know what I should do. Should I run? Hell, where would I run to? I’m surrounded by black fences and whoever it was could get me before I could reach my car. I saw the figure stand up and turn. I think he was facing me now, and my heart rate increased even more. I felt like this person was staring into my soul. Was it a ghost? Don’t be ridiculous Charlie, I thought to myself. The figure took a step towards me and I took one back. It was too dark to make out his face, and I feared what would happen next. A couple more steps the figure took towards me, but this time I didn’t move. My feet stood frozen in place as I felt death approaching me. Maybe it’s the devil coming for me once and for all. Thirty feet was all the stood between me and the silhouette. I could feel my legs shaking beneath me, but the figure didn’t stop walking. I heard a rustle behind me, and I jerked my head around finding nothing but some fallen leaves. The air was warm yet my body shivered in the night.

I took a step forward, thinking this was it. This is how I was going to die. Stranded in an empty graveyard where no one would hear my screams. No one would be able to hear my begging. My heart was beating out of my chest, I thought I was having a heart attack. I closed my eyes for just a second and I felt the hand firmly grab my arm. My eyes widened as I jolted my head around afraid to meet the eyes of my killer. But I wasn’t faced with the eyes of any killer. Just the accustomed blue eyes I admired so deeply.

“Damn it Noah,” I screamed, completely petrified. “You scared the s**t out of me.” He loosened his grip on my arm. I let out a sigh as my heart rate finally began to slow down. I tilted my head and breathed in the night air slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You scared me too.”

“What are you doing out here,” I asked.

“The same thing you are,” he responded quietly. I rubbed my temples in my hands and tried to think for a second.

“You were here to visit Alex?” He nodded. I let out another sigh. “Will you come with me?” I asked. I needed to be with Noah right now. I was petrified, and I didn’t want to sit by her grave all alone.

“Sure,” he responded, taking my hand. It felt weird. Even though Caleb and I were no longer together, I felt like I was deceiving him. I still couldn’t picture being with Noah, but that kiss. God, I can still taste his lips on mine. I thought of Noah at the funeral.

 

                                 …

 

The rain had soaked my cardigan and my dress became rumpled, but I decided to follow Noah back into the funeral home. I didn’t want to go back inside. I didn’t want to have to face Mr. Summers again. I didn’t belong there. But Noah reassured me that everything would be just fine so I followed him inside. Not for him or for anyone else. Solely for the sake of Alex.

Once inside, Noah took me to one of the bathrooms in the funeral home and handed me a towel to dry off. My hair was wet and in knots, and I hated that feeling on my neck. Noah dried off his face and readjusted his suit in the mirror. He was tall. I had seen him once or twice before at school. I knew he was on the football team because I’d seen him at games. Back during sophomore year when I still managed to get out of the house and socialize every once in a while.

I knew he was dating Alex. They had always been the talk of the school. Everyone thought they were going to end up married one day. I’d never seen a happier couple, or so I thought.

Back in the main room, I spotted Mr. Summers again sitting in one of the chair up front. As long as he wasn’t looking at me, I thought I would be alright. That I could get through this day.

The funeral home was cold. It’s like someone cranked up the air conditioning despite the fact that it couldn’t have been more than fifty degrees outside. I shivered underneath my dress and the goosebumps enflamed my body. My face was pale and I felt sick standing in that room among Alex’s family and friends. There were a lot of people there from school. I recognized all of their faces, but I couldn’t recall most of their names.

I saw Jacqueline, Alex’s best friend. A tight knee length black dress with open toed heels. Her toenails were painted black and I assumed she had just gotten them done for the occasion. She sat in one of the chairs up front with a tissue in her hand. Mascara was running down her cheeks and I wondered why she even bothered to put any on. Unless she wanted everyone to know she was breaking down. That’s the thing about being one of the popular girls. Everything they do is because of their image. Going to any extreme to protect that sacred image. It’s disturbing in a way. I think that’s why Alex went through with it. She was tired. So tired of protecting that image she put on display. I can’t even imagine how much work it must’ve been. Convincing everyone that your life is perfect and swell when in reality nothing is right. No one knew that her father worked those long hours and that her mother was long gone buried in the ground. She’d go home to an empty house each night hoping for anyone to save her. But she was already past gone.

I watched Jacqueline intently. Did she know that her best friend was so depressed that she would take her own life? There’s no way she had known. And I guarantee Alex had told her but she just didn’t listen. Kind of like the way I hadn’t listened when she confessed to me. That must’ve taken a lot of strength. A hell of a lot of courage and I didn’t even give it a thought. For God’s sake it was Alex Summers talking. The prettiest, most liked girl in school. Why would she have any reason to be sad? And I wasn’t about to pity her, because that’s what I thought she wanted. Just the attention. God, if I had only known she was reaching out, she might still be here today.

“You okay?” asked Noah. He was standing beside me, and I had forgotten.

“Yeah,” I said letting out a deep sigh. He placed his hand on my shoulder, gliding it back and forth. I didn’t think it was odd at the time, but looking back on it now, it was a little too soon.

Noah led me to one of the chairs in the back row. He said he’d be right back. That he had a few people he needed to talk to. I watched him walk over to one of his buddies. I think his name was Derrick. Wide receiver on the football team, starting point guard on the basketball team. Already had a scholarship to some division one school out in California. The two slapped hands and went in for a hug. Derrick said something to Noah, and he laughed. How inappropriate, I thought. His girlfriend just killed herself and he’s laughing at her funeral. He hugged a few other people and conversed with them for a while. All smiles. I wondered what Alex would’ve thought of that.

Finally he came back, and sat down beside me. This was the first time I gazed into his eyes. Blue and deep with a sparkle of green tint. I bet they’d be gorgeous when they weren’t bloodshot. He had to have been smoking.

“You okay?” I asked, concerned. His hand shifted to my thigh, rubbing it slowly. He smiled and nodded. That’s when the procession began.

It was long. I thought it was never going to end. Not that it was dull or uninteresting, but because I couldn’t stand hearing about Alex knowing she was gone forever. Many of her closest friends went up to the podium to say their versions of a eulogy. Most were short and quick. Just expressing a memory that the two shared together. Going to football games together, coffee runs before school. Others were long and drawn out because the speaker couldn’t hold it together. Sympathetic nods flourished through the crowd. I hardly listened to the stories. They all ended with how tragic it was to see her go and how much they missed her. If only she knew that, I thought. If they really missed her, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to kill herself.

I couldn’t stop staring at Mr. Summers. He wept the entire time and to my luck, he never turned around. Maybe he knew I was there. Maybe he couldn’t stand to look at me just as much as I couldn’t stand to look at him. Despite being surrounded by hardship my entire life, this was the first time I had encountered death. I watched how its effects grasped Alex’s father and destroyed him. He wasn’t just emotional like any grieving father would be, but he was hysterical. First he lost his wife, and now his baby girl. He never got up to speak. I don’t think he could’ve gotten through a sentence anyways.

When everyone had finished speaking, it was time to head to the graveyard to bury her body. The casket had been closed. Alex’s face had been completely altered from floating in the river. Her father thought it best to keep it closed, for everyone’s sake. I’m glad because I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted if I had seen her.

“Do you want to ride with me?” he asked as we both stood up. I looked at him and bit my lip.

“I, uh, wasn’t planning on going,” I said. I already shouldn’t have been here, and I really wasn’t in the mood to stand out in the pouring rain watching them lower her body into the ground when she should still have been alive if it wasn’t for me.

“Charlie, you have to go,” he said grabbing my hand. I looked at his hand, his thumb on top of my fingers, gently grazing them. I pulled away.

And that’s when he turned. Mr. Summers turned from the front row and our eyes connected again. A tear fell from his left eye, and I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I said, turning and walking out of there. Alex deserved the entire world and it had been completely stripped from her. Most of the other people there didn’t care about Alex either. If they had cared, they would have known how much she was struggling on the inside. I couldn’t stand being surrounded by all of them. It just reminded me how I was one of them, and I couldn’t ever live with myself knowing I was just a cheap imitation of those close minded people.

I ran through the rain towards my car. Fumbling with my keys, I finally unlocked the doors and sat down in the driver’s seat. I had just turned sixteen in August, so I had only had my license for about two months. I quickly started the car, and turned on the heat. I was still freezing underneath my cardigan. A combination of the air conditioning, the rain, and my uneasiness.

I saw Noah walking out of the funeral home looking through the parking lot to find me. And then I saw Mr. Summers following closing behind. God, it was all too much to handle. I sped off as fast as I could without ever looking back.

 

                                 …

 

We walked back to Alex’s grave, hand in hand, listening to the silence of the graveyard. Reaching Alex’s headstone, I saw the flowers still lying where they had been the other day, and my letter still sat underneath. Only it was flipped over this time.

“That’s odd,” I said reaching for the letter.

“What is?” Noah asked looking over at me. I picked up the envelope that I had sealed and put the letter in only to find it opened. I looked inside, but the letter was gone.

“What the hell?” I asked looking at him. “Where’s my letter?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?” he asked looking back at me. His mouth twitched and I knew he was lying. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He was the only one here. He had to have taken my letter.

“Noah, where the f**k is my letter?” I asked again. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. I knew damn well that he had that letter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. He didn’t twitch that time. Didn’t even break eye contact with me. He was good, but I knew the truth. I wasn’t going to let him fool me. I reached for his pocket and felt something that resembled a piece of paper, but before I could attempt to grab it, Noah shoved me away. My head hit hard on the ground. Noah stood up, shocked that he had just done that. “I�"I didn’t mean that Charlie,” he said apologetically.

I reached towards the back of my head with my right hand and could already feel the bump forming. I sat up slowly. My body ached and now I wondered if I had a concussion. Noah helped me to my feet and let out a sigh. “Okay,” he said reaching into his pocket. “I have your letter.”

I snatched it from his hand quickly and felt the thin page with my fingertips. “Did you read it?” I asked. He looked down at the ground, and my head fell too. “How could you do that to me?” I asked angrily. “That was private.” Tears were forming in the back of my eyes. Now was not the time. I couldn’t cry here. Not in front of Noah. Not in front of Alex.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand and paced back and forth. “I didn’t know it was from you, Charlie. You’ve got to believe me,” he said remorsefully. I believed him. I really did. But that didn’t make up for what he did. He had no right to touch my letter. No right to unseal it from its secure place. No right to read the words I wrote. They were for Alex. Not him.

I didn’t know what to say. I started walking towards my car. I couldn’t believe him. He was the only one left who hadn’t deceived me, and now it was done. I trusted him, and he lied to me. Straight to my face.

“You’re not the reason she’s dead, Charlie.” I stopped in walking for a moment. He had told me that many times before, but I never believed him. I was the reason she was dead. She told me she was depressed and I did nothing about it. She reached out to me and I didn’t reciprocate. I am one of the biggest reasons she’s not here today, and I can’t even look myself in the mirror without remembering that fact. Her memory haunts me every single f*****g day, and I have to live with knowing I could’ve saved her, but I chose not to. “You’re not the reason, Charlie,” he said again. “I am.”

I turned around. He wasn’t the reason she killed herself. No. He couldn’t be. He did nothing but love that girl. He was the only flickering piece of light she saw in this dark, cruel world. Why would he say that? He had never said that before. Even when he’d convince me that I had done nothing wrong, he never blamed himself. Why did he blame himself? “What do you mean you’re the reason she’s dead?” I asked confused.

He closed his eyes. I was frightened to hear what he was about to say. He exhaled deeply. I could still smell the scent of rosewood. It never gets old. “I cheated on her,” he said softly. “I cheated on her, and I regret it every single day.”

“What?” I asked. I didn’t expect that. “With who?”

“Some girl on the cheerleading team,” he said ashamed. “It doesn’t matter who,” he said. “I did it. I pushed her over the edge. I am the reason she killed herself.” I took a step away from him. I'd known Noah for two years. He could be a real prick sometimes, but I never pegged him as a cheater. He loved Alex. Anyone could have seen that.

He was still pacing back and forth. Under the moonlight, I couldn’t really see much of his face. However, I could tell that his lips were trembling and his left fist was bloody. I didn’t ask from what. “Noah�"”

“I don’t even know why I did it,” he said. “I was young and stupid.”

“Listen, Noah�"”

“That girl didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Noah,” I nearly shouted, but he wouldn’t stop.

“God, I don’t know why I did it, Charlie, I�"”

I grabbed him by the neck and forced my lips onto his. He was taken aback, but I refused to let go. A wave of passion and deceit and regret transgressed between our lips. Bouncing back from one unfaithful mouth to the other. His hands landed on my hips, steadying his shuddering legs. I felt like time had stopped. No breeze shook the leaves from the trees. Nothing but the warm night air resting on our backs, pulling us closer together. Two perfidious lovers connecting their immortalities above the ground where their victim lay. The creation of the ultimate sin. A kiss.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Does any kid ever like their own name? I doubt it. I was named after a grandfather who had the temerity to die the day before I was born. I wouldn’t mind so much, but it was only after a life lived, that as an adult I found out he was an abuser, who treated my Gran like a baby factory and spent most of what he earned on drink. I think it is safe to say, I out-achieved him, probably in my first week of life 
And there you have it, one drink and the train derails. And the thing about a train wreck, is that those in its wake get hurt too. You can’t outran a train bearing down on you, even if you know it’s coming.
Noah is right, it isn’t about what others think, it was about being there for your friend. Sometimes we have to fight to remember that, but in the long run, it is worth the fight to come out the other side.
We question every word, every expression afterwards, analysing it all in the hope that we can find some answer, or realise that it was a cry for help, but the sad truth is, that some people are far better at concealing pain than others, and that there is no shame in the guilt the bereaved feel. It is natural, it is human.
And then the bombshell of finding out what pushed her over the edge….Great chapter ending and character development. Found out a lot in this chapter. Looking forward to finding out more 
Great read so far.

[Sarah]

Thank you for the review! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

[Lorry]

Oh, I'm sure I will :)

[Rebecca]

the graveyard scene inspired me. no one really dies though. An idea is you could put a scene of Alex's POV in Heaven or Hell :)

[Splatman73]

I'm still loving this story and I have to admit, it's making me think about how much attention I give my friends. One friend in particular actually. But yeah, as they say at McDonald's, I'm loving it.

[Christopher Miller]

How telling that as they're struggling to name their baby, Charlotte's parents ask the first person they see to do it for them. That speaks volumes, and it doesn't seem calculated so much as a manifestation of the personalities that live in your mind. The kind of thing that comes out automatically, and it's only when you look back that you can say 'yes, that is exactly what they would do.' The kiss came as a surprise, given how angry she was at him seconds ago, and what he'd just admitted. Unreasonable, but then what application does reason have at such a time? I'm anticipating an interesting conversation, or inner monologue, when reason tries to reassert itself.

[Sarah]

Thank you for the review! All of these comments and reactions are really going to come in handy during the editing process. All much appreciated!

[Mifa]

Wow...moving on and moving on.