29: Cheyenne

I tried my best to hurry through the streets, but the rain poured harder than ever before, and every time lightening flashed, it blinded me. How I wished a bolt would strike me down. 

I scurried as fast as I could up the street, and up the driveway. The door was open, and I barged in. It was pitch black. They were gone.

I made a sickened face. The fact that Cliff was with her right now, probably having sex with her, made me sick. I loved her. Cliff didn’t love her. No, Cliff... I wasn’t sure what Cliff was doing.

What happened to the Cliff that I knew before? The one that went around and slept with everyone? The one that couldn’t handle a lasting relationship? What was he now? Who was he? It didn’t make sense to me. The f*****g dick. He took Ida away from me.

I wondered whether I should be mad about that. If he liked her, that wasn’t his fault. But I didn’t know a Cliff who was like this. It seemed out of place. It seemed wrong. 

Though, Ida was indeed better with him than she was with me. I would just hurt her. Maybe I wouldn’t have if I had had her. But I didn’t. Because of Cliff. Ida would stay with him, too. So there was no room for me. Not anywhere. Besides, he had kicked me out. There was no where to go, except back home. I wasn’t about to go back there. No. I had to tell Ida sorry. I had to end things.

I knew if I went back home then I couldn’t hurt Ida. But if I went back, it would hurt me too much. I was split. Stay here and kill myself, or go home and live depressed. Stay here and have Ida depressed, or kill myself. 

Kill myself. It seemed like the best answer. I had nothing to live for. I had no one like Cliff to make me happy. I didn’t have Ida. I didn’t have friends. I had people that I knew. People that knew me, but didn’t care if I left and never came back.

Death wouldn’t be so bad. It would be calming. It would be a huge relief. It would be a huge load off of my shoulders. It would be calm. Cool. Eternal Blackness. Nothingness. Eternal Nothingness. Maybe heaven. Maybe hell. Hell couldn’t be worse than where I was now. In hell, Ida would be safe from me. In hell, I wouldn’t be tortured with sitting on earth watching her be with Cliff. I couldn’t take it. To cope with it, I had been constantly drinking, and that got me even deeper into it.

The only thing going on in the house was my moving around, and the television was on. The only thing that kept me moving around, and not slitting my wrists was cold and hard determination to see Ida.

On TV was a live report in Saco of the weather. The reporter was standing in the rain, just standing there. Telling about it. It seemed so stupid. It seemed like something out of a movie. The live weather reports. But something was wrong. He was looking up. In a split second, he jumped out of the way, and a body crashed down onto the ground. 

I turned away from the TV. They had to stop the broadcast. My heart nearly skipped a beat. I ran to the phone, and dialed.

It rang. Rang. Rang.

“Cheyenne? Hello?! Cheyenne?!”

But Cheyenne was not in her house anymore. Cheyenne was gone. She had made it out, too. I saw the blur of her body coming head first into the concrete. I saw Cheyenne for the first time. Just as she died. 

Or possibly died. Attempted to die. It hardly phased me, though. I would be with her soon. I’d join her. I’d get to say “hello.” I’d get to finally meet her. So soon. Just as soon as I found Ida. Then, I’d go back out to the shack and take the gun. Bryan couldn’t be there all night, could he? I hoped not. His not being there was my ticket out of the world. His gun, locked away in the metal box. That was my ticket out. 

Cheyenne was dead. Now it was slightly phasing me. I lost someone. I had never actually met her, but she was close to me. Now, she was gone. I could never get advice from her unless an afterlife existed. 

This is why death is such a big re-enforcer for religion. Cheyenne was dead. If there was no religion, then she was gone forever. Right now, I wanted to believe more than ever that God was real. I was still torn somewhere between. It was hard to imagine some God would be so cruel and unjust. 

I found myself sitting on the ground, watching the development on the news. I snapped out quickly sort-of because I needed to find Ida, but also because I didn’t want to hear wether the woman was alive or not, and wether she was Cheyenne or someone else. I had a good guess, though.

It took me a moment to realize that I was crying. But by the time I did, I was already back in the car, and ready to head out. To head to Saco. I couldn’t go out and check all the restaurants, but I had been passed out for some time, and they were almost surely at Ida’s house. 

I realized now that a vaguely knew where she lived. She had told me, but I had never actually been to her house. That didn’t matter. I had to find her. Even if I was looking all night. Even if I had to go through Cliff. I had to talk to her. I had to tell her I was sorry.

I rushed into the kitchen, and grabbed my keys from the bowl. I tried my best not to slip and slide on the tiles, and slid my way out to the living room then out the door. Just before I slammed the door, a loud click went off. Suddenly, the TV went off. 

All the streetlights outside went black. Everything was dead except for the rain pouring down. It was invisible, though. I couldn’t even see my hands. Suddenly, lightening flashed, and illuminated the sky. I found my car, and rushed over before I lost it’s place.

I managed to blindly open the car, and blindly start it. The headlights flipped on, and were the only lights for anywhere around. I looked back, but it was nearly impossible to see anything behind me. Though, I was sure it was safe. I backed out, and pulled down the street. 

Rain swept in front of my car, and took on an appearance much like the ocean. It was dangerous out. I pressed on, as fast as I could, not really caring too much about safety. I needed to get to Ida, but death was never too bad of an option. I rushed as fast as I could out to the highway.

The water collected in ruts in the road, and moved like ocean waves. I set the car in cruise, and tried to calm myself a bit. I tried to make sense of the situation. Cheyenne was most likely dead. Ida hated me. Cliff hated me. Everyone hated me.

What was I doing? Why was I heading out here? Why was I not dead yet? Ida wasn’t going to listen. Was it even going to phase her that I see her before I go kill myself? Probably not. Still, I had to tell her. 

The situation was just so fucked up. I searched in my car, looking back at the road every couple seconds. I found what I was looking for.

A large wad of cash strapped in a rubber band was inside the glove compartment. I wouldn’t need it anymore. I wouldn’t need any money where I was going. I would give it to Cliff and Ida.

I began to turn around a small bend in the road. Suddenly, my back tires slipped from under, and began to slide toward the outside of the road. 

S**t.

I tried to bring them back; I tried to steer. My front tires lost traction next. 

“F**k!”

I screamed, as I realized I was heading right toward the ditch. I cranked the wheel as hard as I could, just hoping that I would somehow regain traction and stop hydroplaning.

I did. My car sharply turned to the left, and suddenly I was skidding all over the road. It slid as if it were on ice, and I was turned sideways, heading straight into a tree. I tried the brakes. Nothing worked. I knew nothing would work, but it was desperate. 

I stomped on the gas, and managed to get my car out of line of the tree. Though, I sped off, skidding down the road uncontrollably. I managed to at least get myself past the bend, and back onto the straight highway. 

I eased slightly on the brakes, in hopes that I could slow it enough to regain my traction. I tried to do so smoothly, and prepared for a loss of control. My back tires slipped out from behind me again, and I steered my car in the direction of the skid.

They regained their traction, and I steered rapidly in the other direction to straighten it out.  When I finally got back on track, my heart was ready to jump out of my chest. I was breathing heavily, and gripping the wheel so that all the blood drained from my fingers. 

I nodded my head slowly, and slowed down as gently as I could. The money was on the ground, but I was too frightened to pick it up. 

I couldn’t die not yet. No, I would have to talk to Ida first. I refused to die before I talked to her. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, and rolled my way into Saco. 

Now, the only problem was finding the street, which would be pretty difficult in the city. I tried the closest little suburb area, and went down, trying my best to see the street names in the darkness.

What would I say when I got there? What would I tell her? Would I even have time to say anything? I would have to. I had changed so much recently, that I would. I would fight my way in. Just so I could say sorry to the woman that I was in love with. 

It used to be where I couldn’t harm anything. Now I was getting into drunk fights and bruising women. I used to call myself a f*****g hypocrite for not killing myself. Now I was calling myself a f*****g a*****e for not doing it sooner. I used to hate people who went around the neighborhood telling about religion. Now I was fighting about wether I would be in heaven, hell, or nothingness. 

Everything had changed. All in the past month or so. What had I become because of all of it? I figured I’d be saying that everything had a lesson to it, and we became better people because of what we’d been through.

Scars make good memories.

But what about me? In what way was I a better person now? If anything, I was worse. If anything, I was a horrible person now. It was like what happened to Cliff. Now he was just a liar who slept with everyone. Or used to sleep with everyone. He had learned relationships and self-control. Ida had learned much, too. She had learned about death and love. Me? I had just turned into a monster. I didn’t learn anything.

Maybe scars could grow evil, just as well as teach lessons.

Maybe scars could make demons. Make shadows. What I had been through made me hurt Ida, and I hated it. I hated it all. I hated myself so much.

And I loved her so much. More than anything. So much that I couldn’t cope with her and Cliff being together. So much that I was willing to die for her. So much that I knew about happy endings, and their actual probability of happening. 

I loved her so much that I had turned into a monster. A monster that needed her. Craved her. Would do anything for her. To be with her. To kiss her. 

Even hurt her. Which was what happened. I could never hurt her again. But I could never go back home. I had no choices, it seemed. I couldn’t function without Ida, that was clear. My actions proved that. The drinking. The hurting. I was lost without her. I wasn’t about to let her slip away again. At least not without saying goodbye.

I looked down each street, but couldn’t find hers. If I didn’t find her soon, then I might never find her. I didn’t want to never see her again. 

I wished it was a month ago. I wished it was early June. I wished I was still counting off graduation money. I wished I was still depressed about being a shoe without laces. Useless for my design. I was more useless now than ever. I wished everything was how it was a month ago.

It was funny how I though I was so depressed then, and I wanted to kill myself then, and then everything happened. It was funny. I never knew so much could get so much worse. Maybe that was what I learned: things can always get worse. And they could. They did. 

I wished I had never called DHS. I wished I never knew Cheyenne, or Charlie, or Ida. I wished she had never met Leeland or Louis because then she wouldn’t have met me. I wished her aunt had never told her the truth about her father, because then she probably wouldn’t have met up with me. I wished that Cliff had never came in on us, because we probably would have stayed together. Not guaranteed, but probably. 

Now everything was just so fucked up because it had all happened the way it did. Yet it wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t depressed. I was taking control of things. And I didn’t have reason to be depressed, because things would be over soon. Very soon. 

Soon I would apologize. Soon I would say sorry. Then, Ida would know exactly how I felt. Then I would be free.

Soon I would be driving back to Shoreville. Soon I would be heading out into the woods. Soon I would be putting a gun to my head. Then I would be at the very end. 

Soon I’d say my prayers to my brother. To Cheyenne. Soon I’d say a silent goodbye to everyone I was leaving behind. Not because they would miss me, but because I pitied them. I felt sorry that they had to stay here on earth. In reality. In hell.

Soon, I’d be pulling the trigger. Soon, I’d be falling to the floor, lifeless. Dead. Bleeding from my skull, with brains on the walls of the shack. Then I’d really be free. Free from the grasp of life. Free from everything. Finally, I’d be able to soar higher than ever. Eternally. As high as I wanted, because I would be free. I wouldn’t be in hell. Soon. Very soon.

A street sign caught my eye, and I pulled down onto the street it signaled. Her house was on the left, I knew that. And I knew what her car looked like. I knew what Cliff’s looked like.

Soon. Very soon. Very, very soon.