Goodbye Rachel
"Chloe Elizabeth Price, would you finally wake up for fuck's sake? "An annoyed voice reverberated through her surroundings. Beautiful and clear, oddly familiar but at the same time ethereal.
Chloe's eyes darted around behind her eyelids, yet she didn´t open them. She died, she shouldn't hear anything. That punk-ass bitch Nathan had shot her in a bathroom at Blackhell. Fucked up way to go, dying from a gunshot to the stomach. News flash, shit hurts. The last thing she saw as the strength drained out of her was a blue butterfly. Then, when her eyes fell shut, she only felt coldness and incredible, irresistible tiredness.
"Chloe, come on. I can see your eyes move. "the girl lying on the floor felt a pinch in her cheek. Her fuzzy mind only got fuzzier when she actually felt her head lying on hard, warm floor. Chloe could feel air streaming into her lungs, heaving her chest as she sucked in as much as possible. She could feel her tangled hair tickling her ear. She felt. Seriously, what the hell was going on? She should not feel or hear anything. This was so surreal, unreal. Dreamlike, even. What a fucking weird dream. On a whim, and because her curiosity got the better of her, she opened her eyes.
She saw. Not much, because the light above her was fucking bright, but she saw. After her eyes had adjusted to the blinding light, she made out a figure bent over her. Chloe was unable to discern that figures features though. The shape was...familiar. Her mind raced, trying to process all of this at once. She saw a familiar figure, heard a familiar voice (albeit slightly distorted) and felt stuff. She wasn´t dead - or was she?
Chloe tried to move her head. It worked, and she started to look around curiously. She was in a small, circular room, it seemed. The walls were painted a pleasant beige which contrasted nicely with the floor which was made up of old-looking, maroon wood. There were no pictures on the wall and she could see, oddly, no door or windows. Chloe was confused and more scared than she´d like to admit. Where the fucking fuck was she?
When she tried to sit up, the figure next to her held her down. Delicate and slim female hands pressed against her shoulders. Not overly forceful but with enough force to push her back to the ground. Chloe could only see one hand, a left one it seemed. Red nail-polish contrasted with the light skin. After a second thought, Chloe concluded she was a dumbass - the thumb she saw pointed to the right so it must`ve been the left hand.
"Finally, wide awake. Seriously Chloe, don't scare me like that." The voice playfully chided. It was so beautiful.
"Can you guess where you are?"
Chloe shook her head. She didn't trust she'd have any voice that she could make use of. It felt to her as if she'd wake up from this whatever-the-hell this was if she opened her mouth.
"Thought so. You, my dear girl, are dead. Hella dead. So dead they're actually carrying your corpse out of that bathroom right now." The voice was laden with sorrow and compassion, as if she knew how it felt. Dying alone in a fucked-up place, that is. This wasn't what Chloe noticed, though. And when it clicked and when she'd done the math in her still fuzzy, numbed mind, there was only one word she could say.
"Rachel…?"
Silence. Long, unbearable silence so thick you could cut it with one of those fancy-ass samurai swords. The voice didn't say anything, neither did Chloe. If the blue-haired girl was right about who she was actually talking to, she seriously would have no idea what to do. Rachel had been missing for half a year. And if she was here, with Chloe, in this place…that meant she was dead. Even if she wasn't sure, even if all of this could be one hella freak coincident, Chloe couldn't hold back tears welling up behind her eyes. If the girl who basically made her life less shitty, the girl she loved like no one before, the girl with whom she wanted to run away and start a new life was really dead…
"Rachel, is that really you? Are you…?" Chloe dreaded the answer to her whispered question. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes. Deep inside, she had a feeling as soon as the day after Rach had disappeared. Chloe printing out flyers and plastering them all over town, being completely in denial and trying to force her mind off that nagging feeling were protective mechanisms.
"…Yea. I forgot how quick you can be if you want to." A faint, sad chuckle accompanied these words. Rachel lifted her hands from Chloe's shoulders and sat down on the warm, wooden floor. A couple of seconds passed in which nothing happened. Rachel sat, waiting for a reaction. Chloe felt like zapped, as if a million volt have shot through her body. Her mind started to unfreeze again and she processed the information. Rachel was gone. And yet she wasn't – right now, she stretched and lay down next to her friend, carefully as to not bump into her. Rachel's long, brown hair sprawled out behind her, fanning around her head like a halo. She didn't say anything but merely inched closer to Chloe before she carefully took the flabbergasted, shocked, teary-eyed and most of all sad girl's hand in her own, giving it a long and hard squeeze.
"How? Why? Who? Where? When?" Chloe managed to croak out, not even bothering to hide the emotions encasing her like heavy wool would. Her eyes rolled to the left and she saw the top of Rachel's head and a bit of her face. Beautiful. As always. Rachel's eyes moved as far as they could to meet Chloe's glance before answering her questions.
"OD'd on some sick shit. To keep me silent. Jefferson and Prescott. Some fucked up place in the middle of nowhere; Jefferson called it his 'dark room'. Dunno, like four months ago? Can't really remember." Rachel's voice was matter-of-factly; she had come to terms with it. There was nothing she could do about it anyhow. With concern in her doe-brown eyes, she looked at Chloe. While listening, her face had become a bizarre mask, alternating between crying, screaming, silent fury and never-ending sadness.
Chloe's facial muscles got into motion again, swallowing hard. For one second everything was still before the tough-looking teenage burst into tears, her slender frame shaken by sobs. As if her body moved on it's own, she jumped up, accidentally knocking Rachel away. Chloe charged to the circular wall, and, unsure what to do, how to vent her frustration, she started pounding on the concrete, screaming in anguish and howling like a wild animal. Her fist continued to slam against the rough wall, tearing up skin and leaving red marks (Wasn't she dead? A ghost? Shouldn't she not bleed?). Chloe's throat became coarse and raw from the ongoing exertion, but she didn't care. Thick, fat tears streamed down her face, leaving small puddles on the floor. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Chloe couldn't lift her teared-up hands anymore. Her knees buckled in and she sunk down to the floor, curling up in a fetal position. She quivered hard and intensive as her crying rocked her body.
Rachel watched on wordlessly, though it tore her heart apart. As she closed her eyes, she had to choke back a couple of tears herself. The brunette knew how much Chloe had cared for her. She'd told her so, even told her after internal struggles she loved her. Their friendship – or was it more? – shouldn't have ended that way. Dear Chloe, poor Chloe. In her mind, Rachel went back, back, back to the day they met. When Rachel pulled Chloe out of shit at that Firewalk-concert in that worn-down mill. She instantly knew they were birds of a feather. Troubled, upset, fed up with everything. Oh how she had loved spending time with her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Chloe's sobbing gradually died down. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and slowly sat up, looking over to her equally deceased best friend. Rachel was still lying on the floor, a peaceful expression on her face.
"Where's your g-grave?", Chloe whispered, her eyes clinging to the girl across of her, waiting for any kind of reaction on her face. Nothing had pained her more than asking Rachel where her corpse was buried, ever. Deep down, however, she knew that she needed to know the answer.
Her eyes sprung open, pretty face clouded over with a nasty frown and finally, with an annoyed sigh, Rachel answered. "I don't know. I OD'd. The last thing I saw were those cunt's faces. Then I woke up, feeling like shit. In a similar room to this one, actually." She swallowed before resuming, "Then some weird thing told me I was something special, like a mystic or something like that and that I had power over the winds. I thought maybe those were the last sparks of my existence being completely fucked up by that shit Prescott pumped me." Chloe's eyes narrowed in confusion and blatant disbelief, but she knew from the way Rachel was speaking that she was dead serious, so she let her continue. While Rachel took a breath before continuing, the formerly cozy, warm room grew noticeably cooler.
"But then, it dug up that old story with the forest fire and how the flames went where I ordered the wind to go and all that crap. I didn't do it on purpose, but it seems my screams did something…" Rachel took another deep breath and continued. "Turns out I got some native American blood in me – cliché, right? – and that I'm some sort of guardian and whatnot. Or, used to be. Now, I'm what you'd call an angel."
Chloe almost laughed out. An angel? Mysticism, guardian over the winds? Her flustered, unbelieving look must have betrayed her since Rachel half-smiled at her from the ground, shrugging as if to say I know, right? Sounds like a load of horseshit. Somehow, however, Chloe felt that Rachel was serious. That Rachel really was an angel. Her angel. She couldn't describe how or why, but somehow, she just felt it.
"Yea. I'm an angel. Actually, when I died and got… here, wherever the fuck here is, I was told by whatever the fuck brought me here to keep an eye on you, keep you safe. And I succeeded" Chloe couldn't help but cock an eyebrow asking are-you-cereal-right-now? "Well, mostly. The thing is, I couldn't stop Prescott from shooting you. I don't know why, my power to alter your course suddenly…stopped." Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but Rachel cut her off with a wink and a hand-gesture.
"Before you sass me about 'yea but altering my course and fucking up some breezes are different things, d'uh', I know, it's true. Seems like I got somewhat of an upgrade when I 'ascended' to the 'stage' of angel if you want to call it that." Rachel did the appropriate hand gestures, fully aware of how idiotic she sounded. However, it was true. And she had to convince Chloe of it.
"Anyway, I don't have much time left. I managed to save you by rewinding your wind, heh, get it? The thing is, I'm gonna need to send you back down there, into your body, right before you enter that bathroom. You're going to get a second chance. And I want you to do two things." Rachel had propped herself up on her elbows, staring straight into Chloe's eyes. Her face was dead serious, a look Chloe knew all to well but hadn't seen in a very long time. Chloe had no choice but to nod silently so that Rachel understood she was all ears.
"Save Maxine Caulfield from Mark Jefferson and Nathan Prescott. She is Jefferson's next Victim. He is obsessed with the idea of capturing the moment a girl's innocence breaks and she abandons hope. And he knows that she adores him. Keep her save. I know she's your former best friend, and that your absurdly mad at her, and I can relate. But please, don't allow those sons of bitches to add another girl to their sick catalogue."
Chloe positively gagged. Max had been in town at least from the start of term until the day she got shot and didn't even bother to say hi? Fuck that. For all she cared, her so-called best friend could go to hell. Chloe heaved a sigh. Still, I can't just let her die; even if she was being a bitch. They'd patch things up, they always had. But that was just the first part, so she wonkily stood up and walked over to Rachel, sitting down next to her. Instinctively and without any hesitation, she lay her hand onto Rachel's and inched closer until she could rest her head on Rachel's shoulder. After a long, deep breath, already sensing the answer, she asked:
"What's the second thing, Rach?" Chloe's voice was raspy and coarse from all the crying and screaming. She was feeling better, but just so. It seemed that Rachel had accepted her death, which made things easier for Chloe even though she herself would likely not overcome all of this for a very long time. The brunette remained motionless for a moment before slowly turning her head to the head on her shoulder. She planted a sensitive kiss on the bit of blue hair which wasn't covered by Chloe's trademark beanie. They remained like this for a while.
"Find my body. And bury me properly. I beg of you." Rachel's voice was but a breeze. Chloe's body tensed up noticeably before shaking uncontrollably. Instantly, she was nearly opening the waterworks again. Her breaths got shallower and rigid, wheezing for air she so desperately needed to calm down. Rachel petted her thigh in an honest try to calm her down, but It didn't work out as she planned.
"Please. No. FUCK no. I don't want to see your rotting body. I don't want to see the face I love so, so fucking much, eaten by maggots. Please, Rachel, everything but that." Chloe hadn't noticed how her voice got louder and shriller with each voice until she was yelling again. She also hadn't noticed how she had jumped up from her seated position.
"Chloe…" Rachel pleaded with her to calm her down. "…please, you're the only one who knows I'm dead. Besides the bastards that killed me. And I'm sure they sure as hell ain't going to bury me properly. I can literally hear the call from the other side by now, where those go who aren't buried properly. They'll never be reincarnated. And fuck, I don't want to spend eternity here. So please. If you ever truly loved me, Chloe, do it."
"T-t-that's so f-fucking unfair." She cried again, but this time mostly out of rage. Why the fuck did all the bad things only ever happen to her? Why did her dad die, why did her mother remarry the biggest douchebag in all of Arcadia Bay, why did Max leave her, why did Rachel have to end up dead courtesy of Jefferson and that bitch Prescott.
"A-at least l-leave me the m-m-memory of y-your face, Rach. PLEASE. I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO LOOK AT PICTURES OF YOU WITHOUT KNOWING THAT YOU'RE DEAD ALREADY, AND NOW YOU WANT ME, YOU EXPECT ME TO OVERWRITE THE MEMORY OF YOUR FACE WITH A HALF-EATEN CORPSE'S?" Her yells and screams, her fury and rage, her sadness and grief roared through the small, circular room with beige walls and a brown wooden floor. Rachel said nothing, she only looked at Chloe, now breathing heavily and sweating profoundly, for a while. After a couple of completely silent seconds, when she deemed the time was right, she got up and turned to face Chloe.
"Yes. Because you're the only one who can put my soul to rest."
Chloe looked at her, dumbfounded. Had she not heard her? She looked at the girl in front of her. Beautiful. Brown hair framing a light-colored face with brown eyes and a cute mouth. Those eyes she was taking in right now were moist, with water collecting at the lower eyelids. Rachel obviously battled herself for composure. She locked her brown orbs with Chloe's, intently looking into the blue ones across her.
"Please."
It was all it took. Chloe swallowed hard and nodded once, barely visibly, all the while shaking ferociously. The blue-haired girl breathed in as deep as she could to stabilize herself before nodding again, this time convincing and assuring.
"Thank you, Chloe."
Rachel started to shudder and tremble, a few small tears running down her cheeks. Chloe did a couple of steps forwards before she fell into Rachel's arms, again crying a torrent. Through sobs and snuffles, through almost painful hugs, Chloe again and again told Rachel how much she missed her. After both were wrong dry, had a headache and were generally miserable, they separated. Rachel spoke up again, sniffing all the while.
"I, uh, got a present for you. I'm giving you my power to rewind time. It's dangerous and you can screw up biiiiiiiiiig time, but I know you. You always, in the long run, do the right thing. Use it wisely and make use of it to do what I asked you to do. And please, as hard as it sounds, don't try to fix the past. It will make things only worse. Around one hour is the most you can go back in time. It's all I can help you with. To use it, just focus on rewinding. For me it helped to stretch out my arm." She managed a weak smile, pointing at an imaginary watch on her wrist. "It's time I went. I'm in pain and it won't go away until I'm buried on consecrated ground and my soul is free."
Chloe nodded weakly. It still seemed completely and utterly fucking bizarre and fucking fucked up. She was tasked with things that she wasn't made for. She was a fucking drug abusing delinquent who was kicked out of high school and now she was supposed to be a hero? Still, she'd agreed to do it, and Chloe Elizabeth Price hated backing out of agreements with friends. She looked back up at the girl now holding her hand.
"So, this is goodbye for good?"
Rachel shrugged. "Don't think so. One day, you're going to die – hopefully of a natural course. And then we'll meet again. Until then, it is."
Chloe felt as if Rachel was slowly pulled from her. It was time.
"How do I get out of here?"
"Just rewind. When I'm out of this room, the power is yours. I won't come back though if you use it in here. Ah fuck, I'm bad at goodbyes. Chloe, I just want you to know that you were the best person in my life. I miss you, too."
Surprisingly, both their eyes didn't water up again. Chloe just watched as Rachel, at an increasing speed, vanished from sight. Before she was completely gone, Chloe couldn't resist. "I love you", she whispered. Rachel was gone as soon as she'd closed her mouth.
Chloe tried her very best not to freak out, and succeeded. For now. She stretched out her right arm and concentrated. A weird pull came from behind her and before she knew it, the room was gone.
And the noise of Blackhell academy surrounded her.
A/N: Seems I'm back at writing fanfiction. Anyhow, if you liked it, please drop me a comment and a follow, I try to update as often as possible. Constructive criticism is much asked for.