I'm So Sorry
Sam stood silently with her hands locked in front of her as she stared uncomprehendingly at the casket lying a few yards before her. This wasn't real; this wasn't happening. It had to be a dream. She was not standing in front of a casket that held her oldest and dearest friend. She was not at a funeral with all of her neighbors. She was not living this nightmare. She just couldn't be.
And yet everything in front of told her that this was undoubtedly real, that she was really living this whether she wanted to believe it or not. There was indeed a casket, with a preacher standing solemnly beside it. She was in a church. And, most importantly, Jake was not standing next to her. He was supposed to be there to support her, to hold her – but he wasn't. Instead he was in the front; the only one there aside from the preacher.
He shouldn't be in that casket.
It should have been Sam who was lying in front. It was, after all, her fault that Jake had died. If she'd said yes when he had offered to drive to her home, she might have been the one killed, not Jake. The timing would have been different. He would have been turning left, not right. If only he had turned left, everything would have turned out all right.
Or what if she'd been the one driving? She had seen that Jake may have had a little too much to drink, but she let him drive anyway. Even if she didn't let him take her home, she had still let him drive. How could she have been so stupid? She should have taken his keys and told him there was no way he was driving. She shouldn't have given in to him just to please him. Why, oh why, out of all the times she had purposely displeased him, couldn't she have chosen this time to rebuff him as well? Why had she chosen to appease him just this once?
"I'm so sorry," Sam whispered, not paying any attention to the preacher's mournful words. The tears which had refused to come earlier now came in full force. She fumbled for a tissue and wiped her eyes while at the same time whispering over and over again, "I'm so sorry, Jake. I'm so sorry."
When the time came for the casket to be put in the ground, Sam couldn't bear to watch. So she turned and fled. She couldn't go home, as the church wasn't within walking or running distance of River Bend, and she wasn't about to take her dad's truck and make it publicly known that she had left. So she ran into the woods that bordered the edge of the church property, not caring at all that she was wearing good clothes. She ran a little ways until every trace of the funeral procession vanished behind her, and then she sank to her knees. Gram wouldn't be happy that Sam was ruining her skirt, but she didn't care. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was Jake - and the fact that it was her fault he was dead.
She was the one who had persuaded him to go to the party. Darrell had invited both of them, and normally Sam wouldn't have been interested, except Jen had told her she was going. That had worried Sam, as Jen had recently suffered through a nasty breakup with her boyfriend of two years. Sam had wanted to be there for her friend so Jen wouldn't end up doing something at the party she would end up regretting.
Only Sam hadn't wanted be Jen's moral support alone, so naturally she just had to talk Jake into coming with her. He had loathed parties like that with a passion, and initially he had given her a flat-out no. But eventually he had gotten sick of her hounding him about it, and an hour before the party was supposed to start, much to her own shock, he had finally said gruffly, "Fine."
Sam couldn't help but wonder if he would have given in to her if they hadn't been an official couple. Before, when they had been just friends, he rarely gave into her, and when he did it was usually because he had no other option. But ever since they had starting "dating" nine months ago, Sam had noticed that he had been slightly more agreeable. Not too much, not enough that anyone else would have noticed, but enough that she had noticed.
What if they hadn't become a couple? Perhaps if they'd just been friends at the time of the party, he wouldn't have gone to it. She would have gone by herself and everything would have turned out okay. She wouldn't be feeling this hurt, this pain.
Or what if they had become a couple sooner, but then broken up? There was nothing saying that they wouldn't have eventually broken up. If only they had gotten together a couple of years ago, then maybe they would have been broken up right now. The breakup would have hurt her terribly, but anything would be better than this.
Sam took a shuddering breath as she let the tears fall freely. Through her sobs, she choked out, "Can you hear me, Jake? Do you have any idea how sorry I am? Do you know that I will always be calling your name? I will always be calling you." She coughed. "I will call your name with my very last dying breath."
And then the loud, choking sobs overcame her until her mouth refused to form even a single word. The sobs wracked her body; the pain felt like it would tear her apart. The hole inside of her would never be filled. Wrapping her arms tightly around her, she cried for her dear lost friend and wished that his arms could be around her instead of her own.
She didn't know how much time had passed when she started to calm down. It may have been hours, or may have been mere seconds. Soon the only signs left of her misery were the occasional sniffles and the puffiness of her face, and she dragged herself over to a tree where she leaned back against it and pulled her knees up to her chest. Closing her eyes, she rested her chin on her knees.
What had it been like when he had died? Had he had a chance to be sad or scared? Was it quiet and cold? Was it light, or was it dark? Had he been aware of what was happening at all? Did he feel any pain? Did he say a panicked prayer in his last moments?
Had he reached for Sam?
Sam let out a gasp at her last thought, feeling guiltier than ever that he might have wanted her when he was dying. Not only was his death her fault, but she may have caused him even more pain by not being there with him.
She should have been there.
The sobs, which had only so recently subsided, returned, consuming Sam's body once more. She buried her face in her knees and cried.
She cried for herself, for the pain that she was in. She cried for her family, who had lost a good friend and worker. She cried for the town, which had lost a valuable member. She cried for Jake's family, who had lost a cherished son and brother. And she cried for Jake himself, who shouldn't have had to die like that.
And when her sobs died down once more, the only thing that she could whisper was, "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, Jake. So very sorry."
Author's Notes
Well, that was a cheery first story to post. The song that inspired this is "Joey" by Sugarland, and this is part of moleking's challenge. I hope it's not too bad (or too...good? I mean, it's not like it's supposed to be a happy story :D).
I don't own these characters, nor do I own the song that inspired it. I'm not making profit off of this.
Thanks so much to Kavazya for being my beta-reader! You definitely made this better than it was before ;)
And thank you so much to those who read this!
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