Author's Note: Here's the next chapter! It's from David's POV. Please
read and review!! Thanks. hm
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David sat up straight, combed his hair back with his hands, then leaned over, buried his face in his hands, and started sobbing. He kept replaying his new memory of Lizzie's second funeral; he kept seeing images of him standing there before Lizzie's grave, again, and thinking how cruel it was that he had to grieve Lizzie's death not once but twice in one lifetime.
Am I cursed? Wondered David. Am I going to have to live the rest of my life with memories of both of Lizzie's deaths? Oh my god, did I save Lizzie's life only so that she could die once again?
He angrily leaped off of the couch and yelled at the top of his lungs, "NO!! I can't take this anymore!!! Whoever you are that's putting me through this nightmare, I can't take this anymore! Do you hear me? I can't! I won't! Whoever you are, just leave me alone!!"
David crumpled to the floor and furiously pounded on the hardwood tiles with his fists. "I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I *can't* *take* *this* *anymore*!!!"
He felt a throbbing heaviness in his chest, and with his right hand he clutched at his heart. Oh god, it feels like I'm dying, it feels like I'm dying from the inside out. My heart feels so heavy, it feels so black inside . . . with that thought, he began sobbing and heaving uncontrollably. He was feeling the same pain he felt during both of Lizzie's funerals, except it was worse because he was remembering and grieving and crying now for the two times that Lizzie had died, for the two times that Lizzie vanished from his life.
Lying there, on the floor, he was consumed with an overwhelming, unquenchable longing to be with the girl, with the woman, he loved and still loved with all of his heart and with all of his mind and with all of his soul.
While still on the floor, he heard another crack of thunder bursting outside. He then turned his body over and was now lying on his back, his arms and legs outstretched, his body making an "X" on the floor.
And he just laid there, completely still, staring blankly at the ceiling fan light, weary, beaten, demoralized. Beads of sweat and tears streamed down from his brow and face, as he looked like a marathon runner who had collapsed after having ran for hours in grueling, blistering summer heat.
Another burst of thunder rumbled outside. David vigorously rubbed his forehead with both of his hands, trying to massage the unwanted memories out of his mind, but it wasn't working. The memories remained etched in his consciousness, they just would not go away.
He suddenly was hit with a wave of claustrophobia and he started choking for air. I need to get some air, I need to go outside, muttered David. He slowly picked himself up off the floor, then dragged himself to the back door leading out to the back porch. He gingerly twisted the doorknob and swung the door open.
A gush of bitterly cold air greeted David as dusts of rain sprinkled all over him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the cool crisp air, then stepped outside into the dark night and into the hard rain.
He stood a few feet from his door and tilted back his head to let the rain fall squarely on his face, hoping that the rain would wash away his unwanted memories.
Instead, standing in the rain, he began thinking about that rainy night twelve years ago, that night when he thought he had saved Lizzie's life. His face contorted itself into a forlorn grimace, as thoughts of having to live the rest of his life knowing that Lizzie had died twice was sapping his energy and draining him of his will to live.
And as he stood there, motionless, getting pummeled by the storm, the rain picked up its intensity and starting hitting David harder and harder.
David opened his eyes to see a brilliant flash of light illuminate the entire night sky. The flash lightning lingered for several seconds, blinding his eyes with its unbearable brightness.
As the lightning started to subside, he then heard a voice forcefully whisper to him, "It's not over yet, David."
He whipped around to see if someone was behind him. "Who said that?"
No one was there.
He then scanned the entire back porch, and still he saw nothing. "You're just imagining things, get a grip on yourself."
BOOOOOMMM!!
"What tha--?" The sudden rattle and boom startled David as he felt his body shaking from the latest crack of thunder. As the thunder slowly disappeared into the dark clouds, he then heard the voice again. "It's not over yet, David. You have a second chance."
David quickly scanned the entire back porch once again. Still, not another soul to be found. Am I going crazy? What is going on? And second chance? What's that about? A second chance at what?
As he pondered the meaning of what he had just heard, the rain kept coming down harder and harder. "Ouch!" David rubbed his cheeks as it felt his face was being poked by thousands of sharp little needles. I think it's time to head inside, he muttered.
As he took two steps towards the door, he came to an abrupt halt. A second chance? It's not over yet? His eyes lit up as the meaning of those words slowly started to sink in and to make sense to him. He quickly began thinking about that night again, about everything that happened after he had stopped Lizzie from driving away.
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That night twelve years ago, both Lizzie and Gordo went inside and dried off. Lizzie's cold took a turn for the worse after having been out in the rain, and so he remembered offering to stay the night with her, to make sure she was okay. And while Lizzie took a long hot bath, he remembered taking Lizzie's car and driving back to his parent's house for a change of clothes and to pick up some flu/cold medicine for Lizzie.
While there, he tried reaching David on the ham radio, to tell him that he had prevented Lizzie's death, but for some reason, he wasn't able to make contact him. After a few minutes of trying, Gordo gave up, packed his bag, and headed back to Lizzie's house. And after that night, although he kept trying, Gordo was never able to contact and talk to David again.
That night, Gordo stayed up with Lizzie through the early morning, keeping her company and taking care of her. Although she was very sick, she couldn't sleep, and she kept dozing in and out of sleep the entire night. However, while the two didn't fight, they felt awkward with each other that night, and they felt a distance between them that had never been there before.
The following morning, after Gordo had made some light breakfast for Lizzie, David remembered the two sitting on the couch and having a bittersweet conversation. He could remember that conversation as if it happened a few minutes ago. He remembered it in great detail because it was the conversation that to him clearly signaled the end of his close friendship with Lizzie. After that moment, the two remained friends, but they spent less and less time together with each passing day, never regaining the sense of trust and intimacy that they had shared before.
The conversation began as Lizzie sat on the couch and took tiny bites of her toast. Gordo, sitting next to her, watched his friend intently and then said, "Uh, Lizzie, you know, I should be going home."
Lizzie finished her last bite of toast, then responded, "Oh, Gordo, please, please, please don't go. I still feel awful, and I don't want to be here by myself, all alone!"
With all of his heart he wanted to reach out and grab hold of her and tell her that he wasn't going anywhere and that he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her. But, his mind trumped his heart's desires, and he responded matter of factly, "Uh yeah, I know, but, um, I have lots of things I've got to do today, you know, and I told my parents I'll be back in the morning. They said they have plenty of chores for me to do around the house, stuff I've been neglecting since I've been spending so much time on my ham radio."
Lizzie responded with a pained look on her face. She could feel the emotional distance in Gordo's words, something she had felt the entire night. Yes, both of them were still stinging from their fight, but she thought, they were still friends, why's he acting this way?
"Oh, Gordo, please, I'll help you do your chores later. I'm sure you're parents won't mind if you stay with me, just tell them I'm deathly ill and that I'll surely die if you're not here with me!" Lizzie laughed as she playfully put the back of her hand to her forehead, rolled her eyes, and then "fainted" onto the couch.
Try as he might, Gordo couldn't help but let out a half-smile. But, the smile quickly disappeared, as he kept thinking about what happened the night before, about the terrible things he said to Lizzie, about the fact that he had almost *killed* her. And as such thoughts swirling in his head, he couldn't be himself, he couldn't allow it, because he kept thinking, what if I say something awful again? I'm still jealous of that Jimmy guy, and I can't trust myself, not right now. This is for Lizzie's sake, she needs to not be with me right now.
"Oh, come on Lizzie, you'll be fine, honestly, I really don't think you'll die if I'm not here."
"Gordo! You're not just going to leave me here alone, are you?" She snapped at Gordo, starting to feel angry that her friend would abandon her like this.
He looked at her concerned face, bit his tongue, then began to say something to her that he really did not want to say. "No, you're right, you shouldn't be alone today. But, I really do have to get home, so, um, why don't you call your, um, boyfriend, you know, Jimmy, and ask him to come over." It was extremely difficult for Gordo to call Jimmy Lizzie's "boyfriend," and he cringed inside when he said that word. And he felt like he was stabbing himself in the back by encouraging her to call him. But, he kept muttering to himself, this for Lizzie, this for Lizzie, this is who she needs right now, not you, not the person who almost got her killed.
After hearing his suggestion, Lizzie responded with silence. She felt like he had just thrown a stone at her face; she didn't know why, but it was as if Gordo was rejecting her, it was as if he was telling her that he no longer wanted to be her friend. It seemed irrational, but she couldn't help feeling this way, especially considering all the hurtful things that he had said to her the night before. Yes, he said those things in the heat of the moment, but, isn't that when you let your true feelings out?
Is that how he *really* thinks about me?
After a few more deathly awkward seconds, Lizzie responded, "Okay, Gordo. That's a great idea. And it works for both of us, since you get to go home and get out of here. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Lizzie, no that's not it at all, I do want to be here, you know, because you're really sick, but I really have things to do, and I'm sure you'd rather be spending time with Jimmy than with me, right?"
"Yeah, that's right," whispered Lizzie. A lone tear streamed down her cheeks. She closed her eyes then softly asked Gordo, "Hey, um, could you hand me the phone? I want to give Jimmy a call."
What the hell are you doing Gordo!?? Stop it, don't give her the phone, tell her you didn't mean anything you just said and that you would give anything to stay with her right now! However, he kept refusing to listen to his heart, and he got up, picked up the phone and handed it to Lizzie.
"Thank you, David." She took the phone and punched in Jimmy's number.
Gordo sat himself back on the couch and wondered to himself, when was the last time she called me David?
"Oh, hey, Jimmy? It's me, Lizzie!" Gordo turned his head towards Lizzie, only to see her face brighten up into a huge smile upon hearing Jimmy on the other line. He turned his head the other way, grimaced, nervously rubbed his hands together, and kept thinking to himself, see Gordo, you did the right thing. She wants to be with Jimmy, not you, she deserves to be with someone who wouldn't say those things to her.
As Lizzie happily chattered away on the phone, Gordo got up to leave. Lizzie saw him get up. She said, "Oh hang on Jimmy, Gordo's about to leave." She looked at Gordo and said, "Thanks, this was a great idea! Jimmy's coming over right now, so you're free to go! I'll see ya later, okay?" She then turned away from Gordo and started talking into the phone as if he had already left.
He felt hurt by Lizzie's cold goodbye, but he understood why she was being that way. "Bye, Lizzie. I'll call you later to see how you're doing, alright?"
"Sure, whatever David," said Lizzie, who, without turning to look at him, absentmindedly waved her hand goodbye, almost as if she was shoo-ing him out the door.
He winced, as hearing Lizzie calling him David felt like the worst sort of insult he could ever receive from his best friend. In a painful daze, he turned around, and like a zombie, and trudged out the door. It was still raining outside, but he didn't care in the least bit. As he reached the sidewalk, he turned around, whispered "goodbye, Lizzie," then continued his slow, somber march home.
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As he continued to stand there on his back porch, remembering what happened that morning, David opened his eyes, stared up into the oncoming rain, and screamed into the stormy night, "Oh my god, what in the world were you thinking, man? You practically threw her into Jimmy' arms! It's your fault she dies for the second time!"
But, it's not too late, remember? You still have a second chance! With that thought, David ran back into his house and sprinted into the bathroom for a quick shower.
After he put himself into some dry clothes, he began to pace around the living in deep thought about how he could save Lizzie's life once more.
I'm going to do it, somehow, I'm going to do it. It's not her destiny to die, I know it, I'm going to save her again, I have to save her, for her, and for me . . . .
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David sat up straight, combed his hair back with his hands, then leaned over, buried his face in his hands, and started sobbing. He kept replaying his new memory of Lizzie's second funeral; he kept seeing images of him standing there before Lizzie's grave, again, and thinking how cruel it was that he had to grieve Lizzie's death not once but twice in one lifetime.
Am I cursed? Wondered David. Am I going to have to live the rest of my life with memories of both of Lizzie's deaths? Oh my god, did I save Lizzie's life only so that she could die once again?
He angrily leaped off of the couch and yelled at the top of his lungs, "NO!! I can't take this anymore!!! Whoever you are that's putting me through this nightmare, I can't take this anymore! Do you hear me? I can't! I won't! Whoever you are, just leave me alone!!"
David crumpled to the floor and furiously pounded on the hardwood tiles with his fists. "I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I *can't* *take* *this* *anymore*!!!"
He felt a throbbing heaviness in his chest, and with his right hand he clutched at his heart. Oh god, it feels like I'm dying, it feels like I'm dying from the inside out. My heart feels so heavy, it feels so black inside . . . with that thought, he began sobbing and heaving uncontrollably. He was feeling the same pain he felt during both of Lizzie's funerals, except it was worse because he was remembering and grieving and crying now for the two times that Lizzie had died, for the two times that Lizzie vanished from his life.
Lying there, on the floor, he was consumed with an overwhelming, unquenchable longing to be with the girl, with the woman, he loved and still loved with all of his heart and with all of his mind and with all of his soul.
While still on the floor, he heard another crack of thunder bursting outside. He then turned his body over and was now lying on his back, his arms and legs outstretched, his body making an "X" on the floor.
And he just laid there, completely still, staring blankly at the ceiling fan light, weary, beaten, demoralized. Beads of sweat and tears streamed down from his brow and face, as he looked like a marathon runner who had collapsed after having ran for hours in grueling, blistering summer heat.
Another burst of thunder rumbled outside. David vigorously rubbed his forehead with both of his hands, trying to massage the unwanted memories out of his mind, but it wasn't working. The memories remained etched in his consciousness, they just would not go away.
He suddenly was hit with a wave of claustrophobia and he started choking for air. I need to get some air, I need to go outside, muttered David. He slowly picked himself up off the floor, then dragged himself to the back door leading out to the back porch. He gingerly twisted the doorknob and swung the door open.
A gush of bitterly cold air greeted David as dusts of rain sprinkled all over him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the cool crisp air, then stepped outside into the dark night and into the hard rain.
He stood a few feet from his door and tilted back his head to let the rain fall squarely on his face, hoping that the rain would wash away his unwanted memories.
Instead, standing in the rain, he began thinking about that rainy night twelve years ago, that night when he thought he had saved Lizzie's life. His face contorted itself into a forlorn grimace, as thoughts of having to live the rest of his life knowing that Lizzie had died twice was sapping his energy and draining him of his will to live.
And as he stood there, motionless, getting pummeled by the storm, the rain picked up its intensity and starting hitting David harder and harder.
David opened his eyes to see a brilliant flash of light illuminate the entire night sky. The flash lightning lingered for several seconds, blinding his eyes with its unbearable brightness.
As the lightning started to subside, he then heard a voice forcefully whisper to him, "It's not over yet, David."
He whipped around to see if someone was behind him. "Who said that?"
No one was there.
He then scanned the entire back porch, and still he saw nothing. "You're just imagining things, get a grip on yourself."
BOOOOOMMM!!
"What tha--?" The sudden rattle and boom startled David as he felt his body shaking from the latest crack of thunder. As the thunder slowly disappeared into the dark clouds, he then heard the voice again. "It's not over yet, David. You have a second chance."
David quickly scanned the entire back porch once again. Still, not another soul to be found. Am I going crazy? What is going on? And second chance? What's that about? A second chance at what?
As he pondered the meaning of what he had just heard, the rain kept coming down harder and harder. "Ouch!" David rubbed his cheeks as it felt his face was being poked by thousands of sharp little needles. I think it's time to head inside, he muttered.
As he took two steps towards the door, he came to an abrupt halt. A second chance? It's not over yet? His eyes lit up as the meaning of those words slowly started to sink in and to make sense to him. He quickly began thinking about that night again, about everything that happened after he had stopped Lizzie from driving away.
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That night twelve years ago, both Lizzie and Gordo went inside and dried off. Lizzie's cold took a turn for the worse after having been out in the rain, and so he remembered offering to stay the night with her, to make sure she was okay. And while Lizzie took a long hot bath, he remembered taking Lizzie's car and driving back to his parent's house for a change of clothes and to pick up some flu/cold medicine for Lizzie.
While there, he tried reaching David on the ham radio, to tell him that he had prevented Lizzie's death, but for some reason, he wasn't able to make contact him. After a few minutes of trying, Gordo gave up, packed his bag, and headed back to Lizzie's house. And after that night, although he kept trying, Gordo was never able to contact and talk to David again.
That night, Gordo stayed up with Lizzie through the early morning, keeping her company and taking care of her. Although she was very sick, she couldn't sleep, and she kept dozing in and out of sleep the entire night. However, while the two didn't fight, they felt awkward with each other that night, and they felt a distance between them that had never been there before.
The following morning, after Gordo had made some light breakfast for Lizzie, David remembered the two sitting on the couch and having a bittersweet conversation. He could remember that conversation as if it happened a few minutes ago. He remembered it in great detail because it was the conversation that to him clearly signaled the end of his close friendship with Lizzie. After that moment, the two remained friends, but they spent less and less time together with each passing day, never regaining the sense of trust and intimacy that they had shared before.
The conversation began as Lizzie sat on the couch and took tiny bites of her toast. Gordo, sitting next to her, watched his friend intently and then said, "Uh, Lizzie, you know, I should be going home."
Lizzie finished her last bite of toast, then responded, "Oh, Gordo, please, please, please don't go. I still feel awful, and I don't want to be here by myself, all alone!"
With all of his heart he wanted to reach out and grab hold of her and tell her that he wasn't going anywhere and that he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her. But, his mind trumped his heart's desires, and he responded matter of factly, "Uh yeah, I know, but, um, I have lots of things I've got to do today, you know, and I told my parents I'll be back in the morning. They said they have plenty of chores for me to do around the house, stuff I've been neglecting since I've been spending so much time on my ham radio."
Lizzie responded with a pained look on her face. She could feel the emotional distance in Gordo's words, something she had felt the entire night. Yes, both of them were still stinging from their fight, but she thought, they were still friends, why's he acting this way?
"Oh, Gordo, please, I'll help you do your chores later. I'm sure you're parents won't mind if you stay with me, just tell them I'm deathly ill and that I'll surely die if you're not here with me!" Lizzie laughed as she playfully put the back of her hand to her forehead, rolled her eyes, and then "fainted" onto the couch.
Try as he might, Gordo couldn't help but let out a half-smile. But, the smile quickly disappeared, as he kept thinking about what happened the night before, about the terrible things he said to Lizzie, about the fact that he had almost *killed* her. And as such thoughts swirling in his head, he couldn't be himself, he couldn't allow it, because he kept thinking, what if I say something awful again? I'm still jealous of that Jimmy guy, and I can't trust myself, not right now. This is for Lizzie's sake, she needs to not be with me right now.
"Oh, come on Lizzie, you'll be fine, honestly, I really don't think you'll die if I'm not here."
"Gordo! You're not just going to leave me here alone, are you?" She snapped at Gordo, starting to feel angry that her friend would abandon her like this.
He looked at her concerned face, bit his tongue, then began to say something to her that he really did not want to say. "No, you're right, you shouldn't be alone today. But, I really do have to get home, so, um, why don't you call your, um, boyfriend, you know, Jimmy, and ask him to come over." It was extremely difficult for Gordo to call Jimmy Lizzie's "boyfriend," and he cringed inside when he said that word. And he felt like he was stabbing himself in the back by encouraging her to call him. But, he kept muttering to himself, this for Lizzie, this for Lizzie, this is who she needs right now, not you, not the person who almost got her killed.
After hearing his suggestion, Lizzie responded with silence. She felt like he had just thrown a stone at her face; she didn't know why, but it was as if Gordo was rejecting her, it was as if he was telling her that he no longer wanted to be her friend. It seemed irrational, but she couldn't help feeling this way, especially considering all the hurtful things that he had said to her the night before. Yes, he said those things in the heat of the moment, but, isn't that when you let your true feelings out?
Is that how he *really* thinks about me?
After a few more deathly awkward seconds, Lizzie responded, "Okay, Gordo. That's a great idea. And it works for both of us, since you get to go home and get out of here. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Lizzie, no that's not it at all, I do want to be here, you know, because you're really sick, but I really have things to do, and I'm sure you'd rather be spending time with Jimmy than with me, right?"
"Yeah, that's right," whispered Lizzie. A lone tear streamed down her cheeks. She closed her eyes then softly asked Gordo, "Hey, um, could you hand me the phone? I want to give Jimmy a call."
What the hell are you doing Gordo!?? Stop it, don't give her the phone, tell her you didn't mean anything you just said and that you would give anything to stay with her right now! However, he kept refusing to listen to his heart, and he got up, picked up the phone and handed it to Lizzie.
"Thank you, David." She took the phone and punched in Jimmy's number.
Gordo sat himself back on the couch and wondered to himself, when was the last time she called me David?
"Oh, hey, Jimmy? It's me, Lizzie!" Gordo turned his head towards Lizzie, only to see her face brighten up into a huge smile upon hearing Jimmy on the other line. He turned his head the other way, grimaced, nervously rubbed his hands together, and kept thinking to himself, see Gordo, you did the right thing. She wants to be with Jimmy, not you, she deserves to be with someone who wouldn't say those things to her.
As Lizzie happily chattered away on the phone, Gordo got up to leave. Lizzie saw him get up. She said, "Oh hang on Jimmy, Gordo's about to leave." She looked at Gordo and said, "Thanks, this was a great idea! Jimmy's coming over right now, so you're free to go! I'll see ya later, okay?" She then turned away from Gordo and started talking into the phone as if he had already left.
He felt hurt by Lizzie's cold goodbye, but he understood why she was being that way. "Bye, Lizzie. I'll call you later to see how you're doing, alright?"
"Sure, whatever David," said Lizzie, who, without turning to look at him, absentmindedly waved her hand goodbye, almost as if she was shoo-ing him out the door.
He winced, as hearing Lizzie calling him David felt like the worst sort of insult he could ever receive from his best friend. In a painful daze, he turned around, and like a zombie, and trudged out the door. It was still raining outside, but he didn't care in the least bit. As he reached the sidewalk, he turned around, whispered "goodbye, Lizzie," then continued his slow, somber march home.
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As he continued to stand there on his back porch, remembering what happened that morning, David opened his eyes, stared up into the oncoming rain, and screamed into the stormy night, "Oh my god, what in the world were you thinking, man? You practically threw her into Jimmy' arms! It's your fault she dies for the second time!"
But, it's not too late, remember? You still have a second chance! With that thought, David ran back into his house and sprinted into the bathroom for a quick shower.
After he put himself into some dry clothes, he began to pace around the living in deep thought about how he could save Lizzie's life once more.
I'm going to do it, somehow, I'm going to do it. It's not her destiny to die, I know it, I'm going to save her again, I have to save her, for her, and for me . . . .