.
Chapter Two.
Reliving.
Ana.
.
After fighting, but losing the battle to obtain more sleep, I finally gave up and left, my freshly made bed. Now, I sit, lost in the dark at the kitchen table, nursing a cold cup of tea. I'm unsure of how long I've been sitting here, but it helps. It always does. I've sat here many a night, lost in my own thoughts and tears. I find it restful, peaceful, here in this cozy, rustic, kitchen. I always have.
Suddenly, the intrusive, and very bright, overhead light comes on. Causing me to involuntarily duck my head and scrunch my eyelids tightly closed. Peeking through my lashes, my eyes soon adjust to the harsh light, and I ease into a soft smile. I feel the wave of comfort that the women I live with always brings with her, flood through me as she enters the room.
"You, okay?" she asks. Kissing the top of my head benevolently as she reaches me.
I give her a little nod. Thankful, that there's no need for me to explain to her, why I'm sitting here in the middle of the night.
"Sorry, if I woke you." I offer an apology for earlier, and mean it, because who knows, how loud I was screaming, or for how long.
"You didn't, it's sun up." she says softly, as she steps away from me.
She heads over to the large window. Opening the heavy, wooden shutters, letting in the morning sunlight. Proving, that another night has passed me by. As she switches off the light and turns on the kettle, it dawns on me that I've been sitting here, longer than I was actually asleep this time. I thought it was only a few hours.
"Bad dreams?" my Aunt Meg whispers, as she replaces my cup with a warm, fresh one.
I nod, smiling gratefully, hugging the cup for warmth. I don't need to add any details, or explain to her what's kept me up. She's heard me enough times over the years to know what my nightmares are about. She's lived through them with me.
As I take in Meg, it amazes me how young she looks. She looks more alive than I do. Her skin is flawless for some one in her late forty's. Her light brown hair, may be touched with grey now, but looks good, high on her head in a messy bun. She's a sturdy woman, but still holds femininity and grace. Her jeans are worn, and work well with her familiar red, plaid shirt and hiking boots. She looks every bit, the mountain loving woman that she is.
The most amazing thing about my aunt Meg, though, is how I can see my dad in her warm blue eyes, when ever she gets annoyed or over excited.
"It's only to be expected at this time of year." the woman in question says soothingly, squeezing my shoulder with compassion and understanding.
"I know," I whisper, always dreading the anniversary of the accident coming around, but this year it's different. "It's been Ten years, this week." I inform her, as if she'd need reminding.
Glancing at the calender on the wall, I sigh heavily. It's the day after tomorrow, to be exact. The week has passed by quicker than I thought. Just like the years.
It shocks me, just how much time has passed. It still feels so painful, so raw... So recent.
"Yes, it has." Meg replies. Her voice holding her own sadness for the loss of her brother.
Taking hold of my hand, she sits down opposite me. I mirror her attempt at a smile, or try to anyway. I suddenly feel very tired, just looking at Meg. She's ready for her day. Her day, at the mountaineering, and outdoor activity center a few miles away, where she will be busy all day, and here's me, still in my pajamas, dropping where I sit.
She looks at me with concern, her eyes creasing and watering with her ever present, worry for me. She's aware of my nightmares and what they consist of, but she doesn't know the true guilt I live with. She doesn't know about the hidden pain that I've carried around with me. Or the regret which has consumed and controlled me.
But I know what she sees when she looks at me.
The constant pain I feel is etched on my face. Leaving me with sallow looking skin, dark shadows under my eyes, and a constant furrowed, looking brow. Even now, she can see my sleepless night all over my face. She doesn't fully understand my heartache, thought. She never could. I've never let her. Never wanted her to know.
She thinks all my pain is for the loss of my step-father, Ray, and a huge part of it does belong to him, but she doesn't know about the boy who lost his life because of me. The boy who died... died, due to my selfishness. She doesn't know how deep the guilt and remorse runs through me for him... Or, how I will never, ever, be able to escape from it... Escape from him.
.
I've lived with my step-father's sister, Meg, ever since that life altering night. She took me in without a second thought, knowing I had no one else, after losing my mother to cancer when I was a baby. I can't help but look at her with all the love I feel for her, because I know I would've been lost without her.
She's loved me, brought me up and never resented the disruption to her quiet life, not for a single moment. We're close, have a bond like a true Mother and Daughter and I love her dearly for everything she's ever done for me.
"You have to let all of this go, sweetheart," her soft voice breaks my revere. "I know it's hard and you miss him, especially at this time of year, but your dad... He wouldn't have wanted this life for you."
I nod, knowing what she's saying is true. Ray, would be so disappointed in me if he could see me now, but she doesn't understand my true heartache, or how deep my regret is etched.
"Maybe you should get away for a while, take a trip. Your inheritance is yours, now that you've turned Twenty Two. You've graduated, have no job commitments right now, use it, escape from here for a bit. Blow the cobwebs away." Meg suggests, and I hear the hope in her voice.
"I know I should, and I need to let go... but it still hurts so much, Aunt Meg. It feels like it happened only yesterday... and I..I.." My voice tapers off as I feel my throat constrict painfully and my tears begin to fall, heavy and unhindered.
"I know, my sweet girl. I know." Aunt Meg whispers compassionately, as she stands, walks around the table and offers me a comforting hug.
Without hesitation, I turn in my chair, wrap my arms around her middle and bury my face, and my tears, into her warm, familiar form. She holds me tightly as I cling to her.
"Let it go, Ana." she coos softly.
Using her strength and love to keep me strong. I close my eyes and remember in detail how I came to be here. Allowing myself a rare moment to relive, that dreadful night.
.
"Come on Annie, we gotta head out." my dad, had shouted from outside, as he finished loading the last of our camping gear into the trunk of the car.
"I'm ready." I remember yelling from the house, as I bounded down the stairs two at a time.
I was carrying my school backpack. The one, that at the last minute I'd urgently filled with all the things that my young self didn't want to leave behind, or be without. Dad looked at me with a wide grin as he took it from me and placed it in the trunk.
I remember him, ruffling my hair fondly as he chuckled down at me. It was such a simple everyday gesture, one he'd used a million times before, but I remember he looked and sounded so happy that day. Thankfully, that memory has stuck with me. Helping, in a fashion, to keep me somewhat sane.
School was out for the summer. My dad, had been working a lot, so this vacation was something that we'd both been looking forward to. I remember climbing into the back of the car, full of giddy excitement and hope of fun filled days. Never thinking for a moment that it would be the last time I would ever be in the house I called home. Or, that only days later, I would lose the man that loved me, like I was his true, biological daughter. I never realized at that moment, that my life would never be the same again.
I was Eleven, just about to turn Twelve, and as a treat, dad and I were going camping. We were staying close to my dad's sister's house, and were planning on visiting her during our trip. I remember being so excited, because my aunt Meg, lived in a cabin. A cabin, deep in the forest of Washington.
As a child, the forest seemed so daunting to me, yet comforting at the same time. The trees, to my young eyes, seemed to reach into the sky forever, and stretched like a carpet for as far as the eye could see from any high vantage point. We were camping in the North Cascades, and at such a young age, it seemed like such an adventure being lost in the tall, never ending trees. And it was... At first.
Now, the forest is still my haven, but also my own living, personal hell. One, I cannot, and will not escape.
A few days into our vacation, and after exploring the surrounding forest and doing all the usual camping related stuff, we went to visit Aunt Meg. She lived a few miles away in a small logging town, deep in the Cascades. Dad was eager to get there, and I saw on arrival that he'd conspired with his sister and arranged a surprise for me for my birthday, tomorrow.
They'd gotten me a puppy.
I remember my deafening, squeals of delight as I ran to her and took her in my arms. I'd hounded my father for months about wanting a pet, needing a companion, and by the looks of it, he'd heard and listened to my plea's. My pup, was a beautiful, black, grey and white Husky, and I was instantly overjoyed.
Tess and I were inseparable for the next twenty four hours, and I'd soon fallen in love with my furry, little friend. She made the vacation fun, and gave me a companion to enjoy the time with. Something, that I didn't even realize I was truly missing.
Two days before we were due to go home, we were enjoying the sun and spending some time on the lake at the camp site. Dad, was bobbing about in a small fishing boat in front of us, while Tess and I, we're attempting to play fetch along the shoreline. My dad, had surprised me by giving me a tennis ball, and I remember it was so much fun watching Tess run about energetically.
Tess, who was still very young and excitable, suddenly got distracted by a large bird that swooped down and settled on the lake. Before I could stop her and despite calling her name repeatedly, she ran from me.
She didn't take her eyes off the bird as she ran along the shore, and was soon running along the small, wooden jetty, that protruded a short distance over the water. She didn't even pause for thought in her quest to reach the bird and ran right off the end, sinking like a stone into the water.
It seemed like an age before she resurfaced, but once she did, I could see she was struggling. My feet, where rooted to the spot. Sheer terror and the fear from not being able to swim, had my body frozen, but my screams for help, grew louder and louder, with my rising panic.
I saw my dad out of my peripheral, dropping his fishing rod, standing up in the boat, and calling my name, frantically. He was too far away to get to us quickly, but he sat back down and began rowing back toward us urgently. My heart was in my mouth as Tess flayed about in the water. Her head, disappearing under the water too many times for her to last much longer. She was growing weak, I could tell.
Suddenly, a teenage boy appeared out of nowhere. He ran, without a word or glance toward me, along the wooden jetty, pulling off his T-shirt as he went. He gracefully, dived off the end of the jetty and began to swim the twenty feet or so, toward Tess.
Tess, vanished under the water as the boy reached her and I remember seeing his feet rise up above the water as he dived, deep, under the water to reach her. My dad, ceased his yelling, and paused rowing as he looked on, expectantly. The boy, soon reappeared, holding my sodden, sad looking puppy aloft, like the superhero he was.
I was instantly awed by the sight of him, and could finally breath, knowing, my pup was going to be okay.
My chest tightens and the deep gulp that catches in my throat, reminds me, even now, that that wasn't the only show of bravery I would see from the boy I met that day.
I remember being so grateful for his help, and feeling so ashamed of myself for being scared and not helping him. Or Tess. He never held it against me though, and we shared a joke, that I can't even remember now, as he clambered out of the water. I remember stretching up onto my tiptoes and kissing his still wet cheek as he handed Tess back to me.
The boy looked down at me, with wide surprised eyes, but I saw his faint flush and eyes light up with amusement at my actions. We sat, side by side on the jetty for hours after meeting. We shared my lunch, which consisted of juice boxes and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, that I'd made myself that morning. My father, watched us both closely from his boat.
We talked, sporadically, about school and things, but mostly just enjoyed the sun and playing about with Tess. She seemed to be fine after her watery ordeal, and had obviously taken a shine to her saviour -just as I had- if her following him about constantly, was any indication of her gratitude toward him.
The boy, Christian, was a few years older than me. He seemed so brave and cool, to my young, awed, and impressionable eyes. He was so big and strong, with a crooked smile that lit up his face when he released it. I remember being mesmerized by his hair as it shone like a new penny in the sun, while drying in the breeze.
Looking back, Christian, was probably bored stiff, spending time with me, but there were no other teenagers staying at the camp, barr us, so options were limited for him. He seemed to love playing with Tess, though, and that's probably why he put up with a silly, enraptured girl, following him around the campsite for the next two days.
On the day that dad and I, were planning on heading home. I'd already seen Christian and his father leave the site to go fishing. He gave me a half hearted wave as he smiled goodbye, and I remember thinking that despite his smile, he didn't look very happy.
Suddenly, his face brightened and his laughter filled the air. He squatted down onto his knees to pet, Tess, who had ran eagerly over to see her new friend and she was all over him. I stared at Christian as his face lit up while he rough and tumbled with her, saying goodbye.
I etched his face into my memory as he climbed into the back of his fathers car a few minutes later. He left the site with a brief smile to me and a frown, toward the back of his fathers head.
I thought it would be the last time I'd ever see him... I wish to God, it had of been.
Dad and I, enjoyed our last morning together by the lake, but we were both feeling a bit melancholy and decided to visit Aunt Meg, one last time before heading back to Portland. Dad, wanted to complete most of our journey before nightfall and I heard him telling Aunt Meg on our arrival, that we couldn't stay long.
It was twilight, when we left.
I immediately feel the pain, the anguish, and deep, deep regret set in as I recall what followed. The tragic accident that followed. The accident, that changed my life forever. I feel aunt Megs hands, stroking my head softly and it gives me the courage to carry on reminiscing. Here, safe in her arms in our kitchen.
Fifteen minutes into our drive home, all hell broke loose.
Heading home, I was sitting in the back of the car. Tess, was asleep in a carry crate, strapped securely to the seat beside me. I was singing along to a song on the radio. I was happy, carefree and enjoying the drive and excitement of heading home. I couldn't wait to introduce and share Tess, with my friends.
Dad, looked over his shoulder at me as he began to sing along with the familiar chorus of the song. The words, that I knew so well, stuck in my throat as I was suddenly blinded by bright, oncoming headlights. Dad, cursed loudly as he turned the wheel, trying to steer the car away from imminent danger. I remember scowling to myself, not really paying attention to what was happening, because my dad never said bad words.
Then, I felt it. The painful, short, sharp tug of the seatbelt as it constricted against my chest. I heard the deafening sound that popped my ears and muffled everything around me. I felt the glass as it shattered, nicking and grazing my skin as it flew through the air. I also remember feeling dizzy and closing my eyes tightly as the car began to spin.
The car, came to a complete stop with a sudden, violent jerk. It was so strong it took the wind right out of me. I could feel my body, weightless, swinging around like I was nothing but a rag doll. I opened my eyes and remember feeling panic, when I saw that I was hanging upside down.
I felt my hot, heavy tears, run down my brow and into my hair as I frantically pulled on the seatbelt that had me pinned. I was shouting for my dad the whole time, and it didn't really register that he wasn't answering me, moving, or that he was slumped at an odd angle.
I was suddenly aware of Tess, whimpering and scratching in her crate from somewhere behind me, and I knew that I had to get us out. As I struggled and sobbed, I could hear a voice, but it sounded distant and didn't fully register through my blind panic or popped eardrums.
Suddenly, my chest constricts as my eyes but and it's like a tidal wave washing over me.
I'm Twelve years old and back in that car. Mind, body and soul.
The voice I can hear gets closer, and suddenly, Christian is underneath me. He's crawling on his belly into the car through the broken window, brushing the glass aside with his covered forearms as he goes. He'd pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands to protect himself, but I can see small shards of glass sticking to the fibers. I wonder if he can feel them? I'm vaguely aware that he is speaking constantly, easing and trying to encourage me that every thing's going to be okay, but I still can't hear him properly or focus on him fully.
I can see from above, that he has a deep cut on his head and his hair is thick with blood, stuck to his scalp. His mouth is swollen and also bleeding, but his loud curses make me aware that he's now reached me and is trying to pull open my seatbelt. Coming to my senses, I try to help him, but struggle, crying out desperately, when it won't budge.
"I'll be right back, okay? Ana." Christian says urgently, his voice drifts off as he starts to shuffle himself backwards out of the car window and I feel instant fear at the thought of him leaving me.
"Don't leave," I yell, scared of being here alone. "My Dad..." I whimper, as I remember that he needs help too.
Christian, shuffles himself around until he can reach my father, but he's back so quickly that I know in my heart that he's gone, and there's nothing Christian can do to help him. My dad, would have moved to free me if he could, and he isn't moving.
My eyes lose focus as my tears pour, but I can't pull them away from the back of my dad's head. I'm unaware that Christian has even gone, until he's back and underneath me, calling my name.
"Ana, Ana." he yells sharply, grabbing my attention. I quickly pull my watery, frozen gaze away from my dad and look down at him.
He looks up at me with wide, determined eyes, but his fear is clear. He's just as scared as I am. He seems to square himself determinedly, like the man he wants to be, and looks me in the eyes.
"Ana, listen to me," he says firmly. "I need to get you out of here, but your weight is keeping the seatbelt from releasing you... I'm going to have to cut you free, okay?" he says pointedly and I nod in understanding, knowing it's the only way.
Christian, moves further into the car so that he's closer to me. He struggles in the tight space, but manages to position himself on his hip, directly below me. He lifts his arms as far as he can, and places one of his hands firmly on my shoulder. In his other hand he's holding a small fishing knife, and I can see it trembling in his clenched fist.
"You're going to have to try and support your body weight, Ana. Brace your feet on the back of the seat as best you can and hold on tight to my shoulders, lock your arms tight, okay?" he instructs me, and I'm so grateful that he's acting so much older than his teenage years. He's assertive and thinking ahead. Trying to appear strong and in control, and I need that right now. "You're going to fall once I cut you free, so..." I nod constantly as his voice tapers off and I understand his worry
Our eyes lock and it's as if we're having a silent conversation. We both know that we're on our own in this. We both know that we have to get out of here, and quickly. We both know that we only have one shot at this, and in a limited amount of time, because we can both smell the gasoline.
Christian, looks deep into my eyes as he takes a deep breath and places the four inch blade behind the seat belt. He slices the strap in one swift motion but we don't stand a chance. Gravity, kicks in quickly.
I try to be strong and hold on tight, I really do. I try to brace and support myself as best I can, but as the seat belt is slit, I find I'm no-were near strong enough. I drop instantly, and heavily.
I can't control my weight, and neither can Christian. I let out a yelp, as I feel his young arms buckling under me as I land on him.
Our sudden movement, causes the car to rock and shift and I suddenly feel a deep, burning, pressure in my chest as I roll and slump on my back in the small space beside Christian.
I don't need to look down to know that the knife he was holding has entered my chest.
I don't want to look down. I can't look down.
If I look down, it's real.
My eyes lock with Christian's for a few seconds before we both reluctantly lower our gaze and watch the vivid, red, spreading rapidly across my bright, yellow T-shirt.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Christian curses frantically.
I barely hear his cursing when my eyes rise and I notice he's still holding the knife. It's stained red to the hilt.
A pain filled groan leaves Christian when his eyes follow mine. He immediately tosses the knife aside and begins to move quickly. Clambering over me and crawling out of the window. He turns himself around as soon as he's able and takes hold of my arms firmly. As he pulls me free from the car, my T-shirt offers me little protection and I have to grit my teeth to hold in my cries as the shards of glass from the floor scratch the skin on my back.
Christian, picks me up as soon as I'm clear of the wreckage. Fleeing with me in his arms until we're a safe distance down the road. I'm slumped in his arms like a dead weight and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I have no energy to help or support myself.
I'm feeling lightheaded and my eyes are blurring. The strong smell of blood is making me nauseous and my head is spinning uncomfortably. I can feel myself growing weaker and more lethargic as the seconds tick by and I really want to close my eyes right now, but surprisingly, I don't feel any pain. Just weak. Very weak.
"T.. Tess." I mumble, as Christian takes us further away from the wreckage.
"Ana, I need to get you to safety first, I need to get you some help," Christian says firmly, or tries to, but his voice sounds dry and broken. "I have to..."
I see the compassion flood his eyes as his voice breaks because now that I've mentioned her, she is all we can both hear. I look up at him through half opened eyes, the effort too much to open them fully. "Please," I beg in a whisper. "Help, Tess."
Christian curses under his breath as he glances over his shoulder towards the wrecked car. His frustration and reluctance to go is clear but Tess is whimpering so loudly, scared and helpless, still trapped in her crate, that he can't ignore her.
Christian, suddenly drops to his knees and places me gently down on the grass at the edge of the road. As soon as his hands leave me, he pulls off his sweater.
"Push here, firmly." he orders, grabbing my hands and forcing them against his balled up clothing on my chest.
I do as instructed with my weakening limbs, while he looks at me with teary, wounded eyes. There is so much pain and anguish in his gaze that my heart constricts painfully. He shakes his head as his shoulders fall, resigned, to what I've asked him to do. Shockingly, he then places a firm kiss on my forehead.
"I'll be right back." He whispers as his lips leave my skin.
I watch, as he jumps to his feet and heads back to the wreckage, fuelled with determination. I follow the movement of his bare back as he runs back to the car. My fathers car, is resting on its roof about forty feet away and it isn't long before Christian is on his belly crawling back into the car, trying to reach Tess.
Once Christian is out of sight, my eyes pass over the scene in front of me and I'm shocked by what I see. Christian's car is stationary in the middle of the road. The side, is all bent and twisted. The road, is full of distorted bits of glass, metal and debris. The cars engine is still ticking over, allowing the one remaining headlight to illuminate the road, but my sight seems to be waning.
As my eye lids begin to flutter, I notice Christian's father is slumped on the opposite side of the road. He's not moving but his eyes are wide open and he's looking at me, but I don't thin he sees me.
A wisp of smoke passes through my line of vision, causing me to look back towards Christian's car. The car is all contorted out of shape and there's fuel leaking from it, but nothing is on fire. I follow the trail of liquid which is running along the natural gradient of the road, and I can't hold in my sob when I see that it's heading straight for my father's car.
The car, where the smoke is coming from.
I can't see where it's coming from, but sparks have began to cackle and bounce on the ground, igniting small flames that begin to flicker at the front of the car. As I stare, transfixed, they're growing stronger by the second.
"Christian." I attempt to yell in warning, but my voice is low, raspy and goes unheard.
I try to move, to warn him somehow, but can't, my body is drained, lifeless. I glance down at myself and Christian's sweater is bright red now. I'm fighting with myself to stay awake. I can feel my body waining and my vision, zoning in and out.
A bright flash, catches my eye and I turn my head back towards the car. The trail of liquid that has now gathered and pooled around my father's car has been ignited.
Just before my eyelids drop, I catch sight of Christian standing in front of the car. He has Tess, clutched tightly in his arms. He looks my way at the exact same moment that the car explodes a few feet behind him.
The last thing I hear before the darkness takes over me completely is Christian's blood curdling screams as he flies through the air, engulfed, and surrounded by blinding, violent flames.
I knew, right then and there, hearing that sound, that he was dead. I can still hear that sound to this day. It makes my blood run cold every single night.
I breathe deeply, clinging to aunt Meg. She's still holding me close to her, stroking my hair, cooing, telling me that every thing's going to be okay. Just like she always has.
When I woke up in the hospital, sixteen hours after the accident, my aunt Meg was there beside me. She held me in her arms, doing this exact same thing, as she explained to me that no one else had survived. That I had lost my father and that the life I knew, the life I had, was over.
When I asked about Christian, I was told that no one with that name had been admitted. I, was the only one brought into the hospital that night. Even I was touch and go for a while, but everyone else involved in the accident was a fatality. I overheard an orderly using the term D.O.A. and my whole world fell apart.
I was heartbroken, devastated, and never spoke about the boy whose life I'd ended. I selfishly, begged him to help Tess, and it cost him his life. I hid my grief for him behind the grief for my father, and no one, was ever the wiser. I just bottled everything up, hid it as best I could and forced myself to begin a new life. A different life. A life, with my Aunt Meg.
I knuckled down and lost myself in my studies, sailing through high school and college. I excelled at everything I put my mind to, using the pain to keep me focused, driven, but also a little isolated. It was my way of hiding the shame and constant pain I was filled with over the life I took, and the lie I was living.
I could never hide from it completely, though. I could never bury it deep enough to be truly free. I've never been able to. It always finds me in the dead of night when there's no distractions, when I'm all alone.
It never lets me rest. It will be with me for all of eternity.
It's inside me, he's inside me, he has to be...
Because, I killed him.
.