Page 9 of Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

Shrugging, I scanned the darkening sky. My gray hoodie and black teddy coat did little to ward off the chill in the air. As I dug up the muddy riverbed, my breaths puffed out in front of me. “I have this sense like something is wrong, you know?”

Evelyn watched the boys climb out of the river, soaking wet and shivering, before looking back at me. “Don’t you think it’s your anxiety talking? I mean”—she nibbled the corner of her mouth, contemplating her words—“I’m tense, too. It was easy to push that night into the back of my mind throughout the year, but now…with the anniversary coming up. It’s like I’m constantly thinking about it.”

I nodded, staring at the water. “I get it.”

It was the truest thing I’d said in a while.

Sliding my gaze away from the water, I peered up at her as the cold breeze seeped beneath my coat to bite at my skin. “Don’t you feel it, though? The change in the air.”

There was another splash. Lewis had jumped in, too. Trust him not to back down from doing foolish shit.

“It’s fall. Halloween is around the corner. Of course I feel it.”

“I can’t even think about Halloween yet.”

The air smelled of damp grass, pine, and dirty river water. It had that special fall smell that was so different from summer and spring.

“Hey, what’s that?” Evelyn asked, crouching down beside me and pulling my sleeve farther up my wrist. I wrenched it back, but it was too late. She’d already seen the fresh cut that was angry and red against the smattering of white raised scars dotting my skin.

Her eyes collided with mine, wide and worried, but I didn’t wait around as I stood up, setting off toward the parking lot. It was a five-minute walk from here.

Evelyn chased after me, calling out, “Hey, wait up.”

I didn’t.

I kept walking, my arms wrapped around me protectively.

“Hey.” She pulled me to a stop when we were out of sight of the bridge. The sun had almost set and the darkness crept closer, slithering out from between the fir trees.

Sticks and rocks crunched beneath my shoes as I turned around. My eyes met hers. I hated sympathy from others, and I hated it even more from my best friend.

“I’m fine,” I bit out, immediately regretting it when she blanched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, worrying her bottom lip, but she wasn’t looking at me. I knew I’d screwed up by snapping at her.

“I just need to get out of here.” I gestured back the way we came. “I can’t do this; pretend I’m okay. Not now. Not when I’m plagued with what we did.”

“I understand.”

Gazing past her shoulder when faint laughter drifted on the breeze, I felt so broken, wishing I could be more like my friends. They were a prime example that life moves on. Their friend was dead, and the anniversary was around the corner, but they still carved out moments in the day to have fun. Like they were now. I seemed to be the only one incapable of moving on.

Evelyn set off toward the parking lot and I followed, stepping on pinecones and twigs. The wind picked up, whistling through the trees. I should have worn a hat or a scarf. This coat didn’t keep me warm, and winter was around the corner, but my dad preferred spending his money on alcohol to drown his misery than on seasonal clothing.

“How long has it gone on?”

I peered sideways at Evelyn through my dark lashes. “How long has what gone on?”

Swallowing thickly, she nudged her chin at my arm. “The self-harm.”

My hand found my arm and my thumb slid beneath the sleeve to stroke the crusted cut. It was instinct to protect it from her judgmental eyes. It was also instinct to snap at her and tell her it was none of her business, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I let my hand slip away from my wrist and inhaled the fresh fall air, breathing in the scent of moss and damp earth. “It started soon after that night.”

Her pinky brushed up against mine, causing my chest to swell as we interlinked fingers. Evelyn would always be my best friend. The only one in the world who understood what I was going through.

“I had nightmares—I still do—but they tormented me back then. I’d wake up screaming. Dad was too drunk to notice. While I still have nightmares, they’ve dulled since then. Or maybe I’m getting used to them.” I shrugged, playing it off when Evelyn’s concerned gaze burned the side of my face. “I needed something to take the focus off the thoughts.”

The parking lot came into view, and I’d never been more relieved. Why was it so difficult to talk about the skeletons we kept hidden? This one didn’t want Evelyn to find it.

“It became too much one night, so I left my room and made a beeline for the kitchen.” This was the hardest part. The part I would rather leave unspoken. “I slid a knife from the wooden block. There was so much blood in the sink afterward… It dripped from my fingers…” Recalling how I’d looked up and caught my reflection in the window, the haunted look on my face, I whispered softly, “It hurt, but the pain felt good. I felt…relief.”

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