Page 21 of Tortured

No matter how long it’s been or how many light years away they rest it hurts. It’s like a gaping, sucking wound in my chest that keeps getting poked. Intense, raw, sharp pain.

Even though I close my eyes, push the pictures that I wish to god I could forget out of my head, they pop back in. The last time I saw them. My last time to see them, tell them good-bye. To touch their hands and shiver when I feel how cold they are. Eyes closed like they’re asleep. Pale and rigid. No soft little puffs of breath warming my icy cheeks. No wild laughs from Charles as he teases his sister mercilessly. No pouting from Lyssa as she glares at him.

Fragile, abnormally silent. I couldn’t hear anything in the place. It was so quiet I could hear my heart beating in my ears until it stops and I drop to the floor next to their caskets. Wails of grief and anger rip through me, suffocating me, destroying me from the inside out.

“Nooo!” I scream and cry, pounding on the floor until Eric’s sister, struggling with her own loss, comes to help me up off the carpet.

“Come on, Lacey. You’re going to make yourself sick.” She tries to lead me but I can’t move my feet, they’re frozen to the ground. My chest hurts and it feels like a weight is pressing down on my entire body as I glare at her.

I don’t care if I make myself sick. Don’t care about myself at all. I’ve lost everything. One stupid, stupid failing of mine cost my family their lives.

How do I forget that? How do I move on from that? Forgive myself for the failing that took them.

I jerk to a stiff position, my body trembling, screaming, tears pouring down my cheeks.

“Vreck!” Koehn shakes me and then lightly taps my cheek. “Hey, small one! Come back to me! You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

As if that’s any better. The only thing that’s good about all of this is that I don’t have to see all the relatives whispering about me anymore. Blaming me. I know they’re all blaming me.

“Are you alright?” I can hear his voice. Can see his firm mouth move but it’s all a blur. None of it makes any sense at all.

None of it ever will. How the hell did I deserve to lose it all in one shot? What did I ever do that God felt that he had to punish me by taking away my whole life in one devastating minute.

I can’t answer him. I’m still locked in the midst of the well-wishers and sympathetic eyes, the soft music and the stifling interior of the funeral home.

And then I’m gasping for breath as he kisses me. His lips force mine open and shock brings me back to the here and now. I feel his rough tongue drag along mine and my body throbs to my heartbeat, pounding away like I’ve run miles and miles.

“Koehn? What are you doing?” I pull away from him and shiver, rubbing the back of my hand along my mouth and staring at him. He looks as stunned as I feel.

“I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

“I was awake the whole time,” I huff. But the memories were swamping me, overwhelming me.

He grunts.

“Tell me what happened next.”

“They were killed on the way back from his parents in the dark by a drunk driver. He went left of center and hit them head on, totaling the car.”

I shudder, fighting to stay here. To not slip into those horrible memories. Not sure if I’d ever make my way back.

“Eric and Lyssa were killed instantly. Eric tried to twist the wheel so that the brunt of it hit him but he didn’t quite make it and Lyssa was on the same side of the car as him.” My lashes drop and I watch my hands twist in my lap. “Charles, my son, lasted for a few more hours in the hospital and I had hope that he’d live even though they were not so optimistic.” I shrug. “I couldn’t give them all up like that. And it was my fault.”

His white brow lifts, so strong against his pale blue skin. He shakes his head. “I do not think it was your fault. This other driver killed them.”

“But if Eric hadn’t decided to take them away because of my migraine they’d still be here. Therefore, it’s my fault. They’d still be alive if I hadn’t been so weak that I couldn’t bear to hear them.” I choke on a sob and he holds me tighter, his arms so strong. “I’d give anything to hear them talking again. I kept looking at the funeral home for them to sit up and start talking. To tell me that it was some strange joke.”

Tears pour down my face and sobs wrack my body as he tugs me so close that I hear the strong beat of his heart by my ear. Hear the murmurs that are so soft I can’t figure out what the hell he’s saying.

“I wanted them to wake up so damn bad that I actually convinced myself at one point that I saw Lyssa’s chest move and I refused to let them take the bodies. His family thought I was crazy and they called the police. They took me away to a hospital and I was there for weeks until they thought I wouldn’t hurt myself.” I sob harder.

“I wasn’t there when they buried them. I had to wait until they let me out and then I went to the cemetery and sat there, waiting. Hoping that I’d wake up and it was all some horrible nightmare.”

He sighs. “You were dealing with a horrible thing. You did the best that you could.”

I snort. “I was a mess. I couldn’t accept any of it and I stayed there until my friends came and got me. The one who’s not talking?” He nods his head. “She took me home with her and took care of me until I finally woke up enough to cry more. All of them took turns watching over me.”

“They are good friends.”

---