Page 9 of Krash & Bern

My body moved on autopilot. One minute, my life flashed before my eyes, and the next, I stood on Bernice’s porch. The knocks on the door sounded foreign as I waited on shaky knees.

“Krash?” Her mother’s gentle voice greeted me when the door opened. “Oh my God! What happened?”

She pulled me into the house to examine my body. The blood soaked into the fabric of my clothes while my skin burned from the thick fluid scattered all over me.

“H-He killed himself…” Once the words left my body, I broke. Every piece of armor on me fell to the ground as my knees buckled and my chest tightened. I gasped as the pain shot through my body like the bullet that pierced through my father’s skull. I would never forget the scene as his brains scattered across the room.

Mrs. James pulled me into a tight embrace. The love of a mother was a foreign concept to me. Other than my grandmother, I’d never known what it felt like to be loved by a maternal being.

“Mrs. James… I have… I have no one.” The confession punched me in my gut. All my bravado flew out the window as I sobbed. The gut-wrenching cries filled the air.

My vision blurred as I clung to her shirt. “I have no one. My father is dead.” I repeated the phrases as reality set in. I was an orphan. I was a bastard. I was nobody.

“What’s going on?” Mr. James spoke from somewhere in the house. I couldn’t place his position in the room because my sobs were too loud to do anything but clutch my chest and shake in the arms of my best friend’s mother.

In the moment, I was the lost and scared kid I’d held in for so long. As I wiped the tears from my face and finally took in a deep breath, I realized my biggest burden had been lifted. He was dead, and I was free from his abuse.

I explained to Bernice’s parents what I’d endured over the years. I explained to them just how bad my home life was. They both looked at me with sincere gazes. Their kind eyes were the reassurance I needed to get through the hard parts of the story.

“Please don’t call the cops,” I begged.

“We have to call the cops to come get his body,” Mr. James explained.

Fear crept back into my heart. “I don’t want to be put into the system. I don’t want to become a foster kid. I… I’ll be eighteen in a few months… Please…”

As I begged, Bernice emerged from upstairs. Her eyes met mine, and several emotions coursed through me at once. Embarrassment. Shame. Fear. Guilt. The strongest feeling, however, was relief. Bernice’s presence relieved me.

Her gentle hands found me as she pulled me into a tight embrace. Her scent… her scent of lavender and jasmine filled my nostrils and soothed the rapid beat of my heart.

An insecure part of me feared she’d see me at my most vulnerable and laugh, but she never did. She didn’t ask any questions or say anything. Instead, she rubbed my back and held me.

“I’m here for you,” she announced.

“We’re all here for you, Krash,” Mrs. James added.

“We have a guest room upstairs. Once you’ve talked to the police, we can bring your clothes, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”

“I… I appreciate y’all so much.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re family. We’ve got your back like you’ve had mine since the first day we met. I love you, Krash.”

“I love you too, Bern.”

Bernice was my peace.

She was my soulmate.

She was my heart in human form.

I’d die for Bernice if I had to.

God, I know I’m going to marry this girl one day. Please, make me the man she deserves.

Three years later

“Hmph!” I grunted as I tossed the box onto the floor. I collapsed onto the couch, still covered in plastic, and stared up at the ceiling fan—brand new and free of dust.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We still got a lot more to go!” Krash announced as he set a box on the floor and leaned against the door frame.

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