Page 27 of Haunt Me

She nods, turns to leave. I love that she never says ‘bye’ to me anymore, because we’ll meet again tomorrow. I’m already halfway back to campus, when I realize I should have walked her home. I turn on my heel and jog back to our spot.

I know it’s pathetic to run after her like this, but it’s almost like a need I can’t explain. I want to say one more thing to her, look at her face one more time, let her eyes see me one more time before Ihave to face another sleepless night. Before I have to face another anxiety-filled day. To have to wait another night and school day before seeing her again feels like an eternity.

Already the weight is settling back onto my lungs.

The weight that lifts only when I’m near her. So I run back, and that’s when I begin to realize a few things. One, I can barely see where I’m going, even with my phone’s light turned on and pointed directly at my shoes. I stumble and catch myself before falling flat on my face about ten times. That’s how thick the darkness is between the trees.

Two, I don’t know which direction Eden went. I don’t know where she lives.

Three, I really know very little about her even though she is quickly becoming the only thing that is anchoring me to this world. The real reason I haven’t dropped out of school yet. Without the hope of seeing her every evening, this place would be unbearable.

And if I am really being honest, what I think is unbearable is not just school. It’s everywhere. It’s the whole damn world. This world is unbearable.

Except for the place where she is. There, I can exist.

I don’t know what makes me call out her name in the thick darkness, except desperation. Her name is pure, unadulterated desperation and my tongue, its taste bitter and dark like fear.

“Eden!” I scream into the night. In the distance, beyond the trees, I can see the lights of the cars crossing the avenue, but inside the forest, it’s completely dark. “Eden, are you here?”

I don’t think she could have gone very far, since I have been running like a crazy person, and she was moving slowly, as if with effort. This is farther than she could possibly have walked in the past three minutes.

Sudden fear grips me.

Why did I not walk her home?

Why does my head turn to mush when I’m with her?

Why am I always brain dead around her?

“Eden!” I call again, my fear turning feral. “Eden?”

And then I see it. A flash of white on the forest floor, just beyond the tangled roots. I get that icy-hot feeling in my veins, that rush of panic and adrenaline that makes me run even faster towards the white thing, even while the breath catches in my chest.

It’s her white knit sweater. I think I knew, deep down inside, that something horrible had happened to her, as if we are connectedsomehow. My legs threaten to buckle, but I force myself to stay focused, to keep running. I reach her within seconds.

“Oh, thank God,” I whisper, dropping to my knees.

She’s lying on the leaves, curled to her side like she’s sleeping, her face turned at an unnatural angle, her skin so white it practically glows in my phone’s light. I crouch on the dirt and circle my arms around her, pushing her into my chest, the need to absorb anything bad that’s happened to her nearly consuming me. She doesn’t move. Her head flops back, her lips white, bloodless.

“Eden?” Heart pounding, I grab her by the waist and carefully lift her to a seated position, checking for injuries. I find none, but her body is completely boneless in my arms, drooping, lifeless.

“Eden?” I try to stay calm.

I can’t do this, I’m not strong enough to save her, I think frantically.

“Eden, come on, open your eyes. You’re ok, you’re ok.”

It’s stupid talking to her like this, especially when I know how to administer first aid, but I am hoping she will open her eyes and look at me. But deep down inside, I know it’s not going to be as simple as that. I have never seen anyone unconscious look so white. I didn’t see my dad when he fainted—which he didn’t, according to the doctors, he died right away—but James did. My brother has never told me what Dad looked like right after it had happened.

No. I push the thought away.I won’t sink into those thoughts. I won’t go weak. I will stay here and fight for her. I will be strong.

I’ll think about Dad later, if I have to.

This is not like that. This is Eden, my safe place. He… he was my safe place before. The same thing won’t happen again. I won’t let it.

“Eden, come on,” I almost whimper, breath catching, heart pounding.

A sudden, panicked thought strikes me, and I don’t care if I’m being dramatic or not, or if she’s going to laugh at me afterwards, when she is awake and talking again. All I can think is that she might be dead.

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