Page 117 of Collateral Damage

“Thats ok! I had a good time,besides babysitting.”

I was angry at her for a while after settling in. I couldn’t let go of her behaviour and I was in no mood for her company but since the trial, she became less, bitchy? More laid back. She stopped going out as much and being reckless, spending more time with me doing things I wanted to do like helping me with my writing journey. She even apologised for the way she treated me and it took a while but I slowly let her back in. It was hypocritical for me to preach about second chances that day and not give her a chance to show me she saw me as more than just an ego boost but it's been two years and we’ve never been closer. She even dyed her hair brown! I barely recognise her but I adore this new, compassionate version of her. She no longer judges or pushes me or belittles me. She's become a sister I never had and truthfully, if it was not for her and the Calloway’s, I don’t think I would have made it.

“I’ll take her off your hand’s sweetie. I’m sure you’re exhausted!” Her mom takes her from my hip, placing her grumbly butt on the couch as I move to ascend the stairs.“Oh!Alora, this came in the post for you. I’m not exactly sure who it's from, I wasn’t aware anyone knew of your new address.”

She grabs a brown envelope from the side table sat beside the door, almost running for it so I don’t run upstairs before she can give it to me and holds it out for me to take.

“That's strange?” I murmur. I have had no contact with my family? And my address has stayed extremely confidential for security reasons since my books been published. Sharing my story with the world is good and all but it doesn’t keep the weirdos away.

“Goodnight darling.”

I glare at the delicate paper, feeling worn down and grainy against my fingertips as I run them over my name, handwritten but almost faded with my address stickered against the envelope.

“Goodnight Mrs. Calloway.” I say, still staring down at the anonymous parcel.

“Please. Call meSelene. We are family now, ok?”Family. Yeah, I guess we are. They treat me as if I was their own daughter and it's been so healing. For part of me anyway.

“Goodnight Selene!” I say chirpily, as I bound up the stairs nearly drifting as she shouts up to me.

“Don’t forget your meds! And there are some snacks on your bed in case you get peckish! Drunk munchies are the best.”

I wouldn’t exactly say I was drunk, not even tipsy. I learnt my lesson and just thinking about it consumes me. I couldn’t let anything distract me tonight so drinking was not exactly on my agenda, and I guess you could say I am still slightly level-headed. Alcohol and medication aren’t exactly the best combination.

We exchange a polite smile before I make my way to my bedroom, placing the envelope upright on my bedside table in front of a fresh vase of sunflowers, smiling as I run the soft petals through my fingertips.

“Heybaby…” I sigh softly, turning to look at my best friend. “Hey boy.”

Shep is laying on the bed being the goodest boy not eating my snacks but everything in his face is pleading I let him have a nibble as I sit beside him, running my fingers through the scruff of his neck as he attempts to lick my face and I suddenly feel so guilty but he’ll be ok. He has the Calloway’s.

“I miss her too…” I whisper against his fluffy ear and it’s like he can feel my pain as he attempts to lick away my tears. I glare at the letter but whoever it is, they can wait. If I can even be bothered to open it. I can’t be arsed to hear from some relative that is clearly only interested in my wellbeing now that I have made a name for myself. And an interesting one at that. But I’ve achieved a hell of a lot in the last two years. I made it my goal to achieve as much as I possibly could before my 21st and my name has been nothing short of quiet, almost everywhere. I’ve had almost everything, but the best one has to beThe ghost girl.I ache to be a ghost.I ache to be with her.I’ve written almost every single day since, beside the last week because apparently birthdays are a huge deal in this family. But it helps me to let out my feelings. Maybe someone can turn this into a book too when they find it.

I waste no time jumping into comfy clothes, removing the snacks she left me from the bed onto the floor as I grab my journal and a pen.

Play - ‘Still Mine – Ashley Singh’

Day 58902 14-2012

I made it. I got to 21. And I can assure you, you didn’t miss much turning 21. I definitely couldn’t picture you clubbing but I imagined it anyway to make me giggle.

Shep is still ok and safe by my side. For months he was practically lifeless, crying for you every night by the bedroom door until he realised you were never coming back and those months were restless. We both cried so hard that I don’t understand how I still have tears left but two years in and it doesn’t hurt any less. He got me through it and I think I pumped some life back into him but he's not the same and I don’t think he ever will be. The way I never will be.

I carried your end of the deal, but I never carried mine. So today I am going to do just that. I am going to be with you soon. I told you that when your heart stopped beating so would mine, and I’ve tried so hard to live a hollow shell of a life without you and it doesn’t matter what I fill it with, a part of me is still empty. A part of me I will never get back. A part of me that belongs in that grave with you.

I passed my driving test last week. I know you’d be so proud of me but even the simplest things like driving become a pill I cannot swallow when I remember you are not in the passenger seat next to me. You’re not in my bed. You’re not in the shower with me, you’re not inside me. You’re not even three hours away. You’re just.Gone. An absence so consuming that even in a room full of people. I see no one.

I thought this pain would eventually subside. That it would become easier. That waking up every day would feel lighter the more the sun rose a new day but it’s only seemed to have gotten harder. Knowing that I will never be able to live a fulfilled life. I’ve tried. I’ve done it all and It’s still not enough to fill this hole you left me. I published our story. It’s calledCollateral Damage. I thought it was only fitting considering how manytimes you liked to throw it in my face until you suddenly became the very thing that was meant for me. We were both Collateral Damage in a broken system I have tried to mend, for you.

60% of its earnings goes to foster homes or charity for children's programs and the crime rates for child abuse has skyrocketed. I guess my voice was finally heard and I thought this is what I'd want. This accomplishment should make me feel better but I’m finding it harder to breathe. This pressure is suffocating me. And peace is calling to me from the shore. Freedom is no longer fun when you’re not here to experience it with me. My laughter, my smile, my happiness all resides inside of you.

Your mom forgot to mention a vital part in her story. How do you find happiness when you’d already found it in somebody and now it’s gone. I try to move on, to let myself feel something other than grievance but anytime I catch myself smiling, I picture you smiling back at me and suddenly there's a noose around my throat, calling for me to take that leap. You’re right there but I can’t touch you. I can’t hear you. I can only cling to this apparition of you that greets me in my dreams if I’m lucky and I now seek comfort through sleeping my consciousness away hoping that one day I won’t wake up.

I’m not afraid of dying anymore. I’m afraid of living an unfulfilled life without you in it, where I still see you in the walls, in the current of shallow waters, in the ripples against the basin of the shower. In my bed on a stormy night. I can smell you everywhere. Every time I fill up petrol or get in the car. And every time, another fraction of me dies.

I want to be with you. I want to hold you; I want to hear you tell me youLoveme again. I didn’t understand it at first. Why you were so selfish. Why you left me on my own but then I finally came to the realisation, that the only time we wouldtruly ever be at peace together, is 6ft under. We were doomed from the start and the older I get the more I realise that. I’m not over you and I never will be. I don’t want to settle down and move on. I don’t want to date. I just want to be with you.

This guilt I carry, this blame I hold everyday knowing that if I’d of just listened to you, if I had just let you go, you might still be alive. Behind a glass box maybe but you’d be here so I could see you. Instead, my own stupidity got you killed, and I will never forgive myself for that. I don’t deserve to be here, and I hope that once I get to the other side, you’ll forgive me?

So just know that when I do this. I lived as fully as I could. And I went willingly. That this was my decision and this time,you can’t save my life.

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