Page 82 of Starstruck
I shakily breathe in, keeping my eyes glued shut.I may be alive, but my parents aren’t.
I exhale slowly, trying to calm my breathing as I press two fingers to the pulse point on my wrist. My heart rate is erratic, and I can’t quite catch my breath as my tears fall faster than I can keep up with them.
I reach for my phone on my bedside table. Through blurredvision, I search for the contact I’m looking for—the only person I want to talk to right now—and press call, holding the phone up to my ear.
My leg shakes as I listen to the ringing. It continues a few times before I hear a click, getting the voicemail. I shouldn’t be surprised—it is nearing four in the morning.
I leave a brief message, stuttering through my tears. Then I hang up and drop my phone on the bed beside me as a sob racks my chest.
I scramble out of bed toward my bathroom. I turn on the tap and splash cold water on my face in an attempt to force my temperature back to normal. Tears continue streaming down my face, my breathing staggered as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
After the accident, I was having nightmares almost every night. Usually some variation of the accident, sometimes my parents were there and alive, other times it was just me in the car. But I haven’t had one in months, and none of them were ever as vivid or real as this one.
Because this one wasn’t just a nightmare—it was a memory.
It wasthememory.
I thought at that moment that we were all going to die. If only I’d known then that I’d be forced to grieve the loss of both my parents instead.
Dying would’ve been less painful than losing them has been.
I thought I was doing better. I still miss them, of course—I will for the rest of my life, and I do still feel like I’m to blame for the role I played in the accident. But it hasn’t been a constant thought in my mind. I haven’t been thinking about the fact that they’re gone, instead trying to focus on all the ways they’re still with me.
But I guess God or the universe or whoever the hell is controlling my life doesn’t want me to forget. Not that I ever could. That day changed my life, and it will stay with me until the day I die. I will forever wish it had been me who died instead of them, but I’ve alsocome to realize beating myself up over something that was out of my control doesn’t do anybody any good.
Except here I am, being tortured with the memory of the accident as I’ve finally started to move on.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.
Once my breathing slows slightly, I make my way back to my room, climbing into bed. I curl up on my side, folding into myself as my tears stain my pillowcase, my mind running wild with images of my parents.
Talking with Dylan and Paige yesterday must have triggered something in my mind. Something that caused the memory of the accident to replay over and over.
Haunting me.
Tormenting me.
Reminding me of just how much I’ve lost.
Convincing me once again that I’m the reason they’re dead.
No matter how much I distract myself, or how many times people tell me otherwise, that feeling has never really gone away. I can numb it, I can pretend like it isn’t there, but no matter what I do, nothing will ever fully make me stop blaming myself.
I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force myself to sleep in hopes it will shut my mind off for at least a little while.
But sleep never comes.
[35 ]
MOMENT OF TRUTH
BAXTER
“SOLDIER” BY GAVIN DEGRAW
“Bax.” Lennon’s voice is strangled as she says my name, followed by a stuttered apology for leaving me a message in the middle of the night.
My heart crawls further up my throat with each croak of her voice. She’s crying. Why though, she doesn’t say, and that worries me even more.
