Page 48 of The Ones Left Behind

"She has no right," my grandma snaps.

"Grandma..." I begin but she stands from the couch, shaking her head.

"No right to ask you to do that. It isn't your job to put together the pieces of what Ben broke. His family damn sure had no concern for him when he was alive, so..."

"That's not fair grandma."

"You’re right. It's not fair the number of times you had to bring that boy here drunk out of his mind so his family wouldn't see the state he was in. The number of times I heard you stay up all night talking to him, listening to him cry. The days you missed schools because you were too afraid to leave him by himself."

"Enough."

Even though her chest heaves and her mouth gets tight, clearly having more to say, she stays silent.

"Whether it was fair or not, I didn’t care, because he was my best friend and he needed me. I was the only one he felt he could turn to, so what was I supposed to do? Walk away from him? I couldn’t, and if he were still here, I wouldn’t. Do you know how badly I wish I could hold Ben right now? How much I wish I could hear his cry again? How badly I want to hear him scream and rage, because then it would mean he was alive, he was still here?"

She softens, tears coming to her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just... I hate the pain I could see he caused you. I know he was hurting, but in turn I had to watch how much trying to make him better hurt you, and that killed me. I see it in your eyes when you think I'm not looking. That pain, that sadness, the turmoil, and it breaks my heart. He was your best friend, and you wanted to protect him from himself. Well, you're my grandbaby, and I can't protect you from Ben."

Her words stab into me like a thousand knives. Because I am in pain, a pain he can't relieve because he isn't here to. And she's right, there's nothing she can do about it because the only thing that could make it better is something I can never have again. My best friend back.

And yes, she saw me trying to help Ben again and again and she hardly ever said anything at all, other than that his family needed to know. She let me be there for Ben, even when that meant the school calling her to inform her that I was absent yet again. Even when that meant me cooking at four in the morning so Ben could have something in his stomach from throwing up all night. She only watched, and now I know she watched me in pain trying to care for Ben, while she was in pain trying to care for me.

She walks forward and gets on the tip of her toes to kiss my forehead. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry I didn't do things differently because maybe then you wouldn't be in the pain that you are now. And I have to bear that. But Elijah, you do not have to bear the burden of telling Ben's family what he was like behind closed doors. It is not your responsibility. And don't you let any amount of guilt convince you otherwise."

I can only nod, too scared to speak around the lump in my throat. My grandma only strokes my cheek one time before going back to the couch. I walk down the hallway to my room, shutting the door and wishing I could do the same with all my problems. I collapse onto my bed. I wasn't tired before, but now I feel exhausted. Even days later, Jolie's scent remains on my pillow, and I pull it over my face and close my eyes, letting thoughts of what she's doing right now take me away from here.

She'll be at work by now, handing out some coins, thankful she has the weekend off. My eyes snap open and I sit up straight, an idea coming to my mind that I all but pray she agrees to. I hurry to get my phone and text her.

Me: What do you think about going away for the weekend?

It takes a few minutes before she replies, and I spend each of them thinking of somewhere to go if she says yes.

Jolie: Please take me away. (And please be serious because if not, I will throttle you.)

Me: Very serious.

I need to get away from here, and I'm sure she does to. Away from the memories, from these houses full of pain. Away from people who can only see us as extensions of someone else, the damaged ones left behind.

Jolie: Where to?

Me: Can I surprise you?

Jolie: Be my guest. You've given me something to look forward to and get me through the night of deep cleaning after closing.

Me: Note to self: Find somewhere where they have manicures for poor, overworked hands.

Jolie: LOL. Now we're talking. Text you when I go on lunch.

I open my laptop and begin looking for places to go. After searching for a few minutes, an ad comes up that makes me finally thankful for whoever listens to every call to be able to show you these. It's perfect and somewhere I know Jolie will love. As for me, I will be happy just to see her smile while we're there.

I look through a few pictures before deciding this is definitely the place we should go and booking it. I exit out of the browser, and my wallpaper comes into view. The last picture me and Ben took together. He's smiling in it and I smile looking at it, knowing that's one of his real smiles, one of the few he gave. We were at a restaurant, and he was so happy that I could tell a spiral was coming. He could hardly sit still, was eating far too much, talking too fast, but I knew it was the happiest I would see him for a while. So I captured it. And it's an amazing memory to have. It's also a bittersweet memory, because every time I look at it, I'm reminded, it's the last time I'll ever see him smile, real or fake.

But I need to let it go now.

I go into my settings and click on a picture of me and Jolie. When I go to click to confirm to set it as my new wallpaper, my finger stills, guilt trying to come rushing in. I click the button and close my laptop, not letting the guilt take over. I've had enough of that for today, and I'm sick of it.

The one thing I will allow myself to feel guilty for is the way I snapped at my grandma earlier. She didn't deserve the way I cut her off and in the end, she has a point. Being there for Ben took a heavy toll on me, and if anyone truly saw it, it was her. Kind of hard to avoid that when my house was the only one he could come to when he was falling apart. And I know she wanted to protect me from all of that, could see it in her eyes when she watched me and Ben. But I know a part of her always understood that Ben was my best friend, and I would do anything I could for him. I also now know how much it hurt her to sit back and let me.

I walk down the hallway and come into the living room. Without a word, she looks at me, maybe sees the apology written on my face, and pats the seat next to her. I sit and she leans her head on my shoulder for a second before sitting straight again.

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