Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (9 page)

I enter Chloe’s apartment, heading straight for her room. Digging through her sock drawer, I stumble across a black, leather-bound book. After a few moments of debating whether or not to invade her privacy, I open it.

I skim a couple of pages before I realize it’s a journal. I slam the book closed and put it back in its original resting place. I run around the apartment gathering the things she will need while staying in the hospital. Once that’s done. I sit the bag by the front door and turn back toward her room. I can’t help it, I need to know what’s going on inside that gorgeous mind of hers.

I open the top drawer and grab the book. I sit on the bed and turn to the first page.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I see his face everywhere I go. There’s always something to remind me of what he was and what he became. I can feel the same thing happening to me. The good left inside of me is slowly being sucked from my body a little more each day. I’m not strong enough to fight it. I don’t even know if I want to anymore. The only thing that keeps me here is Skye.

He’s what keeps me grounded, what keeps me sane. But for how long? How long will he stick around before he realizes how tainted I am and turns his back on me?

I’m sick to my stomach; she’s more broken than I realized. I need to find a way to fix her, to glue the pieces of her heart and soul back together. I need to make her whole again.

That fucking beeping noise is back with a vengeance. Why in the hell is it that no matter where I go, I wake up and hear that fucking beeping noise? My eyes are heavy and gritty, I try opening them but I can’t, they feel glued shut.

I moan, but it echoes in my head. Trepidation floods my senses, all the signs point to it, but it can’t be. I didn’t have an accident; I woke up and have been home since Todd’s attack. I’m not in a coma again, I can’t be. I hear a sheet ruffle, then a male voice.

“She should be awake soon. When she does, find me, then we can work on getting her to a room,” the voice that I instantly recognize as Doctor Jacobs says.

“Yes, sir.” I cringe at the strangers chipper voice ringing loudly in my ear.

When the room goes quiet, I try to wake myself up. After several moments, I’m flooded with the memories that lead me to this moment. The images that flash through my mind make me sick.
What the hell did I do?

The cool night air whips around me, the chilly wind bringing all my senses to life. My phone starts ringing, but I hit the end button, and then power it off completely. The farther I get from them, the calmer I feel, so the last thing I want to do is talk to him.

I need to cool off before I can have the conversation I know he wants to have. I reach over and grab the bottle of Jack, place it between my legs, and with one hand, untwist the lid. I try to lift the heavy bottle to my lips with one hand, but it’s difficult since I’m driving, so I pull into a gas station.

While putting the Jeep in park, I notice a police officer pulling into the lot, so I quickly hide the bottle and slouch down in the seat. Fuck, what do I do? By the time I come to a conclusion, the cop is gone, but that doesn’t sway my decision. I power my phone back on long enough to call for a cab.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m climbing into the backseat.

“Where to?” the cabbie asks.

“The cemetery right outside town. You know it?”

“Yep.” That’s all he says before we’re peeling out of the parking lot. He doesn’t talk on the drive there for which I’m grateful. I pop a blue football in my mouth and wash it down when we’re ten minutes from my destination. I don’t know why I chose to go to the cemetery, I guess I figured no one would look for me there, either way that’s where I’m going.

I take another nervous gulp of the brown liquid and let the burning sensation in my throat distract me from the unnerving feeling of where I was about to go. We finally reach the iron gate and I climb out, landing on unsteady feet and tossing the guy a wad of cash. I hesitate momentarily, then stumble a few steps away. I glance back toward the cab, realizing that this is a horrible idea and that I could change my mind and go home, but he’s already gone.

The darkness of my surroundings is disturbing. In the early hours of the morning, the nocturnal creatures are still moving about. Something is scampering around through the forest floor across the road. As its feet shuffle through the branches and leaves, a million different thoughts run through my mind. My mind conjures up several terrifying monsters that could be lurking within the shadows of the wilderness. The noise moves closer and closer as my heart hammers in my ears. The racket is now so close that I think about fleeing from the parking lot, but my feet won’t budge. I’m shaking uncontrollably and my lungs ache from holding my breath until a small rabbit jumps out of the tree line into view.

What the fuck Chloe? You’re scared of a damn bunny. I huff at the mini meltdown I just had in the cemetery and roll my eyes. It’s just me and the hundreds of people that were put to rest over the years. What the fuck am I doing here?

I remember there being a stone bench in the parking lot somewhere and I spin quickly looking for it. When my body stops its rotation, the earth continues to move, causing me to sway. The bench rests under a huge oak tree and I stagger to it, none too gracefully. I have to stop twice to keep myself from falling.

I collapse on the hard, unforgiving bench and look around at my surroundings. I’m sitting in the dark at God knows what time, drunk as hell. What the fuck is wrong with me, I’ve lost my damn mind. I start cackling hysterically at my present predicament. I open the bottle of JD and take several long gulps.

It hits my stomach hard and instantly bounces back up. I spew all over the parking lot, covering my boots in the process. Balling up my fist, I wipe the vomit from my chin and take another large gulp. I back against the ancient oak and close my eyes. You know how you know something or someone by heart that even if you’re not around them, you can still hear the sound of their voice or smell the scent of their cologne?

It had always freaked me out when I thought I heard something like that, but what if it’s not a memory, but someone’s spirit calling out to you? Since my mother passed away, I’ve heard her calling out to me on numerous occasions, especially these last few months. Each time I heard her raspy voice, I ignored it, pretended that I hadn’t heard it, or convinced myself that it was all in my head.

Why would she seek me out now that she’s dead when she hardly said two words to me when the bitch was alive? What could she possible gain from tormenting me now, didn’t she do that enough when she was walking this earth?

I turn and lie on the bench, ignoring the soft sounds of my mother’s voice on the wind. In my movement, I hear the pills rattle in my pocket. I pull out the tan bottle and stare at it.

“Just like your father. Go ahead, Chloe, take another one. You’re just like him, you know. Worthless fucking junkie. That’s what you’ve become,” her voice taunts me.

“Shut up,” I scream as loud as I can. “I’m nothing like him!” I open the bottle with shaky hands. I rationalize with myself that I’m having a panic attack and that’s why I need to take the meds, that’s what they’re for. I convince myself that it’s okay; I’m not drunk, just buzzed, and I had already thrown up half of that.

I finally get the bottle open and take two. Hell, I’d take the whole bottle at once if it made her go away. How anyone can be so mean and hateful to their own child is beyond me. A long time ago, I decided that I wasn’t going to care about what that psycho bitch said about me. I was going to let it all go, move on with my life.

I was going to act like she didn’t exist, but when she was in my ear tearing me down, even in death, how was I supposed to ignore that? How was I supposed to escape my tormentor when I couldn’t even see her?

I lift the heavy glass to my lips and turn the bottle up again.

“That’s it, you stupid whore, drink up. Just like your daddy.” I jump from the bench in a fury.

“Leave me alone!” I grab my bottle and run to the only person that was ever able to protect me from her, Tom.

I trip over several graves before I find his. I can still hear her laughing, but it’s far off in the distance. I take another drink from the bottle, but this time, I notice that there’s a quarter of brown liquid left. Did I drink all of this?

The sound of the cricket and tree frogs distract me. I love living in the south, everything is so southern, no wait, that’s not right.
Fuck it
, I think before I start giggling. I plop heavily on the ground, rolling onto my stomach. I look up at the stone angel staring down at me, judging me.

A few deep breaths later, I find my voice. “I hate you,” I whisper. The words were unconvincing, even to my ears.

“You were the one person I trusted with my life, my heart, and my soul. Why did you stab me in the back? How could you?” I start sobbing loudly.

“You stomped on my heart and left it a mushed up mess all over the floor. You’re just like the rest of them. You swore that you would always protect me from the monsters, and wouldn’t become one.” I pound my fists against the ground. I can still hear the voices of our child-like selves, swearing to protect the other forever.

The pain is still fresh, still consuming every inch of me. “Why?” It’s the only question I can ask so I repeat it over and over again until I’m breathless.

I continue to cry and occasionally release a desperate scream. I can almost smell him lingering in the air, can almost hear his voice trying to soothe me in the way that only Tom could. After a while, my sobs subside. I pull myself up and lean against the angel. I pull from the bottle again; I’m too sober for this. I need more, something, anything to help dull the pain.

I pull the pills out of my pocket again. Opening the bottle, I notice there’s three left; before I left the apartment, there were at least ten. Did I really take them all? That’s impossible, I must have dropped some of them along the way.

I stare at the bars before finally saying fuck it and tipping the bottle up, consuming the rest of its contents. I toss the medicine container to the side and turn up the bottle to wash them down.

My head feels heavy and it’s getting harder to breathe, but I chalk it up to the humidity.

“So, what’s hell like?” I blurt, and then sputter with laughter.

“That’s an awfully bitchy thing to say, but I suppose I deserve that.” His voice sobers me. I drop the bottle of liquor, spilling some on the ground. My lungs seize, my heart stops. My eyes sting from not blinking.

“What the fuck are you doing, Chloe? Do you really think this is the answer to your problems? It certainly didn’t fix mine, just made them worse. You want to end up like me, in a fucking box underground? Cause that’s where the fuck you’re headed,” he states woefully.

“Hi, pot! I’m fuckin’ kettle,” I retort. Finally, I spot him to my right. His form is a barely visible, translucent glow, but he’s there I can feel it in the air. There’s this warm, serene essence surrounding me. The blurry figure moves closer and I can feel a peaceful feeling take over.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. You know that right? I was stupid. I made a horrible mistake because I was a selfish prick, only worried about me and my next fix. I fucked around with the wrong people, got backed into a corner and well, you know the rest. You have to know that I never meant to hurt you. You do know that, right? I would have never intentionally caused you any sort of pain. I love you so much it hurts, even in the afterlife. I’m so sorry for what I did, I wish I could take it all back. If I could, I would do it in a second.” His voice is so sorrowful, breaking on the word never and making my heartache. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him. The blur moves even closer.

“Never in a million years did I ever expect this to happen. But, it did and I would do anything to be able to fix it or make it up to you. Please don’t hate me. I would never be able to rest if you did. I spent my entire life protecting you, loving you, and I will spend my afterlife doing the same, whether you want me to or not. Even though you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here, I will always be here.” A small, grey wisp touches my chest right over my heart as he speaks. “I will always take care of you, Chloe, that’s what we do. We take care of each other. Forever and more, right? You and me, forever and more, you promised. You remember that?” He sniffs lightly and laughs at the memory of us in the tree-house hiding from our parents and vowing to always be there for one another. Who knew a childhood promise would mean so much.

“I love you, forever and more,” I whisper. My head is swimming with emotions; I’m blinking rapidly trying to hold in the tears and the hurt, but the more I fight it, the heavier they get.

“You need to go home, Chloe, you need to make it right with Sara. She was right, you know,” he states.

I shrug before whispering, “You saw that?” I plop to the ground, pulling my legs in so that I’m sitting Indian style on the cold, unforgiving ground.

“I’ve seen every single thing that has happened with you since I left this life. You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easy, did ya?” He chuckles.

I don’t know what to say to that. If he saw me, he already knows what a mess I’ve become. I don’t have to wait long before Tom fills in the sorrowful silence. “What are you doing here, Chloe?”

“I just needed to get away,” I quickly state.

“Really? You hitched a ride outside town to hang out in a cemetery with your dead best friend just to get away? You do realize we’ve met before, right. I know you better than that, hon. You came here to see me for a reason. Quit wasting time; I know why you’re here, but I want you to say it so it becomes real.” I fucking hate when he’s right.

“Why? What did I do to make you turn away from me like that? I get close to someone and they always hurt me in some way or another. They always betray my trust. Why am I not enough? Why am I not loveable? What did I do to deserve all this, pain?” I whine.