Nightmare in Niceville (14 page)
My mom must have brought it here for me. Maybe reading would put me to sleep. I chuckled at the thought and opened the book, glad that I had something to do. I was soon lost in the symbolic and heartfelt story . . . again.
“J
acob . . .”
I called out his name in the dark, but he didn't answer. And then I saw his face. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking.
“Please tell my mother that I love her and I'm sorry,” he said.
And then his body floated, hovering above the seats in the theater. I reached out my hand and tried to grab him, but he was too far away. I looked down, feeling someone's eyes on me.
Jacob's mother was standing in the front of the theater. She was holding a bottle, and took another swig. She swayed back and forth, crying and drunk.
“Mrs. Andrews?” I whispered.
She grabbed onto the top of the seat, but her hand slipped, and she fell to the floor. The bottle smashed, shattering into a dozen pieces.
“Where's my Jacob?” she wept. Her eyes suddenly grew angry.
I pointed to the ceiling where Jacob's body had floated, but he was no longer there. Where was Jacob?
“I need to find Jacob,” she slurred. “He's the only reason I stopped drinking.”
She stared at me, and suddenly we were in someone's kitchen. The blue tiles looked old and dirty, and the sink was piled with dishes. Dust covered every surface. A picture of Jacob sat on top of the microwave and another was taped to the fridge.
I followed Jacob's mother as she stumbled across the kitchen to the back door. She banged into the glass and paused there, looking too tired to move. She fumbled with the doorknob, leaving it stained with red, then finally pushed the door open. We walked upon the soft grass. It felt so soft and cool on my bare feet.
She turned to me. “Where's my Jacob?” she asked.
I shook my head. I couldn't speak.
I continued to follow her up the wooden stairs to the pool. She crawled up them slowly, like a dying animal. We were at the edge, and I couldn't look away from the glistening, blue water. We were both entranced.
“I can see it now,” she said longingly. “Local woman drowns in her own pool.” She chuckled. I wanted to grab her and pull away from the edge, but I remained still. She leaned forward, and I tried to stop her from jumping in the water, but my arms wouldn't move.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
I blinked, and we were in Mrs. Andrews's living room. She was sitting on her tan sofa, her hair in disarray, tears streaming down her cheeks. In her lap was an envelope. Her hands were hovering above it, quivering.
I looked her in the eyes. “May I?” I asked. She nodded, and I grabbed the envelope from her lap, opened it, and managed to read it despite the blurriness of my eyes.
Mrs. Andrews,
I apologize from the bottom of my heart that I could not tell you this in person, and I'm also very sorry that I have to tell you this at all. I am sorry for your loss. Always know that you are not alone. Everyone must go through hardships in life, and they must learn through their struggles. Some more than others, unfortunately. But that night at the movies, I was there moments before Jacob was taken from you. And he called out a message to me. He said to tell you, “I love you Mom, and I'm sorry.” At school, he wasn't very open, but that statement was the most emotional and beautiful thing I'd ever heard him say. I could tell that he loved you very much, and again, I'm so sorry I had to send this letter to you at all.
Sincerely,
Emily Michaels
I fell to my knees and looked at Jacob's mother, recognizing the pain in her eyes. I grabbed her hand.
“Mrs. Andrews, I'm so sorry,” I said. “I'm just so sorry.” I looked over at a picture of Jacob that was hanging above the fireplace. “I'm sorry, Jacob . . .”
My eyes flashed open. I couldn't see Jacob's picture anymore. His mother had disappeared. I was panting, and small beads of sweat soaked my neck and forehead. A tear dropped onto the pillow by my ear. I was in a room filled with neutral colors, and fast-paced beeping pounded in my ears.
“Emily!” a voice exclaimed. I looked over to see my best friend's face staring at me.
“Lily!” I said, and the tears started to stream down my face. They were confusing tears filled with happiness, relief, bafflement, and fear all at the same time.
“You're finally awake!” Lily said happily. She snapped a phone shut and set it on the table between our beds. “How are you feeling?” she asked worriedly.
“Confused,” I said. My body felt sore, as if I had been used as a punching bag.
“I was confused when I first woke up too. Well, if you haven't noticed, we are in a hospital,” she said quickly, as if she was trying to spit the words out as fast as possible. I looked around the room, and all the beige colors made sense now.
“A police officer will want to talk to you soon. His name is Officer Drake, and he already talked to me earlier. That's who I just called; I forgot to tell him something.”
I nodded, feeling so, so tired. Tired to my very core. A tired that even sleep couldn't fix. I didn't want to talk to anybody, not even my closest friend.
“Oh! I'd better call a nurse so they know you're awake,” she said, and reached next to her leg and pressed a button that was attached to a cord. The button clicked and lit up.
“Has my mom been in here?” I asked.
“Not since I have been awake, but she might have been in before. I'll ask my mom when she gets back,” she answered.
“Okay. Um, how is everybody?” I asked hesitantly. She looked at her hands and fidgeted uncomfortably. I knew that meant she didn't want to tell me the bad news. I braced myself.
“Well, Scott and Sarah are both still asleep, I think. I haven't heard anything about Luke or Angela.”
“And everyone else . . . didn't make it,” she said.
I nodded and looked at the ceiling. I wished the lump in my throat would go away. I was really tired of crying.
“Emily?” a voice called from the doorway. Lily's mom, her little sister Ashley, my mom, my dad, and my older brother Tyler all filed into the room.
My brother had been the one to call my name.
I
shuffled into my familiar room. It smelled like home. I sat on my bed and carefully positioned myself into a comfortable spot. Mom brought up some homemade chicken soup and a glass of water, and set it on my nightstand.
“Are you sure you'll be okay? I can do my paperwork in here so you're not alone.”
“No, Mom, I'm okay, I promise. I'll just be sleeping after I eat anyway.”
She paused and looked unsure of what to do. “Okay sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.” She kissed my forehead and left my room.
I looked around and felt conflicted. I was happy to be alone in my calm, peaceful room, but I was terrified to be alone anywhere. I hated the color of my walls, but they were strangely comforting. I missed Scott. And surprisingly, I missed my dad in some weird way. But I would never see him again because . . . I didn't want to think about it. I snatched my phone and texted Scott, Emily, and Sarah.
Scott: Text me when you wake up . . . we still have a date to go on!
Emily: Elephant shoes, bestie. I love you.
Sarah: Sarah, I don't know what to say except thank you. From the very bottom of my heart, thank you. And I am so, so sorry you had to go through all of this madness. I'll talk to you soon.
I ate my soup and sipped some water. I nuzzled into my bed and drifted to sleep, hoping to God I wouldn't remember the nightmare I was sure to have.
S
enior year. I couldn't believe it had finally arrived. As I got out of Emily's car, I saw Scott standing there, waiting for me with a smile. We were both going to New York University next fall, and I couldn't be more excited.
A car screeched in the school parking lot, and I jumped. Scott gently caressed my back.
“It's okay,” he murmured in my ear.
Yes, it was okay, but I couldn't help but flinch at every little noise. After all we had been through . . .
The school had hung pictures of all the lost faces on the walls. The smiling faces forever stolen from us. Newspapers still wrote articles on what had happened every once in a while. People still gossiped. But as I felt Scott's warm hand intertwined with mine, I was content. Luke and Angela were still going strong. Angela was going to a community college while Luke got a football scholarship from Florida State. I still worked at the same quiet little bookstore with Jean, who was dating Brody, though they wanted to go to different colleges. Emily hadn't dated anyone since that night. She was happy to be with her family now. She and Tyler were closer than they had ever been before. Ashleyâoh, little Ash was the love of my life! She had grown so much! She was getting so big and so smart it made me want to cry.
School was a breeze this year. I had knocked out all the hard stuff early, and now it was just the grand finale, the cherry on the sundae. The days passed quickly, but it was the nights that got me the worst.
So much had happened over the last two years. We all had managed to get through it, to survive it. After that night, I took a month off from school. I just couldn't face the stares, the whispers, the rude and personal questions. I couldn't face the fact that my friends were dead, and part of me still believed it was my fault. Did other people blame me? I wouldn't be surprised if they did.
I thought about my father a lot, and my nightmares never really went away. Gun shots. Screaming. Blood. Tears. The fire alarm ringing and ringing. But they were different nightmares. My father would be standing over me, a devilish grin on his face, and then suddenly his face would morph into a blur. I would hear him calling my name, but his voice would change. And then that man would be standing over me, a bloodied knife in his hand. But it wasn't my father. My father was dead.
The man, whose name was Ian Rogan, had been sentenced to life in prison without parole. All of usâthe survivorsâand our families had attended his trial, and we all stood on the stand with tears in our eyes. I didn't know what was worse: that night, or having to see him again. It was hard on everyone, having to relive that nightmare, but we'd made it through. We'd survived and grown stronger.
“Emily?” I said. She looked up at me and smiled. Then it disappeared again. I stopped in front of her, then dropped my books, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed me back, and I felt tears on my shoulder.
We had all changed, but Emily was more subdued, quiet, and reserved. It was as if she'd lost her spark that night. When we'd returned to school after the incident, she couldn't help but cry all the time. Or stare off into space. Sometimes she had panic attacks. Not even medication could help us.
I thought back to our first day of school after the incident, when the wounds had still been fresh.
“Everything I see reminds me of . . .” she hadn't been able to finish the sentence.
“It's okay, I'm here. We can do this!” I had said, giving her the same pep talk I'd given myself. I knew exactly how she felt. She sniffed, then pulled away. She smiled through her tears, and looked around, quickly wiping them away.
“Everyone knows. They all stare at me. They're staring at you,” she said, looking over my shoulder. I turned to see a group of people whispering and glancing at us.
“All of us are going to be the gossip of the school now. I mean, I'm sorry I can't be little Miss Perfect all the time! You know, more than half of the guys that used to talk to me won't even look at me now? It shows what kind of people they are. It's not like we're freaks now or something,” she stated.
I scowled. I really didn't want to deal with gossip. I hated it. Ugh! People were so rude! I walked right over to their little group, and by the time I'd reached them, they'd all gone quiet, their eyes wide.
“Look, I'm assuming you've read the papers and seen our faces on the news,” I said looking them all in the eye. “That means you know how much we've all been through . . . too much! So if you don't mind, we would appreciate it if you would all shut your mouths and not make this harder than it already is for us. Thank you.” I turned, leaving them speechless, and walked back to Emily and Scott, who had joined her, and they were both staring at me like I had just shot something. I smiled, but understood their shock. I had surprised myself even. I would never have done that before this mess happened.
Like I said, we had all been changed. I found a backbone. Emily found out that not everyone was a true friend. Luke and Angela appreciated each other more than anything in the world. Would I sacrifice these lessons to get our friends back? Yes, times a million, but since I couldn't do that, I needed to remember them as good people and to never forget that they were gone.
Scott, Em, and I walked through the entrance of the school, grateful that our senior year was finally here. As we stepped into the hallway, students milled around. Some were talking in groups by their lockers, others were scurrying to their next class. The three of us paused for a minute and took a deep breath.
When I looked down the hall, I saw Sarah smiling back at us. Angela walked up next to her and put her hand on her shoulder. Everything seemed to slow downâpeople were moving at snail's speed all around me. Luke was attached to Angela's side as always. Jean and Brody stopped next to them, Brody's arm around her. Above their heads was a banner of Max, Rachel, and Jacob's faces. Suddenly, it was like they were there again. They came from out of nowhere, glowing like angels. Max was fiddling with his jammed locker, but paused to look at us with a wide and toothy grin. Jacob was leaning against a wall, pretending like he didn't have a care in the world. Rachel was putting on lip gloss and giggling as her blond hair bounced around her face. I saw them there, all of us together again. I missed them. I missed the bland, normal, day-to-day attitude. I missed boring Niceville.