The next day seemed to reflect my mood; rain poured down in torrents, and the first spring shower of the year pounded the landscape. Trees blew in the chilling wind, raindrops slammed against every window pane in the house, and thunder boomed angrily.
At breakfast, the tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Eric sulked because of the disagreement with Uncle Todd the night before, Aunt Beth nibbled her toast with a pitiful expression and claimed to be suffering a terrible migraine from all the havoc the day before, Uncle Todd retained a snottily unaware attitude from his dispute with Eric, and I picked at my food listlessly, thinking of all the unlawful plots of wicked revenge I could hatch up in my mind to get back at everyone for all they’d done.
I rose from the table without asking to be excused, and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I tore off my neatly ironed shorts and polo, replacing them with my old distressed jeans and tee shirt. I dug my hoodie out of the bottom on my drawers and slipped it on as well. I combed my bangs down into my face, and lined my eyes in black. I smiled at myself in the mirror, and ran downstairs to the front door.
“Cora Lynn Cook! What are you WEARING dear?!”
I ignored my aunt and walked out the door. She opened it and hollered after me.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING IN THE POURING RAIN?! GET BACK IN HERE THIS INSTANT!”
“I’M GOING FOR A WALK! I’LL BE BACK FOR LUNCH!”
I carelessly yelled my reply over my shoulder, then put my hood over my head. I wanted to run; run far away from them all. I wanted to run back home and find my mom and dad and sister and brother all waiting for me with smiles on their faces, I wanted life to be how it was before that idiot with a twisted mind destroyed my family.
When I finally stopped running, I looked up and saw myself at the street running through the neighborhood. I squinted my eyes against the blinding sheets of rain, and saw a house across the road from me. Luke’s house.
I barely knew him, but what he had done and said made me realize he was a kind person. I half wanted to walk across to his front door and knock, then ask if I could talk to him, but what was there to talk about? Plenty, while at the same time nothing. I could talk about that night I got home and found my family dead, I could talk about how I was very lonely and wanted my brother back, I could talk about how the sick jerk who killed my family would never be found and he’d get away with it, while at the same time I’d already thought it to pieces in my mind, and I felt like letting it all go and just resigning to who my aunt and uncle wanted me to be, because I had no strength left to rebel, and for all I cared I wished I could go back to the revolting house I was supposed to call home now and find my aunt and uncle and cousin stone dead with their throats slit, but this time I wouldn’t run from the killer, I’d throw myself at his feet and beg for him to take my life to, at least then I wouldn’t have to live in a tortured dream of an existence fighting for what’s left in my empty little world, which was nothing. Nothing at all. I had nothing left to hold on to. I might as well die.
Die. Yeah. It sounded so eerily simple. So eerily simple, that I was convinced.
“That’ll solve EVERYTHING,” I began talking aloud to myself as I quickly trudged down the road to a lake I’d remembered seeing on the way. “I’m just a burden to Jayson anyways, I’m the reason he got in trouble with Uncle Todd; if I hadn’t of been there Jayson wouldn’t of had to defend anyone.”
I picked up my pace, arms folded, hood over my head, wet hair plastered to my face. I got louder.
“Here, let me give that killer what he wanted; I was supposed to die too. Let me freakin’ kill myself and do him a favor!”
I began running as fast as I could, tears mingled with black mascara running down my face. I couldn’t survive another 3 years of this hell of conceit and pride, ending it would make everyone happy; they’d be better off without me anyway.
“YOU WIN!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs to no one in particular. I lifted my face as I stopped on the slippery stone bridge, teetering dangerously close to the edge.
“YOU WIN, OK?! I’LL DIE! KILL MYSELF! PERFECT SOLUTION, RIGHT?!”
“I think not.”
Just as I was letting myself fall over the edge, a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind. I senselessly struggled, I was sick of this, whoever was holding me back needed to just let me go.
“Cora, get a grip on yourself. Committing suicide doesn’t fix anything.”
I felt myself being turned around, and found myself face-to-face with Luke.
“Committing suicide doesn’t fix anything,” he repeated. “It doesn’t help you deliver justice to your family’s killer, it doesn’t help your brother have anything to hang onto, it doesn’t help your aunt and uncle see that you won’t let them get the better of you.”
His green eyes looked straight into mine, and he was panting from trying to catch me in time. He spoke again.
“I saw you standing across the street from my bedroom window, and I decided to come down and talk to you. But when I got outside, I saw you walking down the road, so I decided to follow you. I’m glad I did, too.”
I ducked my head, black tears dried on my cheeks, not knowing what to say.
“You’d better get home; your aunt probably wouldn’t be very happy if you weren’t home for lunch.”
I stumbled across the bridge, my mind in a daze from how quickly my thoughts had escalated into a deadly decision. Looking behind me as I began walking across a field to get home faster, I saw Luke standing on the bridge, still looking at me, hands in his pockets, pieces of damp hair stuck to his forehead.