Blush (Rockstar #2) (26 page)

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Copyright ©2014 Kimberly Blalock

BLOOD; RED, WARM, SLIPPERY, and bitter. That’s all that I can see, feel, and smell. The darkness covers more than the sky, it covers my whole life now.

She can’t get out. “Get her out! She’s stuck, please get her out!“

No one can hear me. I’m screaming. My voice is fading into the same darkness that my fear hides in. My hands are numb. The tears are breaking through this life and I don’t think that death can help with the pain. She will not respond to me. Quiet, dark, unwritten words are all that I can see and hear.

The sound is gone and an ear piercing calm comes over me. I can do it. I can do it. I want to save her, but I can’t. I can’t, I can’t move through the darkness it’s too thick, so thick.

“Addie? Are you ok?“ I need to get myself out of this stupid seat belt.

My hand is stretching to grab ahold of her. “Addie can you hear me?“ Be strong Abby. Be strong Abby. Be strong Abby. “Someone please get us out of here!“ My voice is so weak. “Please someone help us!“

She’s so far away. What am I supposed to do? “Addie? Wake up, you’re going to be ok. Addie, please wake up. I’m so sorry Addie.“

I can’t see through the tears erupting through the holes of my soul. Addie’s head is pushed against the roof of the car that is now upside down. My hand reaches for her cold lifeless hand. “Don’t leave me Addie. Please!“

Blood is covering our fingers. If I squeeze and I don’t let go she can’t leave me. “Please. Please. Please. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I love you Addyson. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!“

THE NIGHTMARES ARE HAUNTING my days and nights. Sleep has become a memory at this point. I close my eyes and my twin sister is all I see, so yea, you can say sleep hasn’t been an option for me in a long time.

The last time I saw Addie she was covered in blood and that was the worst moment of my life and will haunt me every day. I close my eyes.

The darkness that fills the room brings back the memory of the nightmare in full force and the tears escape from the locked room I keep them in. I can still feel the warmth of the blood on my hands and hear the crippling silence that takes hold of my fear.

The glow that peeks in through the window from the street lights is the only thing that brings me comfort now. Dr. Kendrick had always said that I had survivor’s guilt.

Addie was brilliant, she wanted to be a doctor just like our dad and while both of our parents are successful surgeons, she was always the daddy’s girl and wanted to be just like him. I, on the other hand, clung to our mom, but I never had the desire to be like my parents, I have my own dreams that I want to follow.

Addie dreamed about finding a cure for cancer. She wanted to save the world and I wanted to write about it. I wanted to be the beams that supported her dreams. I miss her so much. Tears are all I have to offer and that isn’t going to save anyone from anything. It damn sure isn’t saving me from myself.

I don’t deserve to be here, she should have lived and I should have died. Her light was so bright and mine is so dull and on the verge of burning out. The physical pain that I feel is blanketing me and one day very soon I will be covered in darkness all alone and gone forever.

I reach for my buzzing phone that is plugged in next to my bed.

“Hello“ I say knowing my best friend Amy is on the other end.

“So I just met the hottest guy and fucked him in a coat closet at a party. I’m such a whore.“ Amy giggles.

“Is that all you ever do is fuck random hot guys? Can I live your life for five minutes?“ I sigh as I roll my eyes.

“Hell yes you can! By the way I totally just met Luciana Russo and Serafina Manzini.“ Amy says practically hysterical.

Oh I wish I had my best friend’s carefree life.

“Are you kidding me right now? The Super star actress Luciana Russo and Vogue sex goddess Serafina Manzini? What are they like?“ I sigh.

“OMG they are completely fucking hot and I’m telling you if I wasn’t a complete whore for the male species I would totally drool at their feet. They are so sweet and totally down to earth.“

I sigh into the phone because Amy is so brave and here I am in my bed at ten o’clock on a Friday night. I am twenty two years old I should be having fun.

“What are you doing on this fab Friday and please don’t tell me your already in your pajamas?“

I drop my head to the Victoria secret shorts and t-shirt that I decided on for bed embarrassed that she knows my boring ass so well.

“No I am not in my PJ’s and I’m offended actually.“

“Yeah ok doll I know better. Gotta go. Love you“

“Love you too.“ I push the end button and snuggle back into the darkness of my empty room.

The trees are so beautiful
, I am amazed at the beauty as I stare out of my bedroom window, drinking my coffee. I can't believe that this time next week Amy and I will finally be in the same time zone.

I would probably be jumping up and down for joy, if I hadn't sprained my ankle. The swelling has gone down a lot, but it still hurts.

I decided I would run to class two weeks ago to keep from being late for finals, but that didn’t work out. Needless to say, I fell, sprained my ankle, and now it takes me twice as long to get anywhere.

I really am looking forward to my best friend coming home from college, I haven't seen her in what feels like forever and I need my friend right now. Amy has just graduated with her communication degree from NYU. I am proud of her for going for her dreams and probably a little jealous too, although, I would never tell her that. I, on the other hand, haven’t been very adventurous in the twenty- two years I have been given. How can I be? With the accident, and my overprotective parents.

I finished pre-med at UCLA two weeks ago. My father expected that I would follow in my parents’ footsteps.  Being a doctor is the last thing in the world I want to be. Especially after the accident, there is no way I can be a surgeon and deal with death and despair. I cringe at the thought.

I want to be a journalist and I am now, well a beginner anyway. I just landed a journalist position at
Page Six
, a big time magazine in LA. I want to write to inspire people. Unfortunately, my parents have no clue what I am doing, and truthfully, I really don’t either. If my father finds out about this secret it will mean I am unwelcome to be a part of my family, he will disown me.

I am supposed to start the medical program at UCLA in the fall and I don’t know what I am going to do. One thing I do know is that my soul will not survive this too.

Dr. Kendrick, shrink-at-large, said that the anxiety I have had for the whole doctor thing is called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD provided courtesy of someone slamming into my car and killing my sister on our sixteenth birthday.

It is either I’m happy or my father is happy, it can’t be both and I hate him for that. Sitting at that kitchen bar four years ago as I listened to him tell me I would never be a writer killed what little hope I had left in my soul, the excitement I had for life. I was sure that I would never be ok after that and finding who I am as a person would never happen.

I did have happiness for a little while and then that was ripped from my hands too. Marco and I met two years ago in our Chemistry class, it was really boring. We would keep each other entertained while playing movies on our iPads. It became a competition to see who could come up with the funniest or lamest movie from the eighties. I had never looked forward to any class like I did that one.

It has been three months since Marco left to go back home to Brazil. He’s was my boyfriend slash fiancé. He had proposed to me at Laurel Gardens, on the bench next to the fountain, one week before he left. He always said he would be there for me no matter what. But, once he got on that plane I never heard from him again.

A tear falls from my emerald green eye as I remember that day. “Baby I will be back, don’t be so sad, I love you so much,“ he said as he kissed the tip of my nose. He hugged me and then walked onto the plane. I just know that something has happened, but I don’t know where to begin, his cell phone always goes to voice mail when I call. The thoughts that flood my already crazed mind send the tears exploding from my eyes. I want desperately to go to Brazil and find him. I am on the edge, ready to jump.

THE REST OF THE DAY passed with no tears or painful memories, thank God! I walk through the door of my apartment, change from business attire to a black tank and yoga pants.

I drop to the couch, picking up my phone and dial the number that has been on my mind all day. I just want to hear his voice, knowing it will only be a voice mail.

I stand from the couch that sits in my tiny apartment and walk towards the window. This should be the happiest time in my life, planning a wedding, finding the perfect dress, and instead I am trying to figure out how to wake up every day without taking that leap from the heartache that plagues my heart. Dr. Kendrick helped me hang on to the strings of my sanity. Those strings are about to snap though.

The good ole doc was convinced that I needed to find my place in society. I’m convinced she’s the crazy one, nodding her head when I spoke about my feelings like she knew anything about real pain. I would hold my breath during the sessions with her, sometimes I felt better as I waited to explode. My parents insisted I see her after the accident and I continued to until a year ago. I haven’t kept any of my most recent appointments with her and now I think going for a visit may be needed.

Maybe it will all go away once I just explode, and I would be one step closer to normal. My weakness and pain would disappear and I will be whole again. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want this burden anymore either. Truthfully, I am slowly dying anyway. The pain is squeezing the life out of me and I can feel it burn in the pit of my stomach.