Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1) (2 page)

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked, starting to panic.
 

"Kallie, Carter was in an accident last night on his way home from DC," she told me, and then pulled me in her arms.

"Oh, no! Is he okay?" I asked, trying to spin away and leave to go see him.

"Kallie," she said, tightening her grip on my arm. I stopped and turned to look at her. Tears started running down her face as she shook her head. "I'm sorry. He's gone, Kallie," she cried. "He ran off the road and crashed into a tree. He didn't make it."

The world around me went silent. I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. I felt every fiber inside me crumble and break into tiny pieces. As my insides collapsed and broke down, so did my body. I sat on the floor and heard the loud cries coming from deep inside of me. My mother knelt on the floor beside me and held my hand as I fell apart. After what could have been hours, my father helped me to my room, where I stayed all night.

Staring at the ceiling late at night, I tried to process what I was told. Carter couldn't be gone. He was an amazing person with a bright future ahead of him. It wasn't possible that there was a world without Carter Walsh. I couldn't imagine a Kallie Adams without Carter Walsh. I curled into a tight ball and sobbed my eyes out until sunrise.

The next few days went by a blur. Friends and family came to tell me how sorry they were. I would nod and thank them, feeling numb and dead inside. Carter's brother, Josh, came to see me. He told me the plans for the funeral and asked if I would speak at the service. Josh looked at me with pity as he told me about the accident. He gave me hug before leaving and promised to check in on me.

The funeral was a little over a week after the accident. There was an investigation at the crash scene, and my parents kept me updated, although I barely listened. Carter made it just within the state of Ohio before he met his fate. He lost his life only four hours from home, all alone. Skid marks at the scene suggested Carter was doing the speed limit. Toxicology reports showed Carter wasn't under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. I could have told anyone that. Carter never has, and never would, do any drugs of any kind.

As more details started filtering in, I completely blocked them out. I couldn't hear about how he died almost instantly. My mother seemed to think that it made me feel better knowing that he didn't suffer. My father thought it made me feel better that the accident wasn't Carter's fault. They talked about how the weather or maybe a drunk driver, or even an animal in the road, could have caused him to run off the road. According to them, I should feel better that it wasn't Carter's fault.
 

Nothing made me feel better.
 

Friends tried to get me out of the house to get my mind off it. I couldn't understand why anyone would think I could forget. All I could think about was that whatever I was doing, I should be doing it with Carter. After six years of being together, I wasn't sure how to be without him. I couldn't get out of the habit of checking my phone for his messages or calling him every morning.
 

The morning of the funeral, I woke up feeling more empty inside. I dressed in a black, tea length dress. I put on a pearl necklace and kept on the charm bracelet that I wore everyday. Then, I pulled my blonde hair into a tight, neat bun on the top of my head.Taking a deep, shaky breath, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red from the nights of crying, and my lips were chapped. I sighed and sulked downstairs to my parents' waiting car.
 

I was surrounded by friends and pulled into hugs as soon as I entered the funeral home. My eyes stayed locked on the closed casket on the platform in the front of the room. Carter's mother and father stood near the front, greeting guests. My own parents mingled and chatted with people, like it was just another social event. I took a seat alone in the middle of the room and waited for the service to begin.
 

I started to cry and a stranger handed me a tissue at some point during the service. I recognized the woman as Carter's aunt from New York that I had met at Christmas dinner a few years ago. The preacher spoke of heaven and God. Carter's mother told stories of her youngest son growing up. The words were muffled in my ears as I tried to keep myself from melting to the ground.

"Now, Kallie Adams has a few words to say. She was Carter's girlfriend of six years and our family is grateful to have known such a wonderful young woman. We are sorry she never became a part of our family officially," Carter's mother cried from the podium.

Josh helped his mom down the steps and back into the front row. He grabbed my hand and gave a gentle squeeze as I passed by on my way to the podium. Standing before Carter's friends and family, I played with the charms on my bracelet. My hands shook and my eyes burned from the tears. I took the tear-stained paper from my pocket purse and laid it out on the podium. Taking a deep breath, I started the only speech I’d ever made without his help.

"When we were in high school, Carter and I competed over being top of the class. We pushed each other. We were both named Valedictorian of our class our senior year of high school. That meant we were to give speeches at our graduation ceremony. Carter stayed up all night with me the night before to help me with my speech. The next day, at graduation, I gave my speech before he did. When Carter came forward and gave his speech, he left the auditorium in tears. Every single one of us. His speech blew mine out of the water," I sniffled, and some people chuckled softly.
 

"But, that was how he was. Carter was great at everything he did. He was brilliant and focused. Carter possessed a drive and motivation that I have never seen in anyone before. He gave his best effort in every single thing he did. He excelled in school and work. He loved fiercely and deeply. He laughed with such happiness that you couldn't help but laugh, too. He smiled with such brightness, it could warm the coldest of hearts," I paused as I wiped away tears.
 

"Carter would have continued to be amazing in everything he did in his future. He would have changed the world when he started his career in politics. He would have made an amazing husband and father. He would have been the best friend to anyone lucky enough to know him. The world is missing out on something great and spectacular. I'm lucky to have known him and to have loved him.” When I finally finished, I broke down and let the tears flow as I made my way back to my seat.
 

Kallie

Weeks went by in a haze. I walked around empty and lost. My parents went about life as if nothing had happened. My mother bugged me with little things to try to evoke some kind of reaction from me. Thankfully, my father avoided the topic of school at dinner for a few nights. I couldn't even handle the thought of going back without Carter. The morning I woke up and saw the large white tent in the backyard, I snapped.
 

I dressed in the all white dress my mother had picked up for me, filled with anger and resentment for having to go through today. I applied my makeup and put on the charm bracelet from Carter. He gave it to me the first year we were dating and added every charm on it over the last six years. I fingered the white-gold, heart charm.
 

Grabbing my phone and purse, I ran down the stairs and hopped in my car. I never looked back as I sped out of the driveway and away from that house.

I pulled over to the side of the road and let out a deep breath. I was sick of driving after four hours and was glad to have finally found my destination. I traveled up and down this road for over an hour looking for this very spot, unsure how I didn't see it when passing the first few times. I looked out the window at the tree on the other side road. Wreaths and flowers surrounded the trunk of the tree in memory.
 

I put the car in park and opened my door. My legs felt weak as they carried my body across the street. I knelt down in the moist grass as tears blurred my vision. Notes and cards from friends were covering the base of the tree. I reached out and ran my fingers over a framed photo of Carter with his high school soccer team. My throat closed up and I choked on the sobs breaking free.
 

I had to see this spot for myself. I spent every night for the last two weeks sitting at his grave site. I put my rose on the top of his casket before watching him get lowered into the ground. I saw his name carved permanently in granite. Now, I had to see the spot were his life ended. Friends from home and school made the drive to this little town, but I needed to make this trip alone.
 

I looked at all of the cards filled with "I love you" and "I miss you" messages. Photos of Carter smiling with friends and family were stapled to the tree and around the ground. The grass was torn up with tire tracks, and skid marks were still evident on the pavement.
 

Anger filled me and I punched the bark of the tree. Standing up, I kicked and pounded on the tree. The rough bark scrapped my hands, but it didn't make me stop. Tears soaked my face, and I cried out as I lashed out at the inanimate object in front of me. I kept hitting the tree until all the energy and anger temporarily left me.

I sat back down on the soft ground and leaned my back against the tree, picking at a blade of grass and tearing it in half. I thought coming here would make me feel better, but now I felt even worse. I thought seeing the spot where he died would give me some closure and that I would have somewhere to leave my anger and blame. Instead, I sat here feeling stupid for thinking I could blame a tree. Cater would tell me I was being irrational and emotional if he were here right now.

It feels like only yesterday that Carter and I were packing up my dorm room to make the drive home. We were dancing around my room and stuffing my things into boxes. I kissed him goodbye and told him I loved him at my car. I wished him good luck and waved to him as he pulled out of the parking lot of the campus.
 

He would never make it back home. It was the last time I would ever see him. He would never see me, or his family, after that. Today, he was missing my graduation party.
 

I stood and made my way back to my beat up car. Looking at my phone in the center console, I found eighteen missed calls and twenty-something text messages. I tossed the phone into my purse. I closed my eyes and laid my head back against the headrest. I couldn't stand being there today without Carter. I didn't think I could stand being anywhere without him.
 

 
Carter was a huge part of the person I was today. We were together for most of high school and all of college. He helped me and held my hand every step of the way. After six years of being with one person, revolving around one person, how was I supposed to move on without him? I begged my parents to cancel the party, but they insisted that it would be "good for me."
 

I glared daggers at the tree that ripped my heart right out of my chest. My insides felt tangled together, and my eyes burned from the tears. I put my trembling hands on the steering wheel. The silver ring on my finger unraveled me even more. Memories of the night Carter placed the five-year anniversary gift on my finger flashed through my mind.
 

I smacked the steering wheel and started up the engine. After several turns, the old car finally came to life. I didn't know where to go from here. I should have gone to the cemetery instead of making the ridiculous drive to see the tree Carter hit with his car, the place he took his last breath. At least in the cemetery I felt like he could hear me or was looking down on me. I felt nothing but anger here.
 

Hearing my phone vibrate in the seat next to me reminded me of another reason I drove here. I was avoiding home. I was avoiding seeing anymore sympathetic faces, or worse, faces pretending everything was the same. I was avoiding the friends Carter and I had made over the years as a couple. These people felt like strangers to me now that he wasn't here. I was avoiding his family that would surely come, to show support for the girl they thought would someday be family. Every face only made my heart break more.

I pulled my car off the side of the road and drove to the nearest town. Driving any further would take me out of Ohio. Small brick-faced shops lined the quiet street. Flower pots lined the sidewalks and one red light stood at a four-way junction. I felt like I stepped into another time, one in the past. I sat at what seemed to be the only red light in the town and looked in the window of an antique shop.
 

I parked on the street and looked in the rearview mirror at myself. My eyes were red and swollen. My hair was frayed and falling out of the neat bun it was pulled into this morning. I saw a coffee shop down the street a little way, so I grabbed my purse, figuring I would walk down and use the restroom to clean up and pass the time. Eventually, the calls would stop and people would realize I was not going to be there.
 

I stepped out the car and straightened my dress before taking off toward the cafe. The aroma of coffee assaulted me as I opened the door. The shop was long and narrow with a counter on one side of the room with a few small tables and chairs on the other. The place was decorated with vintage signs and artwork. The browns and blacks brought a warm and cozy feeling to the place.

Spotting a door in the back labeled “Restroom,” I headed back before anyone could see me in my disheveled state. I locked the door behind me and dusted the grass and dirt off of my bare knees. I dug through my purse and retouched the makeup I expertly applied this morning. After reworking my long hair into the bun, I sighed and opened the door. The cafe was still empty, but voices told me at least some staff were still hanging around.

A young guy, about my age, appeared before me behind the counter. He had jet black hair, about chin length. His eyebrow and bottom lip were pierced, along with even more jewelry in his ears. His arms stretched out before him on the counter to hold himself up. They were covered in colorful tattoos from the wrists to under his short sleeves. He would look intimidating if it weren’t for his eyes. They were a chocolate brown that radiated warmth.