The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) (27 page)

“There’s nothing to tell,
Brayden
.”
 
I was staring at the wet brick of the pavement, commanding all memories and feelings to disappear.
 

“You’re lying.
 
I know you are.”
 

“Just leave it alone,
Brayden
.
 
Please.”
 

“My sister is
dead
, Lucy.
 
Dead
.
 
How am I supposed to leave that alone?”
 
I could hear the undercurrent in his tone.
 
He was
blaming
me.
 

“You think I don’t know that?”
 
I was suddenly fueled by anger as I whipped around to face him.
 
“I
watched
her die.
 
I was
holding her in my arms
.”
 

“Why didn’t you
do
something?”
 
His tone was flooded with accusation.
 
I balked, incredulous.
 
“It’s your fault she’s dead!
 
Everyone you get close to—”

“You’re right,
Brayden
.”
 
I cut him off before he had the chance to finish his sentence, knowing where he was going with it.
 
The tears began to flow.
 
“It
is
my fault.
 
All my
fault.
 
It should have been
me
who died.
 
I’m well aware.
 
If I could have switched places with her, I would have done so in a heartbeat.
 
I wish I could have taken
all
of their places.
 
Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch everyone you care about leave?
 
Everyone who cares about you?
 
Any idea how alone it makes a person feel?”

“Lucy—”

“No—no,
Brayden
.
 
I can’t
do
this.
 
I can’t be here; I can’t be in this stupid dress with this stupid hair and this
stupid
makeup.”
 
And I was tearing at the dress, ripping apart the thin chiffon material, running the back of my hand crudely across my lips to remove the lipstick.
 

“Lucy—”

“I’m all alone,
Brayden
.
 
And that’s exactly how it should be.”
 

And with that, I was running.
 
I hurried past him and down the hall, not caring about the strange glances in my direction.
 
All I needed was to get out of there—to get away from everything.
 

It was difficult to run in the heels, and I tripped at one point, tumbling down and ripping the dress even more than I already had.
 

That was where I remained, sitting in the grass with my head in my hands, overwhelmed by tears and grief.
 

I cried until there was nothing left, and even then, I remained where I was for several moments afterward, trying to get my bearings.
 

It was then that I realized where I was, surrounded by darkness save for the moonlight.
 
Green grass surrounded me, cool and moist under my touch.
 
In front of me stood a dark stone, with deep engravings.
 
I reached forward without thinking, touching my hand to her name, closing my eyes in some vain attempt to feel her.
 

“I’m sorry,
Phe
.”
 
My voice sounded fuzzy to my own ears, strained and forlorn.
 
“It should have been me.
 
It’s my fault.
 
I should have been there.”
 
I guided my fingers through the smooth engravings.
 
“I wish it could have been me.”
 

I traced the engravings once more, taking them in.
 
Loyal friend.
 
She had been loyal.
 
She had
been loving
, and she had been loved.
 
And it would have killed her to see me like this.
 
To know how I felt—the pain, the guilt, the angst.
 
She wouldn’t have wanted it at all.
 

Loyal
, I thought, tracing the word once more.

“I know what you would want for me.
 
And I owe it to you to try.”

At that point, I
laid
down, pulling my knees up to my chest, broken and alone.
 

“Please forgive me.”
 
It was barely a whisper, but a strange sense of solace flooded through me as I said the words—a bit of the weight lifted from my chest, a bit of the pain dissolving.
 

And in my mind, I imagined my friend sitting down beside me and pulling me into her, wrapping her warm arms around me.
 
I imagined her lending me her shoulder, as she had done so many times before, and letting me cry for as long as I needed.

A reality I longed for, but knew I would never again have.

Eventually, I pulled myself to my feet and walked the rest of the way back to my apartment, taking in the quiet of the streets around me.
 
When I finally reached my apartment, I didn’t even bother stripping out of the dress before climbing into the shower, letting the water wash everything away.

It was then that I realized I could no longer stay here—then that I decided that it was time I move on with my life—time
I
kept the promise I had made so naively.

***

It all happened very quickly after that.
 
I filed all the necessary forms—most of which had already been given to me before I’d decided to return to school.
 

Early graduation.

I spent the weekend packing up what few belongings I planned on taking with me and taking care of my lease, making basic arrangements.
 
The Monday I was to return to school after prom, I found myself instead loading bags of luggage onto the street, a cab driver helping to load them into his vehicle.
 
I heard his voice in the distance and I did my best to ignore it—much like I’d been doing all weekend.

But then he was at my side, his hands on each of my arms.
 
“Lucy—”

“
Brayden
, just stop—please.”

“What are you doing?”
 
I knew he was sorry.
 
I could see it in his eyes the night of prom—he regretted saying everything he’d said the moment it came out.

He’d been right, though.

“I’m leaving,
”
 
I
pulled away from him, turning to throw a large purse in the backseat of the cab.
 

“Where are you—
”

“I’m going to let Ellie and Ryan
know
when I get there.
 
I just—I can’t stay here,
Brayden
.”

“But—”

“You said it yourself.
 
I’m cursed.”
 

“I was just—
”
 
I
silenced him with the shake of my head.

“It’s true.
 
Everyone who cares about me gets hurt.
 
The past doesn’t lie.”

“That was just bad luck, Lucy.”
 

Just bad luck
, I thought, almost laughing.
 
Maybe he was right.
 
Or maybe, it was me.
 
Even in the broad light of day now, I felt that darkness deep within me…the darkness that had always been there, but had only just recently been realized.

Brayden
placed his hands on my shoulders.
 
“Please—I’m so sorry—please don’t go.”
 

“I can’t stay here,
”
 
I
repeated with another shake of my head.
 
“Tell your parents I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye—”

“You can’t go.
 
I—”

“
Shh
,
”
 
I
touched his cheek softly.
 
“It’s the only thing left for me to do.”

And with one last look, I ducked into the cab, quickly ordering the driver to go.
 

I did not look back.

The plane ride passed in a blur, my mind occupied with what I would find waiting for me once I reached my destination.
 
Everything had happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to make many preparations.
 

My plan, though, was to arrive and find a motel to stay in near campus, until I could find an apartment.
 
At last, I found a reason to be grateful that I had applied to so many colleges, despite planning on going to UCLA with
Phe
.
 
If not for that, I may not have had an out.
 

The University of Massachusetts had been thrilled to accept my enrollment.

When I exited the small airport, I immediately began looking for some form of transportation—a shuttle, a cab—anything that would take me closer to my destination.
 
It did me well to keep my mind occupied.
 

I continued to remind myself that this was a fresh start—I would start over, and
this
time, I wouldn’t get close to anyone and I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.
 

I couldn’t.

Because as much as I hated to admit it,
Brayden
was right.
 
Everyone around me either died or disappeared.
 
I didn’t want to put anyone else through that—let alone myself.
 
There was something inside me—something that had been awakened the moment I realized this other world existed.
 

Logically, I knew that there was no such thing as being cursed.

Then again, I had spent most of my life thinking there was no such thing as vampires either.
 

It only took a few moments to find a cab and get situated.
 
The driver tried to make conversation here and there, but I answered with such little enthusiasm that he eventually gave up.
 
Normally, I would have felt badly about being so rude.
 
But it had been a long few weeks—no,
make
that a long few months.
 
It extended even further back than
Phe
and—again, I wouldn’t allow myself to think his name.

I was doing as he asked.
 
I was moving on with my life.
 
I was forgetting that he had ever existed.

Except that the relentless void in my heart served as a constant reminder that he
did
exist, and that I
had
loved him.
 

I loved him still.

But, with time, I hoped I would learn to ignore such pains.
 
Pains not only caused by his loss, but by the loss of those few others that I had loved throughout my life.
 

***

The motel was very small—similar in many ways to the one I had spent so much time in recently.
 
It served its purpose, though.
 
I checked in and spent the first night situating myself and getting comfortable—once even venturing out so as to explore the area.
 
It was with high hopes that I returned to the room, thinking that perhaps, for once, I would be able to get a good night’s rest.

It was a fruitless hope, as I spent that night much in the same manner I had spent those previous—restlessly tossing and turning, working diligently to quiet the murmur of thoughts as they passed through my mind.

The second night, after learning my lesson, I stayed out later, silently observing my surroundings.
 
It was a historical town, but lively still—especially in the fall, I imagined.
 
I took everything in, trying to block out simple reminders that would take me back to my past.
 
Something as simple as a tree would cause such a flutter in my chest that I would almost need to pause for a moment to catch my breath.

When the restaurants and businesses turned off their lights, I took that as my cue to return to the motel.
 
As soon as I entered the room, I could tell something was different.
 

And then I spotted it—a simple black frame lying in the middle of my temporary bed.
 
I approached it tentatively, uncertain of what to expect.

Tears immediately flooded my eyes as I saw the contents.
 
I lowered myself to the bed, holding on to the frame with a heavy heart.

It was the sketch of
Phe
and
I
, sitting on her balcony.
 

“I can’t see you, but I know you can hear me,
”
 
I
said quietly, not taking my eyes from the sketch.
 
At last I recognized the sensation I was feeling—it was
him
.
 
“I know you want me to move on, and I’m trying.”
 
I traced the shapes of our smiling figures gently with the tip of my finger.
 
“But could you please—just for tonight—stay?”

There was no response—nothing visible or audible.
 
But as I readied for bed, I felt him there with me.
 
And as I climbed beneath the blankets, the feeling remained.

For the first time in a month, as soon as my head touched the pillow, I slept.

***