Authors: Abby Wilder
Forever Blue (28 page)
Cara
Everyone around me died. My sister. My boyfriend. My mother. My step-sister. I was the bringer of death. I was cursed.
Of course, I wasn't self-absorbed enough to think it was directly my fault, but I couldn't help wondering if I hadn't come home from boarding school, would any of this have happened?
I didn't think I could sit through another funeral, but I found myself perched on the front pew, staring at the same minister, behind the same pulpit, my hand clasped by my father's and staring at a photo of a smiling Lennon. It looked nothing like the real Lennon. Well, not the one I knew. She had one of those fake 'photo pose' smiles plastered on her face. It was the first time I ever thought she looked like her mother.
Many of the people who came would have only known her as Sienna's cousin the week before. Puruwai was a town where everyone knew everyone else's business, but very few people actually knew each other. The townsfolk had a sick fascination with death. Most people referred to it as the 'community coming together'. I called it 'gleeful morbid curiosity'. They hid it behind tears and masks of sadness, but I knew the truth.
It was the same at Lana's funeral. People filled the small church to overflowing, but very few of them she would have called her friends. Ruben's was a little different; most of the people in attendance actually knew him. People loved him, but I was beginning to wonder if he had fooled us all.
Mum's funeral was the most genuine, the most real. It was a quiet affair, attended only by the people who loved her. It wasn't a big crowd, but it was enough. Sickness didn't bring as much drama as sudden death. Judah was there. He sat at the back, alone, and stared at me with mournful eyes. He was alone at Ruben's too, though his parents sat either side of him.
I had hated Judah for so long it was hard to stop. Even when I knew the truth, I struggled to believe it. It wasn't until we took turns trying to bring Lennon back to life that I truly saw his pain and recognised it for what it was. It was guilt, but it wasn't the kind I had thought. He blamed himself for his brother's death, not because he had any hand in it, but because he couldn't stop it, just like I couldn't stop Lana's. Or Lennon's.
While we waited for the ambulance, he told me it was all his fault. But he was wrong. I was the bringer of death, not him. They were all connected to me.
We never really spoke about it, though. There was no point in assigning blame. It wouldn't bring any of them back. The police suggested I be the one to call Shelley, that it might be better if she heard it from a family member rather than the police. I snorted and said we weren't family. But I should have been the one to make that call.
After the police finally left late that night, I told Judah I didn't want to be alone. He sat on the couch and held open his arms. I crawled into his lap and we stayed like that all night. He didn't speak. He didn't move. He was just there. And finally, I fell asleep in his arms.
When the sun woke me the next morning, Lennon's dad was waiting on the steps. He took over the plans for her funeral, and when Shelley and Dad arrived home a few days later, Shelley looked as though she had aged ten years. Dad said the news broke her.
I was there when Sergeant Dickson arrived and told Shelley that it had been ruled a suicide. At once I felt both relief and sadness at the lie. Shelley just sat on the couch with Dad's arm wrapped around her shoulders, shaking her head and muttering 'no' over and over. That's when the sergeant turned to me and thanked me for my efforts in trying to save Lennon. He thanked me. Of course, he didn't know the truth. He didn't know that I knew the stupidity of what Lennon wanted to do. He didn't know that even though I knew I was the bringer of death, I stood by and let her drive that stupid car off the cliff. It's still there at the bottom of the lake. Judah asked them to leave it. They didn't need it for evidence. They had two witnesses. I don't think Judah had the strength to resurrect it again. Once was enough. Or maybe once was too much.
When Shelley reached across to embrace me and whispered against my hair, "Thanks for trying to save my baby girl," I wanted to be sick.
I should have never had to try to save her. I should have stopped her.
The minister droned on about Lennon and the people who would miss her the most. He talked about Shelley and me and my father. He called us her family, and I guess, for the first time, I almost felt like we were. Shelley sat on the other side of dad, her knuckles white as she gripped onto his hand. Dad was being strong. He had to, I guess. He needed to be for Shelley. But I knew it hit him harder than he admitted. Maybe he felt like a death bringer too. Maybe we both were.
Lennon's Grams sat like a statue. I couldn't imagine how she felt. Judah went to visit her the day after it happened. He wanted to be the one to tell her, but she already knew. The police had been there before him. He said she was walking the corridors of the nursing home, calling out Lennon's name.
Lennon's dad sat on the other side of the church. His partner, Melinda, cried silently, tears rolling down her cheek, and patting Blue's back as she held the baby against her shoulder and rocked slowly back and forth. Blue made noises that only babies make, and even though she was just a few weeks old, she smiled at the people behind her.
Sienna Deacon sobbed loudly and hid in Ross's chest.
Judah sat alone at the back of the church and stared blankly at the picture of Lennon. He believed her when she said she could see Ruben. I didn't. But I still stood by and let her sail over the edge of a cliff as though it were normal for people to claim they saw the dead.
I was amazed how quickly people accepted the reason for her death. I thought that more would question it, at least those closest to her. But even Sienna said she saw the signs. Lennon withdrew from people. Spent a lot of time alone. She kept secrets. The changes in her appearance. Some people even told a story of seeing her arguing with no one in the school carpark. Part of me wanted to yell and tell them it wasn't the truth, blame them for believing a lie of someone they claimed to love. But what other explanation could I give? And when I thought about it, I realised I was guilty of doing the same thing to Judah. I believed something that denied everything I knew about him. I guess grief does that to people.
When the funeral was over, Shelley, Dad, Grams, Robert, Melinda with baby Blue in her arms, and I all stood in a line and shook people's hands as they exited. Shelley cried and embraced person after person until I wondered where she found the strength. Robert thanked them, though I don't know what for. They weren't here to lend support. They were here to relish in the scandal. And I hated them for it. Grams clutched on to my hand when the hundredth person muttered, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
She leaned in close and whispered. "I hope she haunts every one of them."
I almost laughed at that. Almost.
The crowd hung around the church, talking in hushed tones of things they had no idea about. Judah stood alone at the edge of the crowd. Sienna and Ross approached him and Ross stuck out his hand. I think it was finally dawning on the town that none of it was Judah's fault. Too much had happened. Judah nodded once and shook the offered hand.
I started to walk over to him, but stopped when I saw Sienna's little brother staring at a tree, a perplexed frown on his face.
"Hey, little dude," I said. He didn't respond, just stared at the tree and fumbled around in his pocket. "Hey, little dude," I said again and poked him. "You okay?"
He ignored me, took out his phone and pointed it in the direction of the tree, snapping a photo.
"Weirdo," I muttered and moved away. A few people reached out to embrace me but I pushed past them, ignoring their surprised look at my rudeness. Hopefully, they put it down to sorrow, but the truth was I didn't care. I needed to get out of there. I needed someone who understood.
Judah stared at the sky, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. I stood beside him.
"Things have got to get better, right?" he said.
I didn't answer. Instead, I put my hand into his pocket and threaded my fingers through his.
He looked across at me and smiled sadly. "I've always loved you," he said.
I squeezed his hand and let my head fall onto his shoulder. "I know."
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it. Please consider leaving a review and telling your friends about this book. It really does make a difference. A review doesn't have to be long, even a few short sentences would be gratefully appreciated.
To Kelly C, Kelly K, my mum, Louise, Summer, Adrian, Storm, Judy, and Michelle, thank you so very much for being my beta readers. And to the rest of my writers' group, Southern Scribes, thanks for putting up with my painful questions and listening to the debates on how I chose to end the story. Also to Angela, thank you for the last minute read through before the final upload. I can't wait to return the favour.
I would like to particularly thank Kelly C, Kelly K and Adrian for their feedback and enthusiasm for Forever Blue which helped me add the finishing touches.
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Abby Wilder is an author from the South Island of New Zealand.
Since a love of reading has been a constant in her life, she couldn’t imagine anything better than being a writer. She wrote her debut novel, Girl Behind Glass, in 2014 and has kept writing ever since.
Abby has one husband, two children, three cats and a dog called Joss.
For further information visit
Behind Glass Series
