Life After (11 page)

“I remember you were pretty pissed off at me.”

“Well
, see you interrupted me trying to cut my own wrists. Life was so dark for me those first few months after the accident. All I wanted to do was join my family and leave here. Then you barged in and I was so pissed off and worried that you would see what I was trying to do and the fact that you stopped me from killing myself. I mean seriously…what are the chances that would happen?”

I’m not sure how long we stand there holding each other but after awhile I pull back and look up into his eyes. Then down to his lips, his soft lips that aren’t smiling right now. Those lips have helped me so much when I’ve needed a boost. Lifting myself up on my toes I gently pull his head down and place my lips to his.

“You saved my life that day.”

The days pass quickly as we near Christmas. I’m not going to lie; I’m starting to feel really down the closer it gets to Christmas. I can’t explain it exactly but it is almost like a dark cloud has descended upon me. I’m snapping at Avery, Jenny and Andrew for no reason.

It hurts watching them make Christmas cookies and I have to leave the room when they turn on the Christmas movies. I start sobbing when Christmas Vacation comes on for crying out loud. I’ve been keeping to myself more and spending lots of time in my room. I haven’t even bought any presents yet because quite honestly I can’t bring myself to do it.

I crave that pill bottle like candy, but since it’s gone there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve been taking long walks down to the little park about a mile away just to get away from all the holiday festivities.  I like watching the leaves fly around and dance. I like the silence the park provides. I’ve even started bringing my camera out with me and taking pictures of the swirling red and orange leaves.

Kicking some rocks out of the way I lay on the ground to take some pictures. I’m pissed off at myself because I was doing so well not being depressed and being normal but as usually it can’t last because that would be too easy right?

Avery finds me lying in the middle of a grassy field trying to get a certain angle for the picture I want. The sound of crunching leaves pull me out of my picture taking daze as I feel him lie down beside me in the grass. Snapping the picture I eye him on the grass making himself comfortable.

“So this is where you go everyday when you leave the house?”

“Pretty much.”

“Talk to me, Hadley. You’re clamming up and it’s worrying me. We were doing so great and now you’re always angry. I hardly see you anymore. I miss your smile. I miss you.”

Swallowing my guilt I roll away from him. Getting up my right knee starts to give out and I have to reach for Avery to steady myself. Not looking at him I start gathering my camera and lenses putting them in my camera bag. I don’t have to face him and see the disappointment on his face but I end up stumbling and slamming into Avery’s chest.

“So you’re not going to talk to me? How is that going to make anything better?”

“It won’t.”

I look up at him warily and try to sidestep him but he beats me there. Avery looks like he is getting really frustrated with me. I can tell by the way his nostrils flair
out his eyes narrow. Good maybe he will go away and leave me alone in my pity party.

He walks next to me
and I’m the one getting really frustrated. Why won’t he take the hint? “Why can’t you just leave me alone, Avery?”

Hurt crosses his face. I’m ashamed of myself for talking to him like that but I can’t keep bringing him down with me. He turns around and starts to walk away. My heart drops to my stomach. Hanging my head as
he retreats, I can’t do it. I can’t watch him go... I’m going to have to explain myself to him and I’m so very scared to. I love him so much that I don’t want him to be disappointed in me. But at the same time how it is right for me to be happy? Making my decision I call to him.

“Avery!” I yell moving as fast as I can towards him, “Avery! Stop, please!”

I can’t run after him so if he doesn’t stop all will be lost. I’m walking with my cane as fast as I can through the park. I don’t see him at first and a feeling of dread comes over me and then as quickly as it came it is gone because there in front of me is Avery waiting with his arms crossed looking angry.

Breathing heavily, I have to bend down to catch my breath
, huffing and puffing in front of him. “What do you want Hadley?” he asks impatiently.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper looking at the ground.

Looking him directly in the eye I open my mouth and everything pours out about how depressed I’ve been during the holidays without my family. I tell him how scared I am of falling for him only to lose him. I even tell him I can’t bring myself to buy presents for anyone because of the guilt I feel. I keep going and the words keep running out of my mouth like a landslide.

I let him know how angry I am and how sad I am. I tell him that I’m
terrified if I get attached to him, Jenny and Andrew and something happens how I will be alone again. I tell him I don’t want to bring him down by my moodiness so I’ve been staying away. I tell him how much I like being around him but I shouldn’t like it because I shouldn’t be here to enjoy things, I was supposed to die that day.

I didn’t realize I was crying until his hands come up to my face and wipe my cheeks. He puts both of his hands on each side of my face and lastly I tell him the most important thing. I tell him again how much I love him and how terrified I am that I’m going to lose him and that if I do I wouldn’t—no, I couldn’t recover from that.

Staring at him I feel so liberated that I opened up to him that it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. I smile through my tears. He looks at me pushing my hair behind me ear. “You can’t live the rest of your life worrying someone is going to die or leave you, Hadley. I’m here for you for as long as you will have me, but you can’t keep shutting me out like this.”

Making my decision I place my hand gently into his as he pulls me towards him into a long toe curling kiss. “It’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to us or to our relationship to keep doing this to us.”

Tilting my head up at him I look up at him thoughtfully, “Are we in a relationship? Or what exactly are we?”

“Damn straight we are. If you think you’re ready to accept all this manliness that is in front of you for your boyfriend.”

“Well, thank you for letting me know that vital information. I’ll go let my other boyfriend know about it and see how his masculinity compares.” I deadpan back at him.

“It’s good to know your sarcasm is working at a ten today.”

Wiping my nose and eyes on my jacket, I know gross but whatever. Taking a deep breath and I relax in the knowledge that it is okay to love someone. He laughs confidently, picks me up draping me over his back caveman style and walks back to the house with me staring at his nice firm backside.

Sitting in the plush waiting room of the psychologist’s office I look around. They have tried very hard to disguise the fact that it’s a psychologist’s office by making it look homey but it’s not calming my nerves at all. I’ve been stressed all morning and waiting here is killing me. I’ve almost thrown up twice since coming here and my fingernails are chewed to the quick.

I’ve even received the evil eye from a lady sitting kitty corner to me. I didn’t realize I was tapping my leg but it was going a mile a minute. I evil eye her right back and she looks startled and goes back to her knitting. Oh, I’m a bad ass giving evil eyes to old ladies. The door slams shut in the office next door and I jump out of my skin. Snort, oh yeah such a bad ass.

I should have let Avery come with me and not tell him to go find something to do for an hour. I shouldn’t have lied and said I’d be okay alone but I was trying to be an adult and not have to bring him. Pulling out my phone and stare at it debating if I’m going to send him a text asking him to come sit with me.

A lady comes out of the office wearing a dark red pantsuit…nothing somber or anything doctor like. She has glasses and her hair is twisted into a bun.  She reminds me of Tina Fey, her eyes scan the waiting room and come back to me and asks “Hadley?”

I’m so engrossed in debating about whether or not to call Avery that I fail to hear someone calling my name until the old lady across from me pokes me with her knitting needle. “Did you just poke me?” I’m aghast that she poked me, those knitting needles are no joke. Rubbing my arm I hear my name called and look up to see who is calling me.

“Hadley
Gracen?”

I nod at the woman anxiously.

Gulping I stand up, grabbing my cane and purse. I look at the lady with the knitting needles and grab them from her. “Keep these from that old woman until she leaves; she likes to poke innocent people with them.” I tell her as I hand the needles to the front desk receptionist who is looking at me with her mouth wide open.

Turning, I follow the
psychologist into the room. It has deep grey walls and a very large comfy looking burgundy couch. I hear water running and look to my left and notice a small table rock fountain. I know the fountain should be soothing but it just makes me have to use the restroom.

Turning to me she holds out her hand with a soft smile, “I’m
DeAnna Thomas and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Nodding to her I shake her hand while looking around.

“Nice room feels homey,” I say softly.

“I’ll let the decorators know.”

Drawing this introductory meeting out I look to her desk, it’s a nice dark desk covered in a mountain of papers. I scan over it and stop. My eyes land on a silver recorder primed and ready to record my most personal thoughts. Groaning inwardly, I’m so not feeling too keen on this whole thing. She’s lucky I promised Avery and Jenny I’d do this.

Wandering to her desk she fumbles through her pile of papers as she motions for me to sit before she takes her seat in the chair across from the couch. “Just give me a second, I have to get set up and then we can get started.”

My nerves get the best of me as I bite the skin on the inside of my lip drawing blood. Glancing at the door I mentally count the steps it would take for me to get to that door. Finally after what seems like hours but in reality is actually only minutes she looks up, totally unaware of my wandering thoughts.

Crossing her hands in front of her, “So, Hadley…your Aunt met with me last week. She said you were in an accident about nine months ago and you were the only survivor?”

I nod quickly and slouch down into the couch.

“So why are you here?”

Scrunching up my face, “Didn’t you just tell me why I’m here?”

“No, I told you what your Aunt told me. What I want to know is why you are here. What do you want to get out of these sessions?” She looks over at me waiting for my response.

Tapping my finger on my leg I think about that question, what brings me here? I’m not sure what I want to say. Do I tell the truth and have her think I’m loco, do I skim the truth or do I tell her verbatim why I’m here in her office? Do I drag these appointments out or do I just get them over with?

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Hadley?”

Looking up I cock my head to the side. “How do you know something’s going on in my head?

“You look like your mind’s going a mile a minute.”

Taking a deep breath I look over at a picture on the wall squirming in my seat and finally start pouring stuff out to a person I met ten minutes ago. “I’m here, well I’m here because I don’t know why I lived and they didn’t. I don’t feel like I deserve to live but I’m here because I want to learn to live again,” I whisper.

“Why don’t you think you deserve to live?

“I just don’t,” I huff out. “I wasn’t that perfect daughter, you know?” I hate being questioned like this. It makes me feel stupid. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Of course we can, Hadley,” she says looking down at her notes sifting through them. “Your Aunt say’s your adjusting well to living with her but you are still having nightmares?”

“If you saw what I saw you would have nightmares too.” Closing my eyes a chill runs down my back thinking back on the accident. “It’s like I relive the accident every time I go to sleep.”

“I don’t know what you saw, Hadley. Why don’t you tell me?” she responds in a placating voice. What is with this woman and repeating my name every other sentence? I know my freaking name. Burrowing into my
hoodie so she won’t see my face when I’m talking. Why is she doing this to me? I don’t want to remember. Sighing my eyes drift to hers in defeat and I finally start talking.

“I saw them die. I saw my dad’s head smashed into the window. My sister’s blood covered my body. My mom’s seat was pushed back into my legs. I saw it all.”

It feels hard to breathe. Like my lungs won’t release the air, my hands are getting clammy and I’m shaky. What’s happening to me? I rush to continue, “I can’t get rid of the smell of blood. Every single time I close my eyes it’s there, that tangy metallic smell. It’s as if it never left my nose. Do you know what it feels like being bothered by the smell when you know it was someone you loved? How small minded of me to be worrying about the stench of it when they died because of it.” Pausing, I rub my hands over my eyes trying to staunch the flow of tears before I continue. “The screeching of tires and the crunch of metal gets worse every time I sleep.” Wiping more tears away I continue reliving that night. “I can still feel the blood from my sister seeping out onto my body. I even called to them,” I whisper. “But they never answered.”

Sniffing I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and a tissue appears in front of me.
DeAnna appears to be a bit affected by what I told her.

“Do you know what the worst part is?

She shakes her head.

“The worst part is that
I’m the reason my Dad took his eyes off the road. I should have been the one to die. Not them,” I say sadly. Looking out at the window I tell her about that night. “I didn’t want to go to the recital. I was supposed to go to a friend’s party. Mom and dad knew I had been looking forward to this party. Most of all I was looking forward to seeing this guy I liked. I knew this was my chance for him to see me as girlfriend material. I was pissed at them for making me go to this thing. I mean I graduated high school and was going to start at the community college in the fall. So I was beyond old enough to stay at home. But they forced me to go, said it was a family thing and I needed to be supportive of my sister. I told my Dad I hated him. He looked at me from the mirror and just as he did that the truck slammed into us.”

Removing her glasses,
DeAnna puts her thumbs to her forehead and rubs. “You know you are not the cause of this accident, right, Hadley? A truck driver fell asleep at the wheel causing him to cross the lane into oncoming traffic. The only way it was preventable was if he hadn’t fallen asleep or you all weren’t driving at that time. You in no way caused this. You did not cause the accident.”

Wiping my cheeks I hear what she is saying but it’s not reaching my heart. “My Dad died thinking I hated him – how can I live normally knowing
that?

“Hadley,”
DeAnna says as she’s writing in her notebook, “Let me ask you a question—did you ever say goodbye to your family?”

I think back to that day, remembering the funeral, it’s a bit hazy but I clearly remember walking off before their caskets were put into the ground. “No,” I murmur, “I didn’t want to see them put in the ground,” I say honestly.

She taps her pen against her leg and looks at her watch. “That was a fast session today. We made some good ground, Hadley.” Walking over to her desk she grabs a folder and a journal. Handing me the packet of papers and journal she says, “This is your healing project from me. It is an exercise I do with grief patients. Do as much as you can and bring it back to me when we see each other next week.”

“I didn’t realize I’d have homework,” I say sifting through the papers.

“Call it a healing project, Hadley not homework. I really think it’ll help you gain some closure and help you to start healing from your loss.”

Looking down at the paper I read a sentence that makes my stomach churn. There in bold black letters; write a goodbye letter to each of your family members. “A letter to my family? You’re joking right?”

“Nope I’m not joking. Each week you will write another letter and add it to the packet. I want you to bring them in as you finish each letter. This week work on a letter to your father.”

The panic hits me like a battering ram. “I can’t do this. I can’t say goodbye to my family.” My lungs fight for air in an attempt to stop the attack. I know my face must show my shock because she holds up her hand and motions for me to sit back
down calm as can be.

“Calm down. Breathe in through your nose and Breathe out through your mouth,” the psychologist says.

Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth takes a lot of concentration, so much concentration that I concentrate more on that than the panic attack. DeAnna walks towards me and kneels down so she is eye level with me.

“You can do this you need to do this.” She pats my leg in a motherly fashion. “This is what we are going to be working towards. You being able to say goodbye and being able to accept that they are gone.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Oh and before you leave here is a pamphlet for a group with people your age dealing with loss,
its run by a friend of mine and it helps to talk to people who have had similar experiences.”

Nodding I turn the pamphlet over and put it in my pocket before I leave the room.