Twisting Fate Page 3

  After we pull into the driveway of my house and my mom runs out the front door like a crazy person, is when I remember I escaped from the hospital and didn't tell anyone where I was. This should be good. Now, I get the pleasure of being yelled at for acting stupid. I'm about to get out of the car when Simon grabs my hand. "Kinzleigh, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you're having to go through this. I know it sucks losing someone you care about, but at some point it'll get better. I'll always be here if you need someone to talk to. Just call me, okay?"

  I look at him and I know he means well, but I don't like to be pitied. The truth is he has no idea how this feels. He's never loved someone like I love Breyson and then lost that person in a split second with no forewarning. This feeling is something you can't describe to someone else. It's one of those things you have to witness firsthand to even begin to understand. Feeling this way makes me wonder what kind of drugs the person had to have been on that came up with the famous phrase; It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. It makes me wonder if they ever had to experience loss by death or just loss by being abandoned. That phrase might make more sense if I had more time with him, but a few short months just isn't long enough.

  "Yeah, thanks Simon. I'll talk to you later, okay?" He lets out a deep breath and nods his head. Opening the door, I step outside and begin walking toward my very angry mother. She looks mentally and physically drained and her eyes are puffy like she's been crying. I slow my pace, not knowing what to expect.

  The closer I come I recognize the terror on her face. It's the same look she had when Konnor was experimenting with drugs. "Hey, Mom. I'm sorry I left the hospital. I just couldn't be there anymore. I had some place I needed to be. I didn't mean to make you worry." Her tears fall free and she grabs me into a tight hug.

  "I was so worried about you. Don't ever do that to me again. Come on and let's get you to bed. You need to get some rest." Sleep sounds amazing right now. My mind is exhausted. The best thing for an overworked mind is to escape into the land of dreams; the one place you can forget about all the bad in the world. Maybe if I go to sleep I can see my blue-eyed boy again. Once my reality was like a dream and now I'm escaping reality to turn to my dreams. It's strange how the tables can turn so quickly.

  Walking into my room, I see something white peeking out from underneath my bed. I don't remember seeing that before. I come to the side of my bed and kneel down onto my hands and knees. Grabbing it in my hand, I tug it from beneath my bed and gasp when I realize what it is. It's Breyson's undershirt from the last time we were together before we left for the airport. The memories trample my mind like a stampede of us making love right here on my bed. The last time it was just the two of us before everything shattered around us: before the baby, the crash, and my episode. The tears spill over as I clutch it to my chest. His scent, still present, floods my nostrils and the memories take over ever facet of my mind. Every single one bombards my mind full speed; from the time we met on the beach, to the first time we made love and even my birthday when he told me he loved me as well as the New Years Eve ball. My vision begins to fog and the anxiety takes over.

  In a panic I remove all of my clothes except for my panties and pull his shirt over my head. I quickly pull back the covers and get in the bed that we shared just before he left. For the first time since I woke up today I let every memory run wild. If I don't let them then they will slip away like sand through my fingers and I can't let that happen. I will just have to be forever in sorrow, because he deserves to be remembered for the amazing person that he was. "Why did you leave me, Breyson? I only asked you not to leave me. Is that so much to ask? I can't live without you. If you wanted me to live without you then you shouldn't have made me fall in love with you. It's not fair for you to just love me and leave me. I want to come with you. Please take me with you."

  I'm crying so hard I have to work to breath steadily. Why do bad things happen to good people? I don't understand. I need to understand. Just make me understand. I've never once in my life wanted to die. I've always had a great life and then it was amplified when I met him and cheerleading took off, but right now I don't care about any of it. I want to be with him and the only way to be with him is to die.

  I never understood depressed people. Honestly, I thought some of it was just exaggerated, an excuse for not living life to the fullest. They say that a vast majority of good health is mental. Maybe that's the truth because right now the pain is so immense, I physically feel like I'm shutting down. The pain is coursing through my body; igniting like flame to gasoline. I feel like I'm burning alive while it continues to spread, devouring every inch of my flesh. As much as it hurts, I can't seem to put out the fire, only to welcome the pain.

  Chapter 2

  Leigh

  When you have kids they don't come with a handbook on how to raise them. No one prepares you for what it’s like to see your children in this much pain. A mother doesn't want to watch her babies hurting. If I could, I would take away the heartache she is feeling, even if I had to go through it myself. I knew when she brought that boy home for the first time he was the one. He was the boy she was going to marry; call it mother's intuition if you want, but I knew. Then to confirm it he ended up living in the very place we moved.

  I'm one of those people that believe everything happens for a reason, but it's times like these, as a human, I can't help but to question why. She's a good kid. I've never had any problems out of her and the one time she allows herself to venture out and enjoy herself a little something like this hits her full speed. I haven't even begun to process the information of her being pregnant. I thought I taught her better than that, but it's not my place to judge her mistakes. She will learn from it soon enough; nine months to be exact. I have to be her support system, even as much as I want to scream and yell at her for not using her head. Kids are amazing, but they require a lot of love and money to raise them. It takes every bit of two parents to raise a baby. How is she going to raise a baby herself? I don't know how to help her. Usually, I’m pretty well anchored when it comes to sticky situations, but for the first time I'm clueless.

  I sit on the couch trying to come up with some way to comfort her; to make her feel better, but I'm coming up short of ideas. I’ve never been through anything like this before. The phone starts to ring and I almost let it go to the answering machine, but decide against it. Reaching beside me, I pick up he cordless and answer. "Hello?"

  "Leigh, it's Ava. Is she home?" She sounds panicked and tired. I can't imagine how she must be feeling at this moment, after losing a child, because I feel like I've lost a child and Breyson wasn't even part of my blood. I guess when your child loves someone, you kind of start to love that person too. It makes it easier when it's a likable child.

  "Yes, she's home. I haven't gotten the courage to ask her where she's been yet. She didn't look too good when Simon brought her home and I'm scared to upset her with this pregnancy situation. How are you doing, Ava?"

  She begins crying over the phone and sniffling. "I just received a call from the airline. They've searched the site where the plane went down in the water and they haven't found any survivors. They're having what they can of the plane brought up, but they said it would take a while and most likely all they would find are bodies. They advised me to begin making memorial service arrangements. My baby is really gone. I had a little bit of hope, but he's never coming back. I wanted to let you know so you can tell Kinzleigh. I need to go." She disconnects the call and I just stare out into space. This is what I was afraid of.

  I might as well get this over with. It's not going to get any easier. Maybe she can begin to heal if she has some kind of closure. I stand and make my way to the staircase. It takes all of my strength to make it up the steps. No one ever wants to accept that their mate is forever gone. It's one of those things you deny until you die. Everyone wants the happily ever after, but this is real life. You have to accept the good, the bad, and the ugly. I come to her
door and hear her crying on the other side.

  Easing the door open, I realize the lights are still on. When I walk inside her back is facing me. "Kinzleigh, I need to talk to you."

  "Can. We. Talk. Later." She mutters and pauses between each word with a cry.

  "No, Honey, it can't wait." Walking across the room, I sit on the bed, placing my hand on her shoulder.

  Turning over she looks at me, and my heart stops beating at the sight of her. How can I do this to my child? "Breyson's mom just called and things don't look well. They didn't find any survivors. They were told to start planning his memorial service. I'm sorry."

  She looks at me and her face is soaked with tears. Her lips begin quivering before she covers her face and screams over and over at the highest pitch her lungs can make. "No! He's not dead. I refuse to believe he's dead. He's going to come back to me. You'll see."

  "Kinzleigh, honey, he's not coming back. I'm sorry. I know it's hard, but you need to heal and you can't do that until you accept it and grieve." I'm trying so hard to be strong for her, but this is breaking my heart.

  To make it worse, she begins screaming in agony; tossing and turning in the bed. She is kicking like a child throwing a tantrum. I do the only thing I know how and that's to try and hug her. "Just get out! I want to be alone. Leave me alone!"

  My eyes blur watching her, but I don't know what else to do other than give her some time alone just as she asked. I walk at a fast pace to the door and shut it behind me. Placing my back against the door, I slide down until I'm sitting on the floor listening to her scream and curse and cry. Placing my hands over my face, I cry silently as I witness my child die a little at the hands of love. She doesn't deserve this. Sometimes life can be cruel to the people that deserve the world.

  Chapter 3

  Kinzleigh

  I'm exhausted. I don't even want to get out of bed, but today is Breyson's memorial service. I stand from the bed and look at my small figure in the mirror. I've lost weight from the constant pregnancy sickness and not being able to eat from the depression. I have done nothing but lay in the bed in his oversized tee shirt. My hair is dirty and I haven't showered since I got home from the hospital.

  A knock sounds at my door and opens before I can respond. One look at me, and Adalynn allows a tear to fall down her face. I haven't spoken with her or anyone else for that matter. "Why didn't you tell me?" One sentence and I know exactly what she's referring to. "Don't shut me out, Kinzleigh. I can help you get through all of this, but only if you let me in."

  I feel numb. Everything she says goes in one ear and out the other; nothing sticks. My energy has completely left me. I don't even have the energy to shower, which is why I haven't. I feel like someone walked by, reached inside and removed my soul from the confinements of my body, leaving nothing but a shell. Tears have become an expectation on a regular basis. I don't even try to wipe them away anymore.

  I just stare at her blankly, no expressions to give. She walks over to me and wraps me in her arms. Her outfit goes with the way I feel; black and dark, the symbolic color for death. "When did you find out?"

  I don't want to think about the baby right now. I like pretending it's not there. "After we dropped Breyson off at the airport." I can't even say it without crying all over again. I still can't believe this has become my life. How am I supposed to go back to school or cheerleading? I'll never be happy again.

  She tightens her hold around me. "I'll never tell anyone until you're ready. You know I'll help you right? You don't have to go through this alone, any of it. You're my best friend and you're family to me." I know she expects the Kinzleigh she knows and loves to come back at some point, but that girl is long gone, a vapor in the wind. All I can do is recluse inside myself and try to hold on to what little bit of sanity I have left. "Come on and I'll help you get ready. You need a bath."

  As embarrassing as it was to have someone help you bathe, I can't seem to find the will to care. I guess times like these are when you discover who your true friends are. I pull on my long black maxi dress and a pair of sunglasses to hide my reddened eyes. I imagine to an outsider I look like I'm on drugs. Since I've been taking my nausea medication I don't get sick as often, but I can't seem to eat either. I'm getting thinner as the days go on and my clothes are getting big, but I can't eat. I'm doing good to get down one bowl of soup a day and that's only for the baby's sake.

  We pull up at the cemetery and walk over to the headstone beside Beau's that is now waiting with his name etched on it. An open casket service wasn't necessary since there is no body. I come to stand in front of the headstone and read the letters etched into the stone.

  Breyson Patrick Abercrombie

  October 2, 1995-February 3,2014

  Forever remembered by the ones you love

  The preacher starts his speech; one that he has said a million times I'm sure. It seems too practiced and frankly, not good enough. I just stare at the headstone in front of me picturing my beautiful boy. I close my eyes and allow myself to go to my happy place while the words and sadness flow around me. Come back to me, Breyson. Let me feel you. If not in body then in spirit. I need you to keep me going. I don't have the strength to do it myself. The salty tears run down my face, underneath my shades.

  I'm here baby. I'm trying to get to you. Please don't give up on me. I need you to remember our love. I need you to keep going. Wait for me.... My eyes shoot open and I feel like I'm going to pass out. I must be having a mental breakdown, because I swear on everything I feel like there is someone near me and I have never been one of those people that believe in ghosts. I'm a realist, but I promise on my life I heard Breyson's beautiful voice in my head. The mind is a cruel thing. It has the ability to play tricks on us and make us hear and see things that aren't there. My subconscious wants him to be here so my mind has got to be trying to ease the pain that consumes me by giving me a little bit of false hope.

  As crazy as it is, I can't help but to imagine maybe it were some kind of sign. What if it is? Could it be? I've heard crazy stories before about two souls that were meant to be, having the ability to call out to one another when they're apart; kind of like twins separated at birth, but can feel each others pain and emotions subconsciously. What if it's real and I give up on him? What if me believing he's still alive actually keeps him alive? Can I dig deep down inside and find the will to still hope that it could actually happen? It's a long stretch and may make me crazier than I already am. The question I have to ask myself, is would I rather live with the false hope that he could actually survive trying to get back to me, or let him go just to avoid feeling crazy and go on living emotionally slaughtered?

  In one sense, I have to believe that the supernatural is possible to believe in God. When you choose to believe in a higher power, you accept that the things seeming humanly impossible can actually happen if God wills them to. Can his love for me bring him home? Can our baby bring him home? Can Beau bring him home? I know God himself can, but will he? Like an answer to my question, part of a bible verse comes to me, in paraphrase of course. To have faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains...

  I stand here with the war of questions going on in my mind as the memorial service comes and goes. Everyone begins walking back to their cars, but I continue to stand here, staring straight ahead. "You ready to go, Sweetie," mom says.

  "I'll be there in a few minutes, okay?" She nods and leaves me to myself. I push my shades up on top of my head as the cars leave the cemetery behind. Most of those people will never set foot on this place again until they have to be here for the sole purpose of paying their respects; however, for people like me and Macie this becomes like a second home. I remove the plastic protected piece of paper from the pocket of my white denim jacket and walk closer to the headstone. White is not a standard color to be worn at a funeral, but I had to wear it since my black cotton dress is strapless and it's the middle of February.

  Kneeling on my knees, I open the small Ziploc bag and re
move one of the sonogram photos I was given when I found out I was pregnant. I look down at it, remembering that last day with him. "Hey, Brey. I didn't want to tell you this way, but you've left me no other option." Uncontrollable tears spill from my eyes as I try to gather my thoughts. "I'm pregnant. I wanted to wait until you got back to tell you, so you could enjoy your trip, but I guess you never got there. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get pregnant. I was going to take full responsibility and give up cheerleading so you could keep your football dream, but I guess that's no longer an option. You would've been a great football player and an even better dad. I know you would've stood by me and that's why I was going to give it all up. I won't leave you here by yourself. I'll come back every day and visit. I hope you know how much I love you." Sliding the ultrasound photo back into the plastic bag, I seal it shut.

  I begin digging my nails in the grass that grows in front of the headstone, making a hole. I can't see in front of me, because my eyes are blurred from not wiping my eyes. I don't see the point, because they continue to fall. I don't even know where the tears are coming from anymore. "I want you to have this picture, Brey. It's our baby." I place the clear plastic bag containing the photo inside the hole before covering it back up. "Why'd you break your promise, Brey? I was counting on you to keep it. You were right about one thing; you've ruined me. I love you more than I love myself, more than anything in this world. I don't know why, but I'll try to wait for you. Please don't make me wait long. I'm begging you, Brey. I'll beg all you want, but please don't leave me here alone."