Beneath Our Faults (2 page)

My chest heaved in and out, my breathing growing shallower. Dawson and I stood face-to-face, having a stare down, neither one of us making a move or spewing out words in our defense. He was the first to give up at the exact moment his eyes began to glaze over. Shaking his head, he threw up his hands in defeat and shuffled backwards away from me. "Wow," was the only thing that came out of his mouth, but it was enough to let me know I stepped over the line and his patience with me had been extinguished. He whipped around, opening up the creaky door and slamming it shut behind him.

Regret crashed through me and I belatedly took in what had just happened. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the carpeted floor. My body tensed up at the feeling of a warm body beside me, wrapping me in their arms. I shook my head in embarrassment and she pulled me into her arms tighter while we both attempted to let our hurt out together.

I cried for the person I lost. I cried for his family and my best friend beside me who lost her twin brother. I cried for the other families who lost a child, a brother or a friend in the shooting. I was certain my tear ducts were close to falling out from excessive flooding.

"I miss him, too," the girl I had been inseparable from my entire life whispered gently into my ear. “We will get through this together."

A soft knock came from the other side of the door and before I had a chance to tell the person to go away, the door crept open. My mom appeared in the doorway and shut it behind her. The first thing I noticed was how her red, puffy face fell when she took in the scene before her. Her knuckles flinched, clutching the tissues that were balled up in her hand as she let out a light whimper.

Tessa was the first to get up, reaching her hand out for me to grab. Running my hands down the length of my dress, I tried to get rid of the wrinkles, but it didn't help. The dress was ruined, but I didn’t care. It had a scheduled meeting with my fireplace as soon as I got home.

The sound of my mom clearing her throat broke the uncomfortable silence. "Sweetie," she said, gently, looking straight at me. "They are getting ready to start the service." My eyes immediately dropped to my shaking hands studying the chipped pink nail polish on my fingernails. I gave her a slow nod. Nodding and shaking my head had become my regular form of communication since that day. I had practically become a mute with the exception of the bitchy outburst I just gave Dawson.

"Okay," I mumbled, drawing the word out. "Can you two just give me a minute alone, please?"

"Of course," my mom answered, squeezing out a fake smile. "But you only have a few minutes." Turning around, she left the room and Tessa followed her, stopping briefly to squeeze my hand before closing the door.

With the room empty, I stumbled back towards the couch, sinking into the hard cushions. My fingers were still shaking as I fished out the now slightly damp, folded paper in the pocket of my jacket. I swallowed the nausea creeping its way up my throat and carefully unfolded the note.

Tanner,

This is the best way I knew to tell you goodbye. I hope that's okay with you. I remember you always loved the letters and notes I would write you during our free periods. I even decorated the corners with the tiny hearts like I did in middle school. I wanted you to be the only person who heard my goodbye; not all those people sitting in the room next to me. This is our goodbye - just for the two of us.

I have spent all of today missing you and I know that's how I'll spend tomorrow and the next and the next. I don't know how I am going to get through everything without you by my side. I've never had to do anything without you and I'm terrified. I'm scared, god, I'm so scared. All of our plans, our dreams, have been ripped into shreds and thrown into a blazing fire.

I can't stop thinking about all of those talks we used to have laying face down and holding each other's hands. Our huge wedding in your parent's backyard before our honeymoon in Tahiti and our future kids we were suppose to have. You know that would have been a handful, but you would have been an amazing father. And husband. We would have had a great life together.

Everyone keeps telling me I am going to have to move on with my life but I have no idea how to even start. I remember when I first told you I love you and you said, "there’s no taking it back." I never actually thought about how much those words meant to me until this very moment. I will never take it back. You will also have my heart.

I'm sorry. I am so sorry and if I could take it back I would. I cannot wait until I see your smiling face and we meet again.

I love you,

Daisy

The words grew blurry as I dragged my finger across the paper, and quickly folded it back in its square before securing it back in my pocket. The heels of my shoes sunk into the carpet as I lifted myself up and tried to mentally prepare myself for what was about to happen.

I was seventeen years old and I was going to say goodbye to the love of my life. I had been shattered to pieces and I knew the shards would never fit back in the same mold. But that wasn't the worst part, no. I might not have pulled the trigger but I could have stopped the bullet from hitting him.

5 Months Later

T
HE VOICE
blared through the speakers above my head and woke me up from my sleepy haze. My mouth opened wide, yawning, and I wiped the dried up slobber from the side of my face. Reaching my arm behind my back, I struggled to massage the heavy tension spreading from my neck down to my back. The pill I had taken earlier to help me relax was starting to wear off, forcing my anxiety to resurface.

God, I loathed flying.

Admittedly, it was only my second time flying, but it was the first time doing it alone. Last time, I had Tanner by my side, holding my hand and distracting me from my crazy, paranoid thoughts. Let's just say I've watched
Final Destination
one too many times. Quick fact: I absolutely, with every fiber in my tiresome body, hated heights. Memories rushed through my mind of the time Tanner had somehow convinced me into going to Lake Monroe with him and his friends to go cliff diving. The name alone sounded painful. I remembered how proud I was of myself when I made it to the top of the cliff. It was a different story, however, when it was time to do the actual jumping part. I did the wrong thing. I did what everyone tells you not to do. I looked down. My feet locked up, instantly changing their mind about sending my body tumbling down a cliff. Tanner ended up having to carry me back down.

My eyes squeezed shut. Why were my memories of him so bittersweet? I wanted to bear hug them but strangle those bitches at the same time. They gave me instant gratification but broke me down in the end.

Needing to get my mind on something else, I fetched my backpack under the seat and pulled out of my iPod. Music had seemed to be my coping mechanism lately. My foot tapped gently against the floorboard and I unwrapped my headphones, sticking one in each ear. Just as my finger was ready to tap the play button, a stern voice stopped me.

"Excuse me, miss." I looked up to see an older flight attendant giving me a generic smile. "All electronic devices need to be shut off at this time," she instructed, in a robotic voice. I nodded in response and drug the headphones back out of my ears. So much for that idea.

They had completely shut down the entire high school as a crime scene the day after the shooting, giving us summer break to mourn then transferring us into neighboring schools across the county. At my new school, everyone knew what had happened to me. The hushed whispers and pitying stares that followed me down the hallway drove me senseless. But they were nowhere near the humiliation of breaking down in full panic attack mode during class in front of everyone. Multiple times. One second I would be calculating an algebra problem and the next, I would turn into a sobbing mess cradled into a ball on my chair. After the fifth attack, the whispers turned into insults. Freak, weirdo, crazy; I heard it all.

Somehow, I managed to survive two long, excruciating weeks before I refused to go back. In actuality, I refused to do almost anything. I wasn't eating regularly and had suddenly become a recluse on autopilot.

Every single person in my life got cut out while I spent my days hidden in my bedroom. Phone calls and texts went ignored, even Tessa’s. I tried to keep my promise of being a strong shoulder for her to lean on but I couldn't stand to be around her. She was a constant reminder of what I lost and anytime she was around, the knife that had been lodged into my heart would twist an inch deeper.

And my poor parents, they tried everything. They sent me to the local therapist in town who attempted to get me to "open up and allow myself to heal." I wasn't ready to do either of those things. What Tanner and I had together was something special that belonged to just the two of us. If I told other people, it would be like handing over another piece of him and those pieces had already started dwindling down day by day. I didn't want to be the person dragging my family down the road of depression with me but I wasn't sure how to hit the brakes and heal.

Four nights ago, my dad called me down to the living room. A trace of nervousness followed me down each stair. I saw my mother first and tears were pouring down her porcelain face. Her hands were latched into my dad’s, whose face was blank.

Uh oh. Not good.

My dad motioned to the chair across from them and I took that as my cue to sit down. His throat cleared and he leaned forward, planting his elbows on his kneecaps. "Your mother and I have been talking," he said, in a voice he only used when he was dressed in his sheriff suit, letting me know that he was serious. "We think it might be a good idea for you to get away from here for awhile." Whoa. My head shot up and I felt like someone had just sucker punched me in the gut.

My mouth stayed shut, waiting for him to elaborate before I started screaming out my refusal. "We have also talked to your therapist and she agrees with us," he added, like that was supposed to make me feel better. A disgusting taste of bile slithered its way up my throat and I quickly swallowed it back down.. Tears started flowing as their intentions sunk in.

"I can't just leave here!" I shouted. "Tanner is here!" Blinking, I tried to stop the imminent tears but failed. My parents grew blurry through my vision and I watched the hazy silhouette of my mom rising from the couch and taking the few steps towards me.

"Daisy," she rasped out, kneeling down on her knees and grabbing my hand. "Please listen to me. You have got to move on. I'm not telling you to quit grieving or forget about him because no one will ever forget about Tanner. We all loved him." I let out a low whimper at the sound of his name, sinking deeper into my chair. "He will always be in our thoughts," she continued. "In our hearts. But you have got to close that chapter and start turning the pages." The pleading in her voice was going to break me. "Do it for yourself. Do it for Tanner.
Live
for Tanner."

"It's been five months!" I screamed, letting out a sharp breath. "Both of you act like I am some eighty year old cat lady whose been pining over her first love for decades!" My fingers clenched into my palms and I could feel the skin breaking. "Give me some fucking time to grieve!"

My mom quickly went back to my dad’s side. Panic filled my veins waiting for what was coming next. "We talked to your Aunt Jamie and she has agreed to let you come stay with her and your Uncle Tommy to finish out the remainder of the school year."

"You're trying to send me to Georgia?" I spat out, my heart racing. My Aunt Jamie was my father’s younger sister. While my dad decided to stay in Indiana and become the town sheriff, my aunt studied interior design and moved to Atlanta. I brought myself to my feet abruptly, crossing my arms across my chest. "You might as well forget it because I'm not leaving."

The loud bang of my dad slamming his fist down on the coffee table caused me to jump. "I will not have my daughter wasting away in her room day after day over some boy who is never coming back! Over something that is never going to change!" He stood up and his voice got louder. "He is gone! You need to come to terms with that and get your ass back on track."

"And what if I refuse to go?"

"Then you better get your butt ready to go back to school tomorrow.”

"When do I leave?"

And that is how I ended up on a plane to Atlanta. I blew out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the plane landing. Standing up too quickly, I whacked my head on the ceiling. "Jesus," I cried out, wincing.