Clouds That Were (Weathered Hearts) (12 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Tenley

T
he walk home
from the park seems shorter than normal. Now that I know what I am going to do, it feels as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel free now that I no longer need to worry about my future; I only need to worry about my ending.

Now, I just need to figure out the how, when, and where. I have given this some thought in the past, enough to have done a bit of research, and there are a few options that I have ruled out.

I can’t shoot myself, because I don’t have access to a gun. Also, unless I do it exactly right, I risk just being left damaged. Too risky.

The idea of slitting my wrists seems doable, but again, unless I do it deep enough in the right direction and long enough, I could just lose a lot of blood, and then everyone would assume that I had done it incorrectly, intentionally, as a cry for help. I am not interested in having people look at me with any more pity in their eyes than they already do. So strike that idea.

I could hang myself. I read somewhere that that is a very quick way to die. However, I also read that it makes your eyes pop out of your head or something equally disgusting. No. No popped-out eyes. Gross.

This leaves me with pills. Not messy and seems like it would be a peaceful death, doesn’t leave a big mess or anything. And since my mom has dealt with back problems for the last five years, she should have enough pills in her bathroom to get it done.

I am walking into the driveway as I come to my conclusion regarding how to do it and decide to think about the rest later. I never even think to look over to see if Chase is home. It occurs to me that I am going to be in trouble when I walk in the door for just taking off like that and embarrassing her, but I don’t really care.

To my surprise, Rick is still there when I walk in the door. My mother is lying on the couch with her feet in his lap, and he is rubbing her feet. I find this humorous, for some reason. I don’t know how pregnant she is, but since she doesn’t look pregnant in the least, I doubt that her feet hurt from the added weight at this point. Of course, I have never been pregnant, so who am I to judge? Still, I find way too much humor in this picture before me.

“Tenley, what are you doing here? I thought you would be gone for the night?” my mother says as though she normally wouldn’t freak out about my leaving the house.

I want to punch her in the face. I want to expose her for being absolutely fricking ridiculous in the way that she is currently treating me like a human being, when she normally treats me like I am less than a death row inmate. But I say nothing. I just smile and nod and walk up to my room like the good little girl that I am expected to be.

I resist the urge to look over at Chase’s house when I get to my room, but I do check my phone. There is a text from him simply asking where I am. However, it was sent hours ago, and I have no idea what to say. So I don’t respond. Tucking it back under my mattress, I get my pajamas on and lie in bed. My brain is going a mile a minute, so I can’t sleep.

Now that I know how this story is going to end, I can’t decide what I want it to be like for my mother. It’s her fault that I am doing this. It’s her fault that I feel like I have no other choice. However, Chase is a part of my life now, and I want to make sure he knows that he had nothing to do with my decision. I want him to know that this decision was somewhere inside of me way before he came along. And although he claims to love me, he doesn’t know exactly what that means or how messed up I really am. Although I do believe that he believes what he feels for me right now is love, I also know that in the real world, when he would be forced to deal with all of the issues I have, he would no longer love me the way he thinks he does now. He may, in fact, love me, but it would always be in spite of my issues. And I don’t want to be loved in spite of anything. I want someone to love me because of who I am, and again, since I know this will never happen, I am assured that my choice is the right choice. With all of these thoughts roaming through my head, I don’t feel bad; I don’t feel guilty. I feel… I don’t know, happy. I know that this decision to kill myself is what is best for everyone. I have no question about this. I know. For a fact. That every person I have had contact with in this life will be better off without me in it. I want so badly to do it right now, to save everyone from my presence immediately, but I know I can’t do that.

I need to plan this. I have the “how” figured out, but I still need to figure out the “where” and the “when.” I feel like the “where” and the “when” really need to be thought out. I don’t want just anyone to find me, and I don’t want it to just be some random time of the day. I want the “where” and the “when” to have meaning. I want my mother to be able to look at both and know exactly why I did what I did, when and where I did it.

When I wake up in the morning, I feel alone. Getting ready is a chore, and I am dreading having to face Chase. In my heart I am afraid that this will hurt him, that he will somehow feel responsible. But my head reminds me that everything he has said and done is somehow not real, and that just like everyone else, he will fail me. It’s just a matter of time.

He pulls in the driveway today, knowing that my mother has already left for work; and when I get in the truck, he seems unbelievably happy. So happy in fact that he doesn’t even notice the giant cloud that seems to be following me around today. He just does his thing, stops at Starbucks, and carries on, as though I am not even there. Whatever it is that has him in such a good mood is untouched by my bad mood.

I get to school. There are people all around me, yet I feel so alone, that no one sees me. Not even Chase. He is with me every second he can be, yet it is as though he doesn’t even realize I am there.

No one knows the pain I am feeling.

No one knows I would rather be dead.

No one knows I feel invisible.

No one knows my whole life is a mistake.

No one knows that no one cares.

No one knows that no one else knows, either. Everyone assumes that someone else must know me. Someone else must know what is going on with me. Someone else must know why I have no friends. Someone else must know why I never go out. Someone else must know why I am always alone… always… alone.

In the end, no one cares. It affects no one. It affects me. No one else.

And everyone else is okay with that, because it doesn’t affect them.

I know that if I were dead tomorrow, no one, not one person, would care.

My life has never been worth anything since the day it started, but my death will have meaning.

How do you make a life that was worth nothing to anyone mean everything in death?

I have no idea, but I am determined to figure it out.

And I will figure it out.

I will make my life that was worth nothing to anyone mean everything to everyone. Okay, well maybe not everyone, but at least one person. I will make my life that while I was living meant nothing to anyone, in death, mean everything to her.

That. Is. My. Goal.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Chase

N
ow to decide
when to tell Tenley my plan. I have a little over a week before I turn eighteen, but now I don’t even know if I have to wait that long if my dad has everything arranged already.

I want to give her enough time to process the idea before we actually leave, but I know that somewhere in her head she still thinks I can’t save her. I don’t want her to overthink it and do something crazy. She was really off all day today, but I am so excited about my plan that I had to just pretend I didn’t notice. I knew that if she told me anything else, I would take her right now, and I can’t do that. Not yet.

My phone dings with a text, and it is Tenley just saying “hi.” I ask her how things are going over there, and she responds with “same as usual.” Apologizing for being so out of touch this morning, I explain that I have a big surprise for her and ask her when we can get together again.

We decide on Friday, and she asks if we can go to the airport again. That seems like the perfect time to tell her. My birthday is on Tuesday, so I can tell her, have a few more days, and leave the next weekend if I can wait that long.

I have spent so much time thinking about this and planning, that it hasn’t occurred to me until just now that maybe she won’t want to go with me. I know how I feel about her after only these few days, but what if she isn’t as sure? I guess if I were her, I would take any chance I could get to get away, but that’s just me.

She says she loves me. I have no reason not to believe that, so I really do think she will be just as happy about this plan as I am.

I picture our future together and can’t help but smile. I can picture her dancing around in the kitchen, attempting to cook for me; and I can also picture her failing and sitting together, laughing on the floor while we wait for the smoke to clear. I picture us sitting outside by the ocean together, her reading, me drawing. I picture her lying with her head in my lap and my playing with her hair while she tries to stay awake. In all of these daydreams, she is happy. That is the whole point, for her to be happy and not to have any worries. To just be herself and to know that she is loved and cherished. And even if something happens, and she is sad, I want her to know that that’s okay. That she can cry, laugh, dance, sing, whistle, sit, stand, or lie down; whatever she wants is fine by me. Everyone should be able to live that way, but especially her.

If I continue to sit here and picture our future together, I am never going to make it to Friday without telling her. I walk upstairs to my room, and my eyes are drawn to her window as they are every time I come in here. I see her sitting in her window, and I smile knowing that these are her last days of sitting that far away from me. I grab my phone and text her.

Chase:
I love it when you sit in the window like that. You look so beautiful.

Tenley:
thanks

Chase:
What are you doing? It looks like you are writing something?

Tenley:
Yup, writing.

Chase:
Are you ok? You seem weird?

Tenley:
I’m fine.

Chase:
Are you sure?

Tenley:
I am. I am headed to bed soon. It’s been a long few days. My mom isn’t home, so I don’t have to get her permission.

Chase:
Must be a nice change for you. Do you want to come over?

Tenley:
I probably shouldn’t.

Chase:
Do you want me to come over there? I would like to see you.

Tenley:
Nope, better not do that either. Like I said, going to bed soon.

Chase:
Ok, well let me know if you change your mind?

Tenley:
Goodnight.

Chase:
‘Night.

A few minutes later, I see her close the curtain. She gives me a little goodnight wave as she does it, and then her light is off. I still can’t stand the thought of her having to deal with any of this on her own. I hate that I was so distracted today that I didn’t even bother to ask her what was up. I really need to be better about that. I know enough to know she isn’t about to volunteer information about what’s going on over there. She still thinks that no one will believe her and that no one cares. It is my job to make sure she knows that not only do I mean it when I say I love her, but I want to know what she is thinking and that I believe what she tells me.

Setting my phone aside, I try to focus on homework; but after a half hour of doodling her eyes in the corners of all of it, I decide it’s useless, and I, too, go to bed.

Sleep comes quickly, and soon I am dreaming about her. Only a few more days. Then she will be sleeping next to me, and she will never have to worry about anything again.

At about one AM, my dad is in my room shaking me awake. “CHASE! CHASE WAKE UP!”

“Dad? What, what is going on?”

“You must have been having a bad dream. You were screaming something about Mom and Tenley. Do you remember the dream?”

“Yeah, Mom and Tenley were walking away from me, and neither of them would look at me. I was yelling for them, but they just kept walking. It was so weird: it was like mom was taking Tenley somewhere. I know they could hear me, but they wouldn’t turn around.”

“Well, it was just a dream. Everything is fine. Okay?”

“I know it was just a dream; it was just so real. I am just going to text Tenley to make sure she is alright. It was so real.”

When I get up to get my phone, I notice that her light is on, a circumstance that is weird because I saw her turn it off before. I text her, but I get no response. Call it a gut feeling or a hunch or whatever, but something is not right and I need to go over there.

“Chase, I’m sure she’s fine. Just go back to bed,” my dad says with concern.

“Dad, something is wrong, and I am going.”

“Ugh, okay, well, if you are going, I am coming with you.”