Cuts Run Deep (18 page)

With a lump in my throat and moisture filling my eyes, I finished the last torn out journal entry. After tucking all the missing ones inside Jackson’s journal, I closed it with a loud thump. It sounded like finality. And as I set the journal next to my legs, it was like I lost my brother all over again. For the past two days I could almost pretend he was still here. Reading his words kept him alive for me. But now even the journal was done.

There were no more words to read.

And a part of me wished I’d never read it to begin with. I knew everything now, and it made me wonder why I ever desired to. Were we really supposed to know our loved ones most private thoughts? At this point I didn’t think so. Maybe that’s why he had hid them. Perhaps they weren’t meant to be found. Then again, why not throw them away? Why keep them at all?

My guess was that he didn’t want the police to find the entries, but he wanted someone to. I’d like to think that he hoped I would find them. That he knew I’d need closure and this was his way of giving it to me. But I knew better.

He had hidden them in Piper’s poetry book. And the secrets in the pages were just as much hers as they were his. Even at the end of his life he had been thinking of her.

Before reading the journal, I’d thought of Jackson as brave and strong. As a boy who loved life and loved others. I thought of him as kind and heroic. The boy in those pages wasn’t always like that. Sometimes he was jealous and irrational. Sometimes he was mean and self-indulgent.

Placing my hand over the journal, a sob tore from the back of my throat. Perhaps I was wishing for the wrong things. Instead of wishing I never knew what Jackson thought, I should be wishing that he had told me sooner. Maybe if I had listened to him that night when he tried to talk to me. Maybe if I hadn’t expected him to be the life of the party all the time. If I had encouraged him to be himself around me, would I have been able to stop him?

Looking back, I guess I did see signs that he was hurting. But then he’d turn on his famous charm, and I’d let it go. It was like I needed to believe he was all right. I’d grown to count on Jackson’s happy-go-lucky behavior. It gave me a sense of security, like when Jackson was okay then everything was right in my world.

But that wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t his job to make everything all right with me. He was always shouldering everyone else’s burdens, taking them on as his own. And in the end he cracked under the weight of it. If only someone had lightened the load. Would it have made a difference?

I guess I’d never know.

Wiping my face, I stood. My knees creaked. I’d been sitting so long my legs had fallen asleep. They tingled as I shook them out. Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around the journal and picked it up. Holding it, I traced the scratches on the cover. Bringing it close to my face, I inhaled. It smelled like Jackson, and my heart squeezed.

“Good bye, brother,” I whispered. “I love you.”

With tears blurring my vision, I swallowed hard and spun around. It was time to do the right thing. Jackson may have meant for Piper to find these entries, but she didn’t. I did. And I knew what I had to do. With deliberate movements I walked out of my room and down the hallway. My parents’ bedroom door was closed, so I reached up and rapped on it with my fist.

“Mom?” I called out.

“Yes, honey?” She sniffled.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Exhaling, I turned the knob and pushed open the door. Mom sat on top of her bed, crying into a tattered Kleenex. There were a few more strewn on the bed near her thighs. Clutching the journal to my chest, I stepped toward her.

When I reached her, I held it out. “This was Jackson’s journal. Everything you need to know is in it.”

Her eyes jumped to mine. “Where did you find this?”

“In his room.”

“But the police went through his room.”

“I found it before that,” I admitted.

Betrayal flashed in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve given it to you right away. I didn’t know what was in it and I guess…” I paused, a sob breaking through my words. “I wanted a little more time with him.”

Mom’s face softened and she nodded. Then she reached for the journal. “Thank you.”

Nodding, I released the journal into Mom’s hands. It was hers now. I whirled around and left her room, leaving my brother’s last words behind.

It had been several years since Jackson’s death, and nothing had been the same since. So many lives had been changed, uprooted, tossed around. Tyler and Zach went to jail for what they’d done to both Bentley and Shane. Another girl came forward and admitted that Bentley had raped her too, so my parents finally believed me. I wanted to be angry that it took someone else’s word to get them to listen, but I was grateful for the validation finally. Legal action had been taken against Bentley, and for that I was thankful.

Courtney and I weren’t really speaking, but sometimes I would see her around town and she’d give me a sad smile. I knew she was processing her brother’s death the same way I was. In some ways I felt we were all responsible. I wondered if she felt the same way. Not that I’d ever ask her. I’d respect her privacy. I knew that grief was personal.

It was impossible for me to return to Red Blossom High after Jackson’s death, so I ended up doing my last couple months of high school from home. Jackson’s absence made life practically unbearable for awhile. There were days when I fantasized about joining Jackson. I wondered if maybe
Romeo and Juliet
was more than just our play. Maybe it was our destiny.

But I couldn’t do it. Not after seeing the aftermath of both Shane and Jackson’s suicide. It seemed better in theory. The reality of it sucked. Lives were scarred, ruined. And the damage was final, irreparable. Not quite the peaceful solution I had dreamed it would be.

The past three years I’d spent more time alone than with other people. I’d wallowed in my grief, holed up inside my pain. But eventually I started to come out of it with the help of my parents and my therapist.

I was finally making other friends. Mrs. O’Connor directed me to a theatre group in a neighboring town, and I’d joined it this past summer. A few of the students there lived here in Red Blossom, and we’d started hanging out.

One guy kept asking me out, but I wasn’t ready for that. I figured I would be one day, but I needed more time. More time to mourn, more time to heal, more time to mature. I was finally getting to know myself, to find out who I was without my parents, or Bentley, or Jackson.

Looking back on my relationship with Jackson, I knew it wasn’t as healthy as it should have been. But I didn’t regret my time with him. I couldn’t. He was wonderful and loved me so passionately. Not only that, but I loved him too. And I was grateful for the time we had.

Tonight I drove out to Blossom Mountain. It was my first time here since the night Jackson died. I got out of my car and hiked up to where I’d last seen Jackson. I saw the place where he stood when he took his life. Glancing to my left, I saw the rock that I must have hit my head on. Taking a deep breath, I stared out over the town. I conjured up the feel of Jackson; his scent, his touch, his voice. And for one moment it was like he was here with me.

Lifting my head I looked up at the stars. They winked down at me, twinkling across the sky.

Find me in the stars.

Reaching up, I traced the pattern of them with my fingers, drawing invisible lines in the inky black sky. And I did find him. I found him in every sparkly light, in every nuance and glow. In the light, in the beauty, in the darkness. And I knew he’d always be with me.

In my heart and in the stars.

This was such an emotionally draining book for me to write. There were moments when I literally just sat at the computer and cried. I cried for Jackson, for his parents, for his sister, for Piper. Being the mother of teenage children, the topic of bullying and suicide is a tough one for me. But I believe it is an important one. It’s real, and it happens. However, it shouldn’t. If you are suicidal or depressed, please get help. And if you are being bullied, tell someone – your parents, your teachers, principal, or anyone that will help you. Don’t allow it to continue.

I know how hard it is when you’re not accepted, when you don’t like the person you are. I once felt that way. But as I aged, I learned to love and accept myself. I learned that what others thought about me wasn’t as important as what God thought of me, and what I thought of myself. If you are struggling and need someone to talk to, please email me:
[email protected]
.

Most of my books are about healthy relationships. Relationships I want my readers to aspire to. This is an exception to that. If you are in a relationship like Jackson and Piper’s, you need to get out. Their relationship was co-dependent and unhealthy, and destroyed them both.

However, I do hope that you enjoyed their story and were entertained by it.

As always, there are many people to thank:

First off, my family:

Andrew, thank you for always accepting and loving me. And for showing me what true love is.

Eli and Kayleen, may you always know your worth. May you always feel loved and accepted. And never give up. You’re shining stars, and I love you both more than life.

Cameo and Cambria – thanks for keeping me motivated in our daily check-ins.

Megan – thank you for reading as I wrote. Your encouragement and enthusiasm kept me going.

Alivia – I adore this cover so much! Thank you!

Lisa Richardson – thank you for your stellar editing skills.

Scott Tedmon- thank you for your legal expertise.

Cassie and Tiffany – thank you for always supporting and helping.

There are so many other people I could thank (the rest of my family, the Indie Inked girls, all my author friends, bloggers and fans), but in the interest of ending this letter at some point I won’t list them all. You know who you are, and you know I love you.

Most of all I want to thank God, who makes all of this possible. All I do is for you.

Without this awesome support system none of my books would see the light of day. So thank you!!

Amber

Amber Garza is the author of the
Delaney’s Gift Series
, the
Prowl Trilogy
, suspense novel
Engraved
, and many contemporary romance titles, including
Star Struck
and
Tripping Me Up
. She has had a passion for the written word since she was a child making books out of notebook paper and staples. Her hobbies include reading and singing. Tea and wine are her drinks of choice (not necessarily in that order). She writes while blaring music, and talks about her characters like they’re real people. She currently lives in California with her amazing husband, and two hilarious children who provide her with enough material to keep her writing for years.