Cody VI

My mother wakes me when her slipper hits me right on my cheek. “Mira, hijo mio muy pendejo!” She yells. She never yells, especially in Spanish. “Emily is back in town y no la has invitado para comer?”

I groan as I get up and sit against my bedframe. “We’re not really friends anymore.”

“Amigos o no, ella es familia, mijo! What are you doing having a little fight over nothing!? Make up with her! I miss her!” Mom sighs and takes a look around. “Como te vas a casar con ella if you leave todo tu mugrero on the floor? Estoy arta cleaning up after you.”

I feel a bit bad watching my mom clean up my dirty clothes from the floor. It’s not that I don’t do it myself I just haven’t gotten around to it lately. It’s been hard finding the will to do so. “Nobody asks you to, besides no one comes in here anymore.”

“More the reason. What would Emily say?”

“She’s messier than me, have you been to her room?”

“I don’t care. Invite her over and say you’re sorry.”

She doesn’t bother closing the door beside her when she leaves.

-

There's only one text on my phone when I check it:

"Are you okay if Emily's there?"

It's from Grace. She's asking if I'm still coming to her birthday party tomorrow.

I toss my phone onto my countertop and slam my head against the bedframe. Fuck.

It's all I’ve been thinking about lately. I keep playing scenarios in my head on what I’m going to say to Emily. I daydream how she’ll act and say. I get it into my head that she’ll be welcoming me back with open arms, saying she missed me. That we can stay just as friends instead. That isn’t reality. We're in an awkward situation. That's where we left it and that's where it's been.

What’s real were the last words that she said to me when she left. She wanted to hurt me. That was her whole intention. Emily wanted to find a life where I wasn’t involved. She wanted to feel how life was without my poison slowly draining her life away. Emily wants me to hate her.

I could never do that.

I've been looking for answers on what to do. I'm not blind to the signs the universe has given me. Imergy and metaphors are my expertise. But I'm stubborn and I'm not sure if I want to see it that way. I at least know where I went wrong. That's a start. I can find what I want to do from here. It's what my latest lines are filling the final pages of my journal. They have been short and I'm not sure if I'm ever going to expand on them.

I write whatever comes to mind,

Do I deserve happiness or am I destined to be alone?

I've known from the moment I was born

I'm a corpse walking, waiting for rust to brittle my bones

It's sadness that has grown to feel like right as home

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I hate it.

-

It's almost been a year.

Exactly 365 days ago, I began dating Elizabeth.

Two months and a half later, Elizabeth died.

June 4th.

Today I go back to where it all ended.

I haven't been since.

The abandoned house in the old part of town looks even more run-down in the daylight. There's still trash floating around outside from that night. The inside is clean, wiped clean. But I'm not here for the house. I go through the backyard and follow the footsteps into the woods that changed everything. There's no path and not easy to go through. I'm not sure if I'm even going the right way. I'm using the little I remember back from when I chased her down. I was the first one to do so, but others were not far behind. What I do remember is the gunshot and the following scream after. I remember what it looked it.

There was vomit on Grace's shirt. There were splashes of blood on her face. She might as well have been a corpse for how white and rigid she was.

Elizabeth was below. A gun gripped on her hand. She looked like she was asleep.

She died with a smile.

-

I thought I was going to be alone when I came here.

"Oh," The woman turns when I get close. She's been staring at the little memorial left.

It's like looking at the future. Elizabeth's mother looks just like her. This past year hasn't been easy on her. The bags under her eyes droop down. Strains of white hairs have slowly been overtaking. Last I heard, she moved away. What is she doing here?

"Cody. Hi," She greets me, making space to stand next to her.

"Cecilia. I'll just go."

"No, it's okay. Come here."

I haven't spoken to her since. It wasn't much of a conversation and more of her just screaming at me. I didn't expect her to let me join her.

"I had a feeling that I needed to come today," Cecilla sighs as I stand next to her. "I guess you did too."

I look down at the memorial. It's a small little cross with her name on it staked into the dirt. There's a veil around it and a photo of Elizabeth in the center. It's been run down by the weather and it doesn't look pretty.

"How have you been holding up?" I ask. I didn't want to. It just came out.

Cecilia nods a few times. "As best as I can," she forces a laugh. "At least I'm not angry anymore."

"I'm sorry."

"I tried to blame anyone I could for what happened. I tried to move past what happened. I tried to use my grief and turn it into doing something positive. I tried to accept it. I tried to move on. Nothing has worked. I don't think anything will."

I don't know what to say. I came here to self-reflect, not this.

"We didn't get along. She hated my guts. She hated her step-father even more. I didn't hear an I love you since she was a little girl. So when she called me the night before she died, I didn't expect to hear that, but she did. I love you. That's were the last words she said to me. And now she won't say it ever again. I can still hear it as clearly as then. It helps me sleep."

"I...I don't-"

"You don't have to say anything, Cody. It's okay."

"But-"

"Do you think she has forgiven me? Do you think she has forgiven you? Is that what you want? Or is that what you need? That's why we're both here. To find out," Elizabeth's mom squats down and rips the cross off the ground. "I know she has. I feel it in my heart and it hasn't made it any better. I've been looking for the wrong thing. It's me who has to forgive myself. And so should you."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Neither do I. That's why we distract ourselves. We gorge ourselves on it. Anything and everything just to not think about it," she snaps the cross and lets the bottom piece fall. She rips the photo off and raises it above. "We tell ourselves that we'll be better people. We'll try a little harder. But we're just lying to ourselves because it's the mask that keeps us from letting go of the past. It stops us from looking at the future."

The sun's light is going around the photo. Elizabeth's school picture is in shadow. Cecilia lowers it and holds it in her palm. Elizabeth is smiling.

"We are desperately holding on to something that's already gone."

"How do I let go?"

Her hand closes and it crumbles the photo. She squeezes it until her fist trembles and opens her hand when it does. The photo falls to the ground.

Cecilia doesn't answer my question and tosses the other half of the cross into the bushes. We stand in silence as she looks down at the ground, and I at the sky.

Have I ever tried to forgive myself? Did I even think it was possible? Did I want to? Or did I think I didn't deserve to? I don't even remember.

Maybe I was just chasing excuses.

Maybe I didn't want to hold myself accountable.

Maybe I was fighting against the repercussions thinking it'd change them.

"I forgive you, Cody," Cecillia breaks the long silence. "And I think it's time I forgive myself." She turns towards me and smiles. It's the same. I miss her smile. "I think I just did."

"How?"

"You just let go, anyway you can."

"And what if I can't?"

"Then it's only because you're scared."

"How do I find out?"

"You let go."

-

I find myself back in the ruins of my childhood. It's gone. It won't come back. It's not here anymore.

I walk forward and deeper into the forest. I walk until it becomes unrecognizable and become lost. I walk until I find something new. There's a tree more gigantic than the rest. It hasn't grown right, part of the trunk is bending to the side and the rest rises high up in the sky. It's as if the tree is made from two. On one side, the branches are thick and close to the ground. Up above they're plentiful and and compact.

I've been mulling over what to do and how to do it. I've been stuck thinking it's what I want. I've been thinking it's something still in my hand.

I think I know what I need.

I decide I will build something new.

I'll build something that's just mine.