Part 22
A slight, cold breeze off of the sea ruffled my fur as I sat quietly in the leaves at the small cemetery, knees pulled up to my chest. It smelled like another storm would be rolling in tonight. Summer had ended quite abruptly at the end of August with two weeks of off-and-on rain, so this was just more of the same.
I sneezed, the motion making my chest hurt from being hunched over. I sniffed, impatiently wiping the tears off of my cheeks, then settled again, just looking at the pale headstone a few feet away.
.
Until the day breaks and
the shadows flee away
Jake Altera
.
God dammit, I wanted him back. Just for a day, an evening, one fucking second - just to hold him again, breathe his scent, and tell him what he meant to me. I'd do anything to be able to trade places that day. Please...
I bared my teeth in pain. Why? Why did that fucking drunk have to be driving there, on that day, that street? Why couldn't it have been somewhere else, where he'd have gotten himself killed instead?
Why couldn't it have just been ten minutes earlier, so he could have hit me?
A choked sob forced its way out of me, and I jerked my leg, kicking at the bundle of cornflowers and calla lilies still lying there from yesterday. Then I stiffly levered myself onto my knees to carefully put them back in front of the headstone. "I'm sorry," I whispered miserably. Another sneeze shook me, then another. Ignoring my sore muscles, I slowly sat down again, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering.
Some time later, a little bird - a sparrow? I didn't even know - lighted on the headstone. It cocked its head at me for a moment, hopping around a little, then dropped down to the ground and started pecking at the base of the stone.
Fury.
"Get away!" I yelled at it hoarsely, waving my arms and trying to lurch forward. I fell over instead, and the bird flew away. I sobbed into the grass, not even bothering to push myself up again. I wished for enough weakness to be unable to. Jake, I'm sorry...
Eventually I did, hating myself for it. Remorse welled up. The bird didn't do anything wrong. It was probably just looking for something to eat. Fumbling awkwardly, I dragged my backpack over and rummaged through it until I found a half-eaten granola bar from lunch. Breaking it into pieces, I set half of them by the headstone with trembling paws and moved back, holding on to the rest.
Fine drops of rain started to fall as my thoughts rolled on. Was this the way I'd felt all the time, before? This bleak desolation, stretching around me in every direction for farther than I could see? And for one brief moment - a day, a week, but far too short - it had been taken away, filled with beauty and color. Then dashed once more. And what was the point, except to show me how empty my existence had been, how empty it would always be, forever.
And it had stripped away the armor, the shields of uncaring that I'd erected to protect myself from this. They were gone, though I found myself desperately wanting them back - wanting to be someone I hated, someone I'd always hated, just to make it stop hurting. That time had turned me mortal, and nothing mortal could survive this.
Suddenly the bird came back - or another just like it - making me twitch. It eyed me again, and I willed myself to be still. It's okay. Don't be afraid. It hopped around for a few seconds until it found the granola, and started rapidly pecking at it.
Moving as slowly as I could, I started to stretch my arm out, resting my paw palm up on the grass with the rest of the granola. The bird looked up at me, and I froze, still a couple feet away. It's all right. Please don't go -
It flew away.
Heartbreak.
It shouldn't have hurt like that. It wasn't rational, because I hadn't really cared about the bird - hell, I hadn't even known it existed an hour ago. But it did. Oh, God, it did. Agony spilled down my cheeks and I bent over around the aching hole in my chest. The rain slowly intensified into a steady stream of cold water, oblivious and uncaring.
It masked the sounds of a vehicle, and the footfalls walking up the path towards me. Only when the rain suddenly stopped striking my fur did I look up to see Dan holding an umbrella over me.
The wolf squatted down in the wet grass, still holding the umbrella and gently rubbing my back with the other paw. "Hey, kiddo," he murmured. I didn't answer.
He waited a few moments, then stood up. "We'd better get going." He helped me up, and steadied me until my legs started working again.
Once I'd gotten into the van, Dan reached over to the dashboard and unfolded a towel on the dash I hadn't even noticed. I balked when he started to dry my fur, hitting my head on the window. " 'M fi-" I started, but had to stop to cough. "I'm fine," I mumbled once I'd caught my breath.
He handed me the towel. "At least so you don't get the seat too wet, okay?" he said. I knew it was a lie, but he obviously wasn't going to let me out of it, so I slowly took the towel. He waited quietly as I dried off, staring at his paws. At last he spoke. "Jake wouldn't want you to throw your whole life away now that he's gone." I cringed back and whined softly, and he looked up. "It's okay to miss him -" a small, bitter smile flicked over his lips "- just don't give up completely." He waited a moment, but I didn't say anything and he reached out to grip my shoulder for a second. "Just think about it, Nick."
He started to turn the van on, then stopped and reached behind the seat to open a lunch box and pull out a small thermos. "It's just hot water," he murmured, giving it to me. "Try to finish it before we get home." Then he turned the key and started driving.
I hated it. I hated that they all kept trying to make me eat, make me drink, make me sleep. It wasn't any of their business. What the hell had I ever done to deserve it, anyway? I was just wasting their time. I shouldn't even be here, I should be dead...
He kept nagging until I gave in and drank it, though.
.
- - -
.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Aislyn was setting plates on the table when Dan and I arrived, while Michael sat at the bar with a workbook and paper. Any light or laughter that might once have been present was now nothing but a bitter memory. Halo was working late, again.
It helped that Aislyn couldn't cook like her mother; the slightly burned chicken and too-salty potatoes evoked fewer memories. Fewer, but not none; and the last time we'd had this dish flashed again and again through my thoughts: how I'd hurt him, how he'd made me talk to him anyway, how - and I knew it wasn't healthy, knew I shouldn't dwell on it, knew how weak I was being, but I couldn't stop, I -
The front door clicked open, making my hears twitch. A couple moments later, Halo walked into the dining room, pausing only briefly as she came into view. I knew why she paused, even though she'd been trying not to - trying to avoid seeing the empty chair next to mine. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from looking over.
Aislyn pushed us into some semblance of conversation, asking about our days. I did my best to answer normally - we all did, I think - but it still fell flat. Yet even so, it was something to fill the yawning silence, and some part of me was intensely grateful to her for it.
But then she accidentally asked where I'd been after school let out, and I ducked my head without answering. At that, Halo looked up from her barely-touched meal.
"I thought we’d asked you not to visit him anymore," she said. When I didn’t look up, her voice sharpened. "You can’t keep doing this. You need to just come home after school, okay?"
"I can’t," I whispered, finally looking up to meet Halo’s eyes pleadingly. Why couldn’t she see?
The deer bared her teeth in frustration. "Nick, you’re not doing your homework, your grades are terrible, you look terrible -" her voice was rising steadily "- and you need to just stop!"
"Honey -" Dan started, laying a paw on Halo’s arm, but she shook it off.
"Just stop!" she repeated, barely less than a shout.
"I can’t!" I yelled back, my thoughts a roaring vortex with no line between pain and rage. At the end of the table, Michael began to cry.
"You’re not the only one who misses him!" Halo shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rose and leaned forward, hands on the table. "We’re all trying to move on!"
"Then you didn’t love him like I did!" I screamed at her. Knocking my chair back as I surged to my feet, agony swimming in my vision, I bolted from the house.
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- - -
.
It was hours later when I crept back in, my fur wet from the continuing drizzle outside. The house was dark - anyone sane would have been sleeping - but the light in the entry had been left on low; enough to see by. I started for the stairs, but had to stop and lean against the wall for a long time, until I stopped shivering and my vision stopped wavering. All I could see was other days, when he would follow me up. It wasn't until afterward that I even noticed the fresh towel folded over the bannister. I snarled, but my traitor paws grabbed it and rubbed the worst of the water out.
Aislyn's door was open, and soft light spilled out into the hallway. I stopped in the shadows before it, not sure I could manage any more interaction. In the end, though, I knew she wouldn't make me stop if I walked past instead, and that made the decision perversely easier; I hesitantly stepped into her room.
The dark-furred wolf looked up from the reading chair near the bed when I came in, giving an infinitesimal nod of welcome. I sat down on her bed, near the head so that our knees were a pawspan apart. For a while, neither of us said anything, and the air between us snarled silently as echos of pain battled the hollow solace that was all either of us could offer. Eventually I let out a soft breath, then slowly crumpled forward, teeth bared and trembling even though I had no tears left. Aislyn leaned over to lay her paw on my shoulder, ignoring my flinch.
We stayed that way for a while - I don't know how long - until I drew in a ragged breath and sat a little straighter. Aislyn took the cue to remover her paw.
"I talked Mum down," she said quietly, her voice almost steady despite the wet tracks on her cheeks. "You'll need to as well at some point. Not now."
I nodded, even though I didn't understand how I could - not when I was the cause of it all. It made no sense - why couldn't she hate me, and how could I possibly convince Halo not to? Why should I? "I can't do this," I whispered.
Aislyn waited a crucial moment before answering - long enough to show she was actually thinking about it. She always did. "Yes, you can," she said quietly, looking right at me with those weird dark blue eyes. I flinched again. "Nick, you'll pull through this." She paused to bite her lip, then went on. "He - Jake saw something in you that made him believe in you. So I know you can do this."
My breath came in shuddering gasps and the room faded out before images of his face looking into mine, only inches away; of the way he always seemed to be going out on a limb for me, when anyone else would have - when everyone else had - passed on by. Please, I miss you...
Eventually it faded, and I could see again, though my eyes were left scratchy and dry from wanting to cry so badly. I met Aislyn's eyes briefly, and she seemed to understand. She just touched my knee for a second and didn't stop me, anyway, when I climbed to my feet and wobblingly made my way to my - to his - bedroom.
She's wrong. She's - he was wrong, he shouldn't have believed in me, if he just wouldn't have been there - I'm not worth - I KILLED HIM!!
Sobbing, I slumped on the floor beside his bed, chest on the mattress and clutching desperately to a frail thread of hope as the long hours of the night wore away.
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- - -
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The bell rang, and I stared at the blank sheet of paper where I was supposed to have taken notes. Around me the other students blurred past, packing their bags and talking raucously as they left. Eventually I made myself get up as well.
There was a vending machine in the commons on the way to my locker. I stopped, stomach growling, and stared at it. My lips twisted in a hopeless, hateful snarl while my paws fumbled out a crumpled bill and pushed the button for some kind of pastry.
I didn't want it. Half my lunch had gone into the trash. But my paws ripped open the bag and my muzzle took a large bite. Sickening. Like some banal little worm, still grubbing through the dirt even though the world had ended.
The crowd thinned as I wearily loaded my books into my locker. A corner of my mind hoped I wasn't forgetting some assignment I'd need them for, but the rest of me simply didn't care. It's not like it mattered. Professor Roderick caught my eye at the entrance, but I shook my head slightly and dropped my gaze. It had been nearly a week since I'd last found myself in his office - or occasionally his living room. Sometimes it was a detention, sometimes just a talk. It was never fun. Very rarely, it helped a little - for a while.
Outside, a passing group fell in beside them. I didn't really recognize any of them. "Well, if it isn't the crybaby himself," one of them said sweetly. After a moment, I looked at him, wondering who he was. Then I wondered why his smile faltered and his voice suddenly became more hesitant and less kind. "What's the matter, did he decide he wasn't a queer after all?"
I wish he had, I thought to myself, I kept walking, and they didn't follow.
Once upon a time, I would have been furious, Before that, perhaps I wouldn't, but I would still have attacked him. Certainly Id gotten into worse fights for less, and even for nothing at all. But now it just... didn't matter. Nothing he said could change what had happened. In many ways it just couldn't get to me at all. I guess for dogs like me it takes a catastrophe to figure out what everybody else already knows.
I stepped onto the road, and a car squealed to a stop in my wake, driver shouting obscenities. Crying out in surprise, I jerked spasmodically, cringing back, and fell over. The world spun. I quickly pulled myself up and staggered to the shoulder, half-running and nearly blind from my abruptly streaming eyes.
Why couldn't you have stopped for him?
.
Ivan was waiting a little down the street. That small, almost-rational part of my mind wondered what had happened to make him give a damn about me. Regardless, he started walking with me, and for the next half mile that was all.
"You all right?" he asked at length - gruffly, as though he wasn't used to asking.
No. Nothing is all right. "I guess," I replied, trying to get my tone up to neutral. He nodded, and we walked on.
"Claire been writing you?"
I half-shrugged, tears pushing just a little closer behind my eyes. More memories I wished I didn't have.
"And?" he pressed. I half shrugged again and stared at the grass passing slowly under my feet, willing time to go faster so I could get away.
Suddenly the lion grabbed my arm and spun me to face him, fingers digging in painfully hard. I tried to jerk away in sudden anger, but then gasped as he squeezed. My brain snapped into focus for just a moment. "You've got to get it together," Ivan said forcefully, golden eyes boring into mine while the sea breeze ruffled his mane. "People are waiting on you." He stayed there for a moment longer, fingers creating bruises, before awkwardly letting go and looking down. He hesitated, then clapped my shoulder briefly - much gentler than his earlier grip - and turned away, walking quickly back the way we'd come.
I stood rooted, watching him go. Then I looked down as well and slowly continued on my way.
When I got there, I trudged upstairs and laid down on his bed, not caring enough to do anything else. As the afternoon blurred past, I slipped into my dreams and my nightmares.
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- - -
.
I sat back in relief when Aislyn's phone beeped quietly to mark the end of the hour. Somehow, even though I knew that she wouldn't stop me if I said to hell with homework and got up early, I never did. It usually didn't accomplish anything, but I stayed. I don't know why. It's not like she ever did anything - usually just did her own work. She never even brought a book.
This time she got up first, and leaned over to touch the plastic of the backyard table next to my textbook. "Can you stay here a little longer?" she asked. When I eventually nodded, she started back toward the house. "I'll just be a moment."
For a moment I leaned back and just lost myself in the play of the sun and the chilly October breeze through the fur on my neck and cheeks. No real thought; just trying to remember what it had felt like, before. I'd never paid attention, it seemed.
I wasn't really ready when Halo stepped out of the house and came to sit across from me. My brain flashed through surprise, pain, and apprehension before settling on anger - at Aislyn, not Halo. We hadn't really spoken since that night, and now she'd tricked me into...
But the anger faded as well, leaving only discomfort and a growing bubble of remorse. The matted streaks on her face told that she'd been crying too. So I nodded when she asked if she could sit - asked, like I deserved the decision. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, and somewhere between the first word and the second I went from wanting to get away to meaning it with every fragment of my heart.
Halo nodded. "I am as well," she replied, her voice twisting in and out of the wind. "If being there is what you need, I shouldn't have tried to stop you."
I made an uncomfortable motion halfway between a shrug and a nod; then we were quiet for a while. The breeze grew stronger, overpowering the sun's attempts to keep it warm and bringing with it the scent of more rain to come.
Eventually Halo looked up, prompting me to as well. "It doesn't get easier, does it?" Her lips twisted, and she bit the lower one.
I shook my head with a muted whimper, and the deer's expression made a tiny shift, to something I didn't quite recognize. Standing, the deer walked around the table and gently pulled me to my feet. I resisted briefly when she further pulled me into a hug, but soon crumbled. Weak. So instead of pushing her away I clutched desperately at the back of her shirt and shook as we both tried to get through it.
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- - -
.
I strode furiously though the dying grass between rows of headstones toward his grave, still snarling from the mandatory visit with the social worker. How dare he. How dare that twisted, sanctimonious prig tell me to - who does he think he is?! As if he knew the least bit about it! -
The scent of the office had been oversweet, as if trying to calm visitors with a sledgehammer. I'd been pacing back and forth in the tiny space, caged, while the ample cat behind the incongruously industrial desk had tried once again to get me to sit. Somewhere along the line he'd decided we were on first-name terms, and that he needed to counsel me.
And his idea of doing that had been to tell me I needed to "let Jake go".
The hell I will - would ever - ! Let him go?! Let go of the single thing I'd ever had worth having?
Never. Not for as long as I lived, and after.
I'd been left with the choice to either run or attack, and even now, a mile or more away, I still thought I'd chosen wrong. I hated him - hated the cat I'd never met before, and hated everyone else - every single one who'd dared try to get me over it. I hate him, I hate them, I hate them all, I hate you -
My body spasmed, and I tripped. Cold tears splashed onto the ground as I gasped on the abruptly airless wind. No. No no no no no no no...
I coughed, drawing in a breath at last to whine, high and sharp. No, Jake, I'm sorry. I didn't -
But I could still feel it snarling in my blood. How could you leave me? How dare you leave me? I hate - NO!
Another moment of clarity, and I saw it; saw the poisonous anger as just another thin shield over grief, but one that would lash out at anything, even the ones I wanted so badly not to hurt.
Then the clarity ended, and my whimpers continued as it all swamped me once more. Please, I can't do this, I need you back, need your help, please...
But he wasn't there, and I spent a long time there in the brown grass, kneeling before the dead.
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- - -
.
Nick,
I heard about what happened. I am so, so sorry. Are you holding up okay? I know nothing I can say will really help, but I wish it could. I am here for you, if you want to talk about it or if there's anything I can do. Please let me know.
I know you probably don't care right now, but I'm settling in all right. The school is a bit easier, and I doubt anyone is to happy to have me squatting here, but I don't blame them. At least the country's beautiful: no mountains, but low hills and lots of little ponds.
Again, I am here if you want me. Please be safe.
Claire
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Nick,
Are you doing all right? You... it's just been a while since my last. I completely understand if you don't want to talk to me about it; please don't feel pressured to dive into it if you don't want to. But maybe talking will help? If not about that, then something. No matter what, I just hope that you are all right.
My aunt and uncle seem really nice. They live in this big old house at the edge of town, so at least there's room for me. And there's always space to go out walking by myself, which is nice, and different from where I was. Their two horses make me nervous, though.
But I'm just wasting paper; you certainly don't need to respond to any of that. I just wanted to see how you're doing. It must seem strange for me to be sending a letter, but I don't want to call you unless you say you're up for it, and I don't know if you have an email. I'm still new to that anyway; I didn't have a computer before.
Please get back to me, even if only a note. I'll be thinking of you.
Claire
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Nick,
I don't know if these are even reaching you, but here goes. I'm really worried about you. I know I said I didn't want to call you last time, but I tried that just to see if I had the wrong address, and you didn't answer.
I know it doesn't help right now, but everyone says it does get better. God, I know you probably don't want to hear that, especially from me; I know I have no right to even presume I know what you're feeling. It sounds so trite, but it's all I have. I'm sorry. Just, no matter what you can't give up, please.
Look, I'm going to stick my foot in it here, okay? I know you and Jake had a rocky relationship, but I think he was happy for it anyway. He definitely wouldn't have invited me to his graduation party otherwise, and just seeing him there - especially when he was with you - he looked so happy. I can't believe that he was regretting any of it. So don't you regret it either. You made each other happy; remember that.
I miss talking with you. Please take care.
Goodbye,
Claire
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Claire,
Sorry for not writing. I just Ivan made me get back to it. Do you I feel like Nothing seems to ... I don't know what to say. Do I just dive in? I don't want to talk about it, but it seems like it's all I can think about. And everything reminds me of him. Everything, Claire, he's gone. I always It's like I'm al still just waiting for home to come back. Even though I know he's not, I swear I. and I can't do it. I can't just keep waiti expecting wanting it to change, it won't and I'm falling apart like a I can't even write!
I shouldn't send this. I don't want to hurt you even more. I should just say I'm doing better; I'm back to going to school and stuff. But I don't think I could write another one right now, and if I don't . And Please don't call; I'm just not up to it most sometimes.
C Would you be okay to just listen? You don't have to say anything; I just needed to rant, I guess. You don't deserve to have to deal with it, but... I've just cried on everybody else's shoulder too much too, and it never
You're wrong though. He did regret it, and it was my fault. He wanted to say he to talk about it, and he couldn't because he knew I would - I hurt him, Claire! Just like I hurt everybody, and I just I can't there's nothing that can
Sorry
Nick
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Nick,
Oh Nick, I am so sorry. I wish more than anything I could make you hurt less. I don't know how to, but at least know that I'll be here for you as long as you need me.
I'm not the right one to say this, and that you probably don't want to hear it, but it needs to be said. Wanting to say something more is not the same as regretting the time you spent with someone. There are plenty of times I stopped short of what I really wanted to say - I think that's true for everyone, maybe even most of the time - but if I was happy anyway, I don't regret it. Nick, from everything I saw, Jake was happy with you, happy because he was with you. Even if you fought with him, nothing can take that away.
I am sorry. It wasn't my place to tell you that, and I know I said it badly. But please just think about it.
I promise I will always listen to your rants, for as long as you need to make them. Just keep holding on.
Claire
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Claire,
Sorry about last time. I just can't seem to keep it together long enough for anything.
I hope you're more used to the horses now. I don't know anything about horses, but they're supposed to be nice, aren't they? Anyway, having space to walk is nice. Like the mountains here
But if Why'd he have to go? Why couldn't Couldn't he We had all these years - years I needed to make it right, but instead And I keep trying to slip back to what I was before, even when I know that's what hurt him. But whenev But I just can't do it without So And he'll be gone forever, and
Look, I just can't do this today. Hope you're all right. Sorry.
Nick
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- - -
.
It couldn't decide between rain and snow, so it was trying to do both. The result was heavy, sleety stuff that washed out what little color the clouds had left behind.
Not that it mattered. It wasn't the street of today that I was really looking at; it was that same street from just a few months ago, when it was warm and pleasant and innocent under the feet of the most wonderful wolf I'd ever met.
The day I lost the man I loved.
I made a ragged sound, part whimper and part sob. It wasn't right. How could he go when I stayed? How could he be torn away, leaving a bleeding hole in the lives of everyone around him? - while the horse who had hit him got off with nothing more than a revoked license and a few years in prison. Oh, God, how I'd wanted to hate that horse - wanted it with a bleak, visceral, burning passion that left scars inside my skin and poison in my thoughts. But it turns out that not even hatred can survive in the emptiness Jake had left behind. So despite the pain, one by one those flames had been snuffed out.
But they left a void even vaster than before. I squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my teeth on another sob, and turned quickly to start walking - anywhere. For once I was dressed for the weather, in a warm fleece sweater with an umbrella in a gloved paw. It was the only way Dan would let me out. So why the hell was everything so cold? The only heat was in memory - in molten shards of shattered glass.
My feet took me aimlessly through the city, their only direction to avoid the places most fraught with pain. My thoughts, though, were still with him - on the way he'd looked, the way he'd smelled and sounded. On the sound of his heartbeat, thudding through every part of his body, just waiting for me to press my ear against him so it could proclaim how strongly he was alive. On the coarse texture of his fur when it was tangled up in mine.
But most of all, on the way everything he'd done, everything he'd said in that maddeningly self-possessed voice, had hinted at the soul underneath. One by one, every scene and every moment and every breath. Everything he'd done for me, and with me, and to me. They're the only glimpses I ever got, but they were like rays of light cascading through the veil of clouds.
I don't know how many steps had faded behind me as the little daylight making its way through the storm faded away, but as I kept walking, I slowly realized that something had changed. For the first time in - well, in a long time - I could see him, one scene at a time. I could remember just his smile, without overlaying what I'd done to break it.
It's such a little thing. Just a choice, made so deep it's barely noticeable at first, to change my perceptions. To see the good as separate from the bad. And maybe it doesn't really matter; it can't change what happened. It might even be just a lie, built up in pain by someone who couldn't fight it any more.
Or, just maybe, not.
I was crying again, and my tail was wet from the moments I'd forgotten to hold it under the umbrella. The sleet was slowly turning into a wet snow as the temperature fell, and the sound of cars was lower as more and more reached their homes. I knew that this wouldn't be the last time I cried, wasn't an end to tears - not now, and probably not ever. The blades of loss somehow cut even deeper once I could truly see the sheer, cataclysmic joy Jake had shown me.
I wondered if he knew he was my hero.
And it felt like such a betrayal to even think of living anyway, of moving on without him. Like every step on would also be a step away - away from the pain and the misery, perhaps, but also from the memories that were all I had left of him. But I guess I knew how he would respond to that - could almost hear his exasperated You're an idiot, mutt. It was a fleeting a thought, midway between memory and fabrication, but it was true. I was never going to forget him. But he... I wouldn't like who I would be if I gave up now. And that little gift - to see in me someone he could love - was one of the most precious things he'd ever given me - even if I'd been a blockhead about accepting it.
I sniffled, eyes still streaming and body still aching for his touch. I still passionately wanted him back, even if only for an instant, if only to show him how grateful I was, how much I loved him. But that something had changed. I let out a long, shuddering breath, watching it mist in front of me. At some point the streetlamps had come on, and I stood in a wavering pool of light that glinted off each of those little ice shards before they were swallowed by the snow.
A few lonely cars still trailed past, but no one else shared the sidewalk with me. It was silly, in a way - all those others who had held me up, put me back together, and yet here I was. For this last moment, I had to be alone.
It was getting late, and I was shivering, sweater or no. Roderick's was closest, so I set off that way.
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- - -
.
It was bright and sunny for a change, though only in bursts between the clouds, and bitterly cold. The light turned the landscape into a rolling blaze of brilliance. The snow covering everything was light and fluffy, a far cry from the nasty stuff we'd been getting. I'd paid for that night with a fever and a week in bed, the gone on to utterly fail the end-of-term exams, but at least it had given time for the weather to change a little. Anywhere else, there would have been children playing, celebrating their Christmas morning with a nice snowball fight.
But not here. Brilliant or no, it was still a cemetery.
Dan and Halo rose from their knees in front of the headstone, both moving like the moments there had cost them years. Michael released his tight grip on my paw only to hug Halo instead, and even with his face buried in her coat I could hear his keening sobs.
Aislyn stayed longer, her fists clenched in the snow and her shoulders shaking, but making no sound. Only after another long moment did she sniff and straighten her shoulders once more. She adjusted the fresh bouquet in front of her, then stood. When she turned towards us her face was calm, but she gave me a sad, watery smile as she passed.
"Nick?" Dan asked, his face and voice alike haggard.
"I - I'll be a while," I murmured back, lips trembling. The wolf nodded, and after a last look they turned to wait back inside.
There is no graceful way to approach a grave. In the back of my mind, always, was the knowledge that beneath that patch of earth, covered in snow and flowers, lay the tattered remains that had once held a life. I did the best I could, padding up alongside it and brushing clear a spot beside the headstone to sit on. I hugged my knees to my chest, then relaxed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"Hey, Jake," I said softly. "I... I don't know if you can even hear me, but I need to say it." There. I'd started. So now what? "I - God, I screwed up with you. There's so much more I wish I'd said, a-and not said, and - " I stopped myself. It hurt to do it, and it felt unnatural, but I did. "B-but that's not what I want to say. Because I know there's more to us than our mistakes. So... so thank you, Jake. Thank you for every minute of it."
I was losing the battle to keep from crying, badly, but I forced the words through anyway. "You - Jake, you gave me my life back. You sh-showed me things that - that I never knew existed, or that I thought I'd l-l-lost forever, and - You opened up the world for me, and I'm s-s-so - "
I broke down completely, crying against his grave. The stone was cold, uncaring, but strong. Only after the tears finally abated - for a time - could I continue.
"And thank you for it," I whispered in a trembling voice. I sniffed hard and scrubbed at my eyes, fighting for coherency. "I - I won't let that slip away from me again, Jake. I promise."
"I wish more than anything I could have you back, Jake" I whispered, screwing up my courage for what I had to say next, " but even if I n-never see you again, I... I'm still glad for every minute you were there. Jake, always At least I h-had you for a little while, and th-thank you so, so much for loving me back..."
I almost lost it again after that, squeezing my eyes shut and rocking back and forth in the snow. And yet, I didn't. Something held me up. Against all the endless sorrow I could finally lay a single wolf's love.
For the first time since that day, I managed a small smile.
And, now, I had a promise to keep. I couldn't just give up. Sometimes, you don't get second chances. Sometimes, you need to get it right the first time, commit to it, and not just blame the words, or the times, or the mood, or being in love. Because sometimes, sorry after isn't good enough.
So I slowly pulled myself onto shaky feet and faced the world. "I love you, Jake," I whispered. Now eyes open, ears up, back straight.
My name is Nick Altera. This is my story. Taking a deep breath, I set off to live it.
.
.
End
.
But then I don't know how to start. Okay so, I don't know if I can be happy with this ending, but I mean I guess that's kind of the point? I mean I'm so so so happy for Nick at the end of this, for finally getting after all his horribleness and implied past horrible a chance at a real happy life, but like, at what cost you know? Like that is way too much of a cost to have to pay, cause now no matter how happy he's going to be it'll always be drenched with that horrible aching pain in the background. Like why did it have to cost that? Why did YOU have to make it cost that? D,:>
And I guess I'm biased because I loved this story so so much, like not even an exaggeration it used to be probably one of my favorite stories anywhere I had read in my whole life. Like when I was sad or just so lonely I could read this story and feel all those feelings and it'd get better, but now I lost that because I just can't even re-read anything about it without it hurting. Like, well your a writer so probably a reader so I'm sure you understand, when a character dies it can sometimes feel like someone you actually knew died. And with this, like since Nick was the main protagonist he's who you follow and like relate to, so when Jake was there he kind of filled the part of the person you love, and then when that happened it was like, I actually felt like that person for me had that happen to them, which was horrible. Like it sounds like an exaggeration but I literally felt like someone close to me had died. (I'm the kind of person who has tears up at like everything, even like ONE single sad sentence can make my eyes want to sting, no joke.) So like yeah, basically this story became too painful to even go back and read the older less sad chapters, because I knew what was coming, so like the whole series died for me in that sense.
Some of the things I've thought while waiting for this chapter to come out were like, I think it might be bad story telling if you ruin your story seemingly just for the sake of making it sad, should I tell him? Maybe it would work better for me in a book since it would all happen much faster, which from your perspective it probably seemed to be more similar too, since you probably had more or less this ending in mind from the start. But as a reader this was a two year commitment that like went down the drain so suddenly and for no reason that I could see. And then also just generally hating you for hurting me like this, like at times wishing I had never even found this series cause it hurt me too much. I don't know if you did have a point though still, although if something like this did happen to someone, maybe this would be the most perfect and beautiful story for them because they could take heart from it and work towards healing like Nick finally has. I don't know. Maybe my problem is that I don't think I could ever be that strong if something like that happened to my person, so I have trouble seeing Nick as ever finding his life happy enough to get through. But I really hope he does.
So I guess I'm not really sure how I feel. Oh gosh this was probably such a perfect way to end it, but meaning only in terms of all the horrible decision you made for the plot that you refused to fix. I guess if you were so intent on keeping the tragedy you wrote, this really was the most beautiful way to end it. But there's definitely other ways you could have ended it that would have made me happier. Speaking of which,
******** If you wanted to slip in a short epilogue where you find out Jake being gone was all a dream, absolutely no one would complain or call you on it, we promise <3 ********
Just an idea I had. Maybe other people agree? You could even have Nick remember and keep the lesson he learned if you want. I swear we'd all be cool with it. And anyone who wasn't, screw them anyway.
I don't know if this is a positive or negative comment, but that probably works since the ending is kind of both happy and sad, even if to me the sad sooo far outweighs the happier bits. And make me hate you, in terms of this story, even if as a piece of writing objectively it's amazing, because people don't read objectively unless they're like, stuffy old guys judging the worth of pieces of literature by their content.
That being said though, you're a great writer, and hopefully you'll keep writing stuff, and hopefully not quite as sad. Sorry this is so long, but I had a lot to say and this was the last one to say it in.
I'm probably going to want to say more later, or edit something or whatever. Maybe I'll even start to be more upset with you later, that's what happened after the last one, ya butt. Or maybe not, since their was something a less emotional person might be able to call closure.
Okay I think I'm done.
Hate you forever. <3 But also hope for the possibility of a new story or series to make me love you again. <3
First Post.
Perhaps the next story he tackles will be one with a nice, happy ending.
No flip that, every story should be happiness and sunshine and rainbows. TnT But no no, I know. And for a story where the main love interest dies, this is probably the most beautiful and lovely and wonderful story for that ever. But for me personally, it's just sO SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADD. TnT
Just want to throw out that little epilogue idea again, all a dream, no shame if you do it. TnT
So many of the good and worthwhile things in life DO come with an enormous cost. Not always for everyone - that's what makes it even less bearable - but for a lot of people, happiness is paid for in blood; and for even more, the blood is paid for nothing. It's a darker side of reality, but it's one I wanted to show for a while. In addition, way too much of the time people just don't get a do-over, and they have to take life as it is and live with the consequences of what they did, and I wanted to show that too, at least as best I could. I didn't want to soften that blow and take the meaning away from it, even if it sucks to read.
I don't know if this is a story anyone could really 'take heart from', or even enjoy for the good parts. At the end of the day, though, I didn't write it for that.
You might be stronger than you believe. I find it amazing how strong people can be, even - or especially - in circumstances you wouldn't think anyone could be strong for, and wish would never happen.
I am sorry, but I won't be writing an epilogue to this. This is the real ending.
Well, I guess we'll see whether I keep writing, and whether it's any happier. I kind of hope so, to both. It would be nice to know I can write a happy ending too. I don't know that even then you'd be able to call it a happy story, though :/.
Positive or negative, thank you for taking the time to write it out, and for the vote. I appreciate it either way.
I guess, to me, you could say, All wasn't Fair. (the bad jokes help the pain TnT)
I mean, maybe they could take heart, like, from Nick's example of being able to focus on the happy times, and that that person saw something amazing in you, and so you should do all you can to live up to that. Something like that. The ending really was just beautiful and amazing, in terms of what it was.
Fine, no epilouge....until I start a petition and get enough signatures that the president has to respond to it, and then he'll read it and be sad, and then write a law that will force you to write a dream epilogue!
You better keep writing, you jerkface. I continue to be a big and loyal fan, don't let this be the last thing I have to remember you by. TnT I don't mind more sad stories, just maybe not so brutal without more of a heads-up?
Love and hate you forever. <3 TnT
This one, however, calls me to write it now, after just finishing it. I've been following this story for years - YEARS! At some times, events in this story have buoyed for days, at others they have left me shaking with anger. Now, at the end, I am left with a sense of emotional quiet that tells me, "Job well done." I may not have always *liked* what was happening in this story, but I always appreciated the craft which you displayed in writing it. Regardless of whether the occurrences inside this story were pretty or not, you always told them unflinchingly and honestly.
Some of my favorite, most lingering stories are those which don't necessarily end happily. All of them, however, reach some sort of resolution at the end which reconciles the grief and pain in a way that does not leave me feeling cheated. All's Fair did that in a way that left me feeling not happy, but satisfied. For that, and for all the work you've gone through to make this happen, I applaud you. You have written a fine story, one which deserves notice, and I hope to one day have the opportunity to purchase it in print.
Thank you, Xi. Thank you very much.
I really appreciate your thoughts. I know a lot of this story hasn't been pleasant, and that it didn't turn out the way most of us (me included) were hoping for. However, what I've tried for was to make it something people could read, and relate to, and be taken on the ride for all of the ups and downs alike. Thank you for saying it worked, at least for one person. And thank you for sticking with it even through the low spots when I dropped everyone off a cliff and left you there for months/years.
It's weird, but a lot of the time if I read a good sad story, I only read it once. Yet I'm glad to have done so. I hope that maybe even those who don't ever want to come back at least aren't sorry they came.
I wouldn't hold my breath for that print version, though.
Thank you for your support, for the comment, and for the vote and fave.
Again, amazing job with the story!
well done, emotionally gripping. a true work of art. it's going to take me a long time to process what happened.
thanks for sharing your work with everyone.
I think you're the first to get this far, at least. Thank you for the stars, fave, and comment. I'm glad I was able to hold onto you through the whole ride, and make an impression at the end.
I think the best stories are the ones that get the readers so engaged with the characters that the actually feel them, like they are their friends, or family or even themselves. You manage that with this story (start to finish). You created characters that may very well be real people of flesh and blood… and fur, I guess. At least, I know I connected to the characters.
The story is unusual; which you can tell from the very first paragraph in the very first chapter. It isn’t all rainbows and sunshine’s, but I don’t think any less of it because of that. I feel like it is a powerful story and anybody can learn from it. I particularly like (in this chapter) one thought of Nick:
“Sometimes, you don't get second chances. Sometimes, you need to get it right the first time, commit to it, and not just blame the words, or the times, or the mood, or being in love. Because sometimes, sorry after isn't good enough.”
…And this is just how life is. So let me say that this is an amazing story (even if it does not end with: “and the live happily ever after”), I enjoyed a lot, and it had me crying more than once. Thank you for telling Nick’s story.
I do hope you continue writing. I sure will read any other story if you did.
The main focus of this story was to try to build characters you [i]could[/i] engage with. I wanted the characters to be driving the plot, and for anyone reading it to completely believe that they would behave the way I portrayed - and not just to believe, but to be able to see themselves shining through in those decisions here and there.
I'm glad you pulled out that one thought. Even though I don't think it's the most beautiful or touching statement or phrase here, if the story has a "moral", that's probably it, and I had one heck of a time making sure it made it through in the right place with the right words. Thanks for saying it worked for you. It really is how life is, sometimes. And much as I would have really, really loved to have Nick pull through with that happily ever after, at least he did manage to find some sort of closure, and I for one hope he'll be able to move forward and be happy in the future despite his loss.
No guarantees on any additional writing. As I said, I won't post again unless I've finished something, and I haven't so far. But I'd like to, I think.
Thank you for your thoughts, as well as for the vote and the faves.
As for the phrase, I think is a statement of the strength in Nick. I feel he does not spoke these words with bitter regret, but rather with the resolve to always do his best. To do this in the situation he is deserves nothing but admiration.
Once again, thank you for sharing this story with us. It has forever gain a place in my heart.
I *know* I had commented several times waaaaay back when it first came out, but I can't find them now for some reason.. Eh.
When I first started reading this series, I was little more than a wide-eyed teen, with problems at home and out. Needless to say, I could empathise with Nick in several ways, and couldn't help but be attached to the characters you clearly put so much effort into. 4 years is a long time, especially during such a period in my life, and I guess I could say in some ways I grew up with the story. It made me laugh, cry, and feel all mushy inside at times, and every chapter was like a gift looked forward to and lapped up eagerly. I wish I could say more to give it justice, but..
When that "fateful" chapter came out, I admit I was shocked, and eventually upset and felt a little(maybe "little" is an understatement..) betrayed. How could you do this? It didn't seem to make any sense, it was so sudden and unneeded, and was like, *is* a stab in the heart. It wasn't fair to do this to Nick and the others, and to us, your readers, after all that's been done and said. I'm a little embarrassed now about how much of a funk it sent me into.
It took me a long while to realise, well, maybe that's what you were trying to show, isn't it? Life isn't fair. Life can be sweet and loving one moment, give you reasons to go through hardships, but the next moment, take it all away suddenly, leaving you little more than a hollow husk. There is no reason for some things to happen to us in life. It doesn't have to be fair. It just happens, and goes on whether you want to or not.
A year went by, you posted another chapter, and I'm ashamed(?) that I didn't do more than breeze through it quickly. Feelings about it were still pretty raw, and being in the military, I didn't really have much free time during that period anyway. The only reason it seemed to why I even attempted to read it, was some feeling of "debt" or something to Nick and Jake, to see their story through. Another year passed, I had just left the service and I found myself on a flight to a country half the world away for studies, and lo and behold your final chapter came up.
I admit I didn't read it immediately. Took a fair bit of consideration, and lurking around the comments, and well, here I am now writing this comment. 4 years, and while I was angry at you back then, I'd like to thank you right now. Few stories have ever elicited such emotions from me, and while not always pleasant, it was realistic, in a way many writers don't dare to portray. You stuck to what you intended to do, instead of what others might have wanted, and for that, I applaud you. Like Tank said earlier, its Nick's story, and you told it beautifully. Nick and Jake would be proud.
I'm not happy after the end, but I'm satisfied. Its closure for both us the readers, and for the characters involved, and yes, it is indeed time to move on. Thanks again for giving us the opportunity to share in this, and I hope to see more of your works soon.
I believe you were withholding comments for a while, waiting for the finish, then dropped a big one around part 17.
I really appreciate your support, and I'm glad I was able to provide some enjoyment during the "fun" parts. I know the outcome felt like a betrayal to more people than just you, and I'm sorry. I still wonder if there was some way I could have warned you without ruining the effect, but I don't think so. Even with all the other dark arcs before that, it's really hard to get rid of the hope that it would all work out.
You don't need to feel even slightly bad about being hesitant to read the last couple parts. After part 20, I wouldn't blame anyone who just stopped there and found something happier without ever looking back.
That is kind of what I wanted to illustrate. Things like this do happen, and thousands of people's lives are broken like this every year. It isn't fair, because this world is a long way from perfect. But I also wanted to show - and I hope I was able to - some of the strength that people can find within themselves in the face of that destruction; and to show that the beautiful moments are something to cherish for every second they last. It doesn't make it okay - and it sure as hell doesn't make this a happy story - but I hope I was able to achieve that.
I'm glad the closure worked for you. Thanks again.
*EDIT*
Thinking about it, this story is literally a roller-coaster. As the story continues, the hills get higher and higher. At first, there's happy moments, and then sad moments. Later, so more happier moments, then some sadder moments. Jake kisses Nick on Christmas Eve, sending a happy feeling, later there's a break up, causing a depressive mood once more. After their fight, they make up, though strained, and through a stupid outburst, Claire tries to commit suicide. And finally,the last and largest hill, school is over, they were happy, about to go out to dinner and go camping together, alone, on Jake's birthday...and Jake is killed by a drunk driver, before it can even happen. Wonderful, painfully, happy, stressful emotions and feeling throughout the story. Thank you for writing Nick's story. I, as well as many others, thank you. Whether or not these thanks are genuine or sarcastic, varies person to person, but know that I am grateful to have read such a emotional story. This will be one of the stories that I will remember, and look at as inspiration in my own attempts at writing.
-Marcus "Soulwulf" Ramirez-
I'm in the same boat; having someone like Jake would be wonderful. I wouldn't wish what happened to Jake and to Nick on anyone, though.
A large part of the up-and-down nature of the story was just Nick. A lot of this story was him learning to accept affection and stability others were offering, and until he did he was creating chaos everywhere he went, whether by accident or to avoid his issues and maintain his version of 'normalcy' around himself.
Thank you for all of your comments, and for the vote and fave. I appreciate them, and I'm glad this was able to serve as inspiration for you. Thanks.
You don't need to be apologizing for not analyzing details; it's your comment, and I'm grateful for it. Thanks :).
Thank you again Xi-entaj for sharing your beautiful work
Long ago, when I was in elementary school, I was quite fond of a particular joke called "The Spaghetti Joke." Without wasting time telling it properly, the joke was about a little boy on his first day of school. The teacher has the students go around the room and give their name and their favorite food, and when it was the little boys turn he said that his favorite food was Spaghetti. Instantly the teacher flies into a rage and sends the boy into the hall as punishment, where he sits crying until the janitor comes along and asks him what's wrong. The boy tells him "I have no idea, sir! All I did was tell my teacher that my favorite food is spaghetti!" and the janitor flies into a rage as well. The boy meets with the principle, who has a similar reaction and sends the boy home. His mother grounds him and sends him to his room to await his father, who also flies into a rage and disowns the boy. Each time he has to explain his day the story gets longer ("well... I told my teacher my favorite food is spaghetti, and she sent me to the hall and the janitor sent me to the principal and he sent me home and my mom sent me to my room and my dad .... " etc) and the people he encounters get more and more absurd. A policeman asks him why he's living on the street, and after flying into a rage takes him to the police commissioner, who also in a rage sends him to the District Attorney, who puts him in front of a judge, who sends him to DC to testify before the supreme court, who send him to the president, who has the boy deported. The joke is long, and if you're telling it right you improv it to make it even longer, but the ending is always the same. "Then two years later, now living in Mexico, the boy is playing baseball with his friends and the ball rolls into the street. The boy chases after it and is hit by a car. The moral of this story is: look both ways before you cross the street."
yep. It ends with a non sequitur.
That's what this story feels like. The ending you've written comes out of nowhere and gives the reader absolutely no closure. You haven't resolved anything, your protagonist is still struggling with his mental problems and apparently has made no progress in dealing with them, and many of your other characters don't have any resolve to their stories in the slightest (nothing at all has happened involving Ivan, we don't learn anything about how Claire is holding up emotionally, and you give us barely any details about how Jake's family is dealing with things).
As a result, this story has the same problems that many movies do: it lacks a decent third act. If I examine the story as if it were a movie written in the standard three act format, act 1 is from chapter 1 until the day that he moves in with the Alteras, act 2 goes from that day until the accident, and act three is just this chapter. Do you see how horrible that pacing is? You spend 21 chapters on the first two acts, and a single one on the third. The third act is supposed to wrap everything up, tie all the loose ends, give the reader some closure on the story. You haven't done that, and this final chapter comes across as lazy writing.
And just to be clear: I don't care that the story doesn't have a happy ending. I care that it doesn't have any semblance of a satisfying conclusion.
Plus, lots of awesome things have crap third acts. Like Office Space, and apparently Interstellar (but I haven't seen it yet).
I think I understand what you mean. In many ways I ended the story at the beginning of Nick's 'recovery', not the conclusion - and the same with Claire and Ivan. Nothing is finished, because their problems take a lifetime to get through. Ten years from now Nick would still be struggling with his grief and his behavioral issues, Claire would still have scars from her family, Ivan would still be fighting to rise above his roots.
So what I tried to do instead was to show, not the resolution, but the [i]decision[/i]. I tried to show by the end that Nick has realized how wrong his life was going, and how right it could have been, and decides to make it better. He's learned the lessons and tools he needs, so to speak; well enough even to deal with (if only barely) the really catastrophic outside problem that hits him at the end.
Even so, I understand that the end result might not be satisfying given how much he suffered to get there. Thanks again for the feedback.
Oh an a thanks to Tank Jaeger for conveniently having this on his latest favorites list that I happened to catch sight of after reading exposure. :)