Today was one mind trip. This morning when I woke I had planned on this day being my last day. And now, I am entered into a twisted deal with a stranger. But what a handsome stranger he is. I shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like these when Harlan is waiting for me. I know where I need to go. I slip my chucks on and grab my umbrella just in case the rain picks back up.
I make the three-block walk to the town cemetery. Harlan is buried here somewhere, I haven’t been here before—to his grave, but I need to talk to him. I don’t trust myself at the falls.
I walk through the rows of the dead and wilted flowers. I am slightly thankful that I’m not here, well not yet, anyways. His grave is easy to spot, it is the one adorned in fresh flowers. There is a picture of him in his football jersey etched on the headstone. I trace my fingers over the letters of his name.
Harlan Jones Rivers, born July 19, 1991, died August 12, 2012 — Loving Son & Brother. I lay my head down on his grassy knoll, as my tears start to fall. Seeing his grave really makes the fact that he is gone and never coming back real.
“Damn you, Harlan. Why did you have to listen to me? I just need to you to tell me it's okay. I’m sorry. I really want to be with you—I do. But something has happened. I met a boy, well, more like a man. For the first time since you left, he made me feel…alive.” I squeeze my fingers against my temple willing him to answer me.
“What do I do Harlan? I miss you, and I wanted so badly for us to be reunited, but now I made a deal with this guy. His name is Cutter, and he wants me to make a list of everything I want to do before I die. He said if I complete my list in a year’s time that then he would let me do what I set out to do today. Talk to me Harlan!” I pound my fist against the ground. Mud splatters up my arm and onto my cheek.
Why won’t he answer me?
He calls to me all the time.
Always giving me signs that he’s with me. That he wants us to be together.
“Did you give up on me, Harlan? Are you angry with me? I saw you watching me with him. Why were you there, what do you want from me?”
I feel a firm hand on my back. “I had a feeling you’d be here. Your Gram called me and said you canceled dinner on her yesterday, she is worried about you. I know this day is hard for you. How long have you been off your medication?”
Of course, Gram called Dr. Peters. I sigh and get up from the dirt and grass. I brush the grass from my dampened knees, but it is of no use.
“I take it daily,” I lie to him through gritted teeth.
“Bella, you don’t fool me. How long have you been hearing Harlan speaking to you?” When I don’t answer he continues speaking. “I don’t want to take you in, I know classes start soon. I want to see you succeed, but you must take your medication. Bella,” he stresses my name. “It isn’t negotiable. Have you been having the hallucinations again?”
There isn’t much point in lying to him. He will just keep pressing and pushing me until he hears what he wants fly from my lips—the truth.
“Alright. You caught me. I have been off my meds for two months, and I feel fine.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “I’m not crazy, Doc. I just miss him. Is it so wrong that I want to hear his voice, so much that it hurts? There is an ache in my chest for him. It is like a tumor growing stronger and wider. It spreads through my veins like poison. Is that descriptive enough for you? There—do I feel enough for you, go write that down in your notebook for your file on me.”
I jab him in the chest with my finger. “Do you know how much it hurts—to ache so deep that the darkness consumes you and fills you with a black poison. A poison that has embedded itself so far into my heart that I have to bleed it out, to make it stop. Some days I want to pray to God to make the pain stop, to take me from this Hell on earth that is my life. But I gave up on him answering my prayers long ago. Besides, I deserve to ache, to suffer, to wallow in my misery.” The tears begin to blur my vision. I am emotionally exhausted and on the brink of collapsing.
“That’s the most honest you have been since you started coming to see me. I think you are making progress, but I want you to promise me that you will go home and take your medication. Do not make me regret not taking you in. As your care provider it is my responsibility to look after you.”
“I get it, Doc, don’t worry. I promise. I will take my meds.”
“You better. This is your one get out of jail free card,” he states firm.
“Okay.” I nod. My skin is crawling, and I just need to get out of here.
I decide to go see my Gram, after talking with my doctor, my guilt has kicked in. I don’t want her worrying herself about me and losing sleep. I take the long way there and enjoy the fresh air.
I look at my Gram. I mean really look at her for the first time in what seems like years. She was nearly sixty years old when she took custody of me, but her hair was darker then. Now, she wears her hair a blue/silver shade. Her face carries more wrinkles. She calls them wisdom lines. She looks tired, and I feel like I have worn her down. I mean, I know that she is old, but I feel like I am to blame for her extra wisdom lines.
She appears so relieved to see me. I know I shouldn’t cause her to worry so much, but I can’t help it. It is hard to care about the feelings of others when you don’t care about much of anything.
*—*
I awaken to a loud pounding on my apartment door the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes and let out a yawn. I steal a glance at the clock, noticing it is nearly noon. This is another reason I hate the medication I am supposed to be on, it fucks with me and makes me sleep like the dead. And it happens to make me feel like shit on dry toast.
“Alright. I’m coming, hold your horses,” I yell to whomever is about to get it for beating my door down.
I unlock the deadbolt and swing the door open to find Cutter waiting on the other side.
“Hi, my name is Cutter. I recently moved into the building and wanted to introduce myself. I live a few doors down from you.”
I can’t help but laugh at the serious look he has on his handsome face.
“You are lucky you just made me giggle, you were about to get a dose of my inner bitch unleashed.” I have to admit I am both surprised he came back and happy to see him.
“Sounds…kinky.” He smirks shoving his way past me with coffee in his hands.
“Come on in, please be my guest.” I kick the door shut. “Well, you do get bonus points for the coffee. This is a beautiful start to our friendship.”
“Ah, so we have graduated to friends, next comes intimate buddies.”
“Lame, really—intimate buddies. You really pulled out the big guns for that one,” I tease.
He chuckles and blows over his coffee before taking a drink. “Get ready. We have to get started on your list.”
“The list. Rrr-ight. I haven’t written it yet.” I bat my lashes innocently at him and have a drink of my coffee. “This is delicious. What’s in it?” I have never had a coffee this good before, it must be laced with his vampire like lust oozing pheromones. I had better not drink it, but it is too good to stop. I am not addicted to his coffee after three sips, I am not an addict, and I can stop anytime I want. Okay, who am I kidding? This is some good shit.
“It’s pumpkin spice, with a hint of vanilla and my special ingredient. It’s my special brew.” He gives me a cat that swallowed the goldfish grin.
Special ingredient my ass. I knew it. He laced it with something, so he can get me addicted to some kind of drug, so he can get me to do whatever he wishes, so I can get my fix once he has me hooked. My own personal crack—coffee dealer.
“Awe, is this your way of saying you think I am special.”
Cutter chokes on his coffee, and sputters out, “Lick the windows special.”
“I am wounded.” I clutch my chest in a dramatic fashion.
I excuse myself to the bathroom. Bracing my hands on the white Formica sink, I exhale and hold a deep breath. Flirting with Cutter is too easy. Why do I feel like I have always known him? A lump forms in my throat. taking my medication from the cabinet I get two pills out. I toss them down my throat and cup water in my hand to wash them down with. I scrub my face. I feel like hell. Like I am hungover. It will take some time to adjust to the medication again.
I brush my teeth then run a brush through my hair. Next, I secure my hair with a headband and spray some hair spray over my head for extra hold. I apply my favorite banana scented lip-gloss. Letting out a whoosh of air I prepare myself to write out my bucket list.
I laugh to myself and picture Cutter and me checking off my list like it is a school science project, and he is my ultra-sexy lab partner. Finishing with deodorant, I change into my cutoffs and my black and white striped tank top.
I peek down the hall at Cutter and he is sitting patiently on my sofa. He looks nice today, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and holey jeans with the knees ripped out. The top of his hair is long enough to be slightly spiked in a messy just rolled out of bed, but damn sexy way, like he spent the night rocking someone’s world. Looking down at his feet a smile spreads across my face, he is wearing riding boots.
“You have a bike?” I ask curiously, as I take a bite from my banana nut bread, if I don’t eat something, my medication will destroy my stomach.
“Oh, yeah.” he runs his fingers through his hair nonchalantly. “Why do you ask?”
“Your boots, I want you to take me for a ride. Can I drive it?”
He gives me an all-knowing sly grin. “Your wish is my command but be careful what you wish for. My one desire is to make your dreams come true. Except for driving, at least not today. I like my bike and well, I have seen you on your bicycle, and well to be honest, your sense of direction scares me.”
“Wow, does that make all the girls panties drop?” I notice he is taking in my appearance and appreciating what he sees. It gives me a little more bounce in my step. He makes me feel like a woman, a desired woman.
“No, usually the bike does all of the work for me.” He continues to sip his coffee oblivious to the effect he has on me. He has a smile that stuns you.
“Oh, confident, are you?” I tease him. Back to flirting.
“Yep, I had my Wheaties this morning.” He flashes his smile at me once more. Too sexy.
“You are quite the smart ass, but I like it. It becomes you,” I flirt more.
“I am quite gifted in many areas, and if you behave I might show you all of my gifts one day.” He winks and puts his sunglasses on. I take it he is ready to roll. I grab my white cat-eye shades and follow him to the elevator after locking my door.