Connected

February 27th, 2010

I spent the last eight hours with Caleb planning it. He had it all figured out. He paid someone off to take the fall for killing me. They would eventually be released on a technicality. He even managed to acquire a bag of blood that matched my type so that when I’m shot it looks like I’m bleeding. He wanted all the evidence back. Fuck that, why would I give it all back? I gave him enough and hid the rest in the house, a place no one would think to look.

February 28th, 2010

I have less than a week left with the girl I’ve spent my whole life with. Fuck, this is killing me, but I can’t bring her with me. She wouldn’t be happy living on the run. Today I sent her flowers just because I never do that. I know she’s going to think something is up, but I want her to remember how much I love her—forever.

March 1st, 2010

I took my Dahl to lunch today. I don’t know why I never did that more often. I even brought her a bag of her favorite peppermint patties. I would’ve gotten her some fancy chocolate, but I know she loves mints the most.

March 2nd, 2010

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I met with him less than two weeks ago, and tomorrow I have to die. I’ve tried to back out but I’m in too deep and they want me dead. So today I’ll spend every minute with her making sure she knows how much I love her.

March 3rd, 2010

Today was the happiest and the saddest day of my life. I love her like I’ve never loved before. I knew it was our last time together, and I needed her in a way I can’t even explain. We shared a bond I’ve never felt with her before. Maybe it was because I knew I’d never see her beautiful smile again, touch her sexy body again, kiss her soft lips again, or even walk this sandy beach with her again. She had no idea what was going to happen or why I was so emotional and that just tore me apart.

I gave her a bracelet to symbolize my love for her, and I hope she never takes it off. Saying goodbye was tough, but I had to do it to protect her, to save her. Leaving her alone in the f**king car wrecked me. She pleaded for me not to be the hero. I was no f**king hero. I was doing what I had to do to save her. When I looked at her one final time, I wished I were actually going to die. I left her lying on the floor of the car. She believed I was getting out to save her from a crazed lunatic. I guess in a way I was, but her painting me to be some hero made me want to throw-up. I certainly wasn’t her hero. She was in danger because of me. Still, you’d think that I'd sleep better knowing she will always have those final thoughts of me as her hero, but I know that I won’t. I made Caleb bring me here one last time to say my own silent goodbye. I just can’t leave without seeing it. This was our favorite place to be. I may never be able to come back here so I want to say goodbye. Goodbye to the beach, goodbye to my mother, sister, and nephew, and goodbye to her.

I have visited this place many times, but today it’s different. I’m alone. There are no comforting arms around me. My body trembles but not from the cold; it’s from the realization of fate. A single tear slowly drips down my face as I look into the night and scream, “Why couldn’t we just stay together?!”

As the wind moans in the distance, thunder crashes and lightning strikes. I stand here just hoping the impeding storm will carry me away and erase the shadow that looms over me. A slow soothing rain falls from the blackened sky, but it provides no relief to my ravaged soul. A mist slowly rises into the night, puddles form in various spots, and the cold air sends shivers down my spine. The dark, the storm—they are both upon me.

As a lone figure, I huddle to the ground feeling completely lost. As my tears merge with the rain into one slow dance, they only fall further into the darkness. No one is here to see me. No one knows where to find me. Only the vultures notice me as they fly swiftly overhead, seeking shelter against the cold rain. I’m not looking for refuge in this place I now despise, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no hope. I have no future. This is where I belong—in the darkness.

March 4th, 2010

I was killed in a random carjacking gone badly. I’m in New York City now. Caleb dropped me off at some apartment he rented under my new name and got me a job as a college professor. Shit, I f**king hate him. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be alive today. I left everything behind except this one journal. I have nothing, and I’ll never see my Dahl again.

November 17th, 2011

Caleb showed up at my apartment after one of my classes. He told me something was going down, he didn’t know what and he was worried. He informed me that the house Dahlia and I shared together was ransacked like they were looking for something. He asked me if I had given him everything.

I lost my shit and just started pounding him uncontrollably and he let me. He never even tried to hit me back. I only stopped when I saw the blood running down his nose had soaked into his shirt and down onto the carpet. He grabbed a towel and held it to his nose but continued talking as if nothing happened.

I didn’t let him finish as flashes of my Dahl hurt, lying on our floor, kept flashing in my head. I think he sensed my concern, and with a nervous edge in his voice he told me Dahlia wasn’t around that weekend, so she wasn’t there when our house was broken into.

All I could think was thank f**k, but then I asked Caleb where she was. At first he shrugged his shoulders and turned away from me to sit on the couch, but I pressed him until he finally told me. He said Dahlia had come back to the house with some guy. I pressed further; I wanted to know what guy. Who was he? I got even more irritated as I silently worried. Was he using her to find the information I’d hidden so well?

My fifty questions continued, and I never paused to let Caleb answer. I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answers. All I knew was I had to get back there to see her, to be with her, but Caleb insisted I stay dead for her safety and for mine. He said they wouldn’t hurt her since she didn’t have anything to do with it, and I was dead.

I went to sit on the couch next to him. I told him he owed it to me to tell me what he knew. So he did. He said he was pretty sure Dahlia was f**king the guy he had seen her with. He told me he was really sorry after the words reluctantly came out of his mouth. Caleb went on to explain that he had followed them to some swanky LA neighborhood in the Hills. And as far as he could tell, she was staying there. Dahlia in the Hills. What the f**k?

I was f**king furious at him, at me, at her. She’s already shacked up with someone? I really wanted to kill the guy, and I wanted to beat the shit out of Caleb. The thought of my Dahl f**king someone else drove me to the verge of insanity.

I knew she’d move on eventually, but hearing it was something else entirely.

I had walked over to the CD player on a table in the corner of the room and just stared at it. The song playing, ironically, was Go to Hell by Go Radio. Fucking appropriate, huh? I couldn’t help myself. I pounded my fist on the player so hard it smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor, and I broke my f**king hand.

Caleb took me to the ER where they put a cast on my broken hand. God, could they just put a cast on my broken heart? I sat there in the ER, thinking back to Dahlia, and wondering why I hadn’t just insisted she marry me when I first asked her. Not that it would have mattered that much. Shit, either way I would never see her again.

Caleb left the next day. He assured me he’d watch out for her and said he wouldn’t contact me again.

September 21st, 2012

Sitting here now at the large wooden conference table with a room full of suits from some government section I still don’t even know the name of, I can hear every tick of the clock hanging on the f**king wall. All I can think about is that, after almost three years, I’m finally going to see her again touch her again, love her again. I gave up everything to keep my Dahl alive, and now I’m going to be able to finally get it all back.

Caleb told me she’s with some douchebag, supposedly it’s pretty serious, but I know the minute she sees me here in the flesh it'll be over. We just have too much history for it not to be.

Damn, why did I have to be so f**king good at my job? Why did I want to make my mark on the world of journalism? Today, I couldn’t tell you why because I lost it all in the blink of an eye. Back then I was hungry for it, and nothing else mattered. Well, that’s not true. I cared about all those people and what they were allowing them to do. I really did care.

I hadn’t heard from Caleb in almost nine months until he called me a few days. I knew something was up, but had no idea what. He asked me again if I had kept information, and once again, I lied and assured him I hadn’t. I tried to ask how my Dahl was, but he just hung up.

So when they called me yesterday and told me they were bringing me back in, I knew something must have happened. All they told me was that it wasn’t over, but they wanted me back here. I was accompanied by one of the suits and on the next flight from New York to LA. The only thing the suit told me was my house had been broken into again. I wondered if this time they found the information, but how could they? I asked if she was okay, but he didn’t answer.

And now I sit here. Where the f**k is Caleb? I asked them but got no answer. The answer I have received in the last twenty-four hours is, “Yes we have notified your family.” But I’m hanging patiently here because I can’t believe it’s actually going to happen when I never thought it would. My story will eventually come out. I will be free of them. Free to be with my Dahl. It seems surreal but so f**king real at the same time. My mother is on her way, and once I see her and tell her my story, I’ll finally get to call my Dahl.