Ch 10 - Easier to Run

It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
Something has been taken from deep inside of me
The secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see
Wounds so deep they never show they never go away
Like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played

“Easier To Run” - Linkin Park

I plopped down on the couch and kicked off my shoes. I pulled my right foot up and started rubbing it. My feet ached, a splitting pain radiating across my arches. My legs felt like they were on fire, my muscles throbbing.

I’d received a call while at work and was told my therapy was cancelled for the day. Apparently he had something come up that he couldn’t get out of and insisted that our session be rescheduled for tomorrow. I didn’t buy it for a second.

After work, I went for a long run. I pushed my body to its limits and ran until I couldn’t take another step. I literally collapsed to the ground eventually, my legs giving out. I caught myself before any real damage could be done, but I succeeded in scraping up my knees and the palms of my hands. I pulled myself up off the ground and limped to a bench nearby. A woman holding a child’s hand stopped in front of me. She reached into the oversized bag she was carrying and pulled out a little plastic case. She opened it and pulled out a small bottle of peroxide and some bandages.

I looked at her skeptically and she laughed, telling me her kid was clumsy. I looked at the little girl with her… she had a Band-Aid on her forehead and a few scratches on her arms. I smiled at her, empathizing. I knew exactly what she had to look forward to growing up, as I had been exactly like her at her age.

I thanked the lady and fixed up my scrapes. I sat on the bench for a while, giving my body time to rest before limping back to the apartment.

Today was the last day of March. Therapy the past few weeks had been easier than I expected, and true to his word we’d pretty much stayed on the topic of Edward. I found it easier to talk about him than I thought it would be and despite having to filter out all mention of the supernatural I found myself being quite honest.

I even admitted to him that I’d lied in a previous session… I had told him the fake story that had been concocted about the incident in Phoenix. In the midst of talking, I admitted that Edward had followed me to Phoenix to save me. I told him that a man had been stalking me and that Edward made it his mission to stop him. I told him that the man attacked me, and Edward made it in the nick of time. I’d been hurt, but Edward had stopped him from killing me.

He didn’t ask questions about it thankfully, didn’t question what happened with the guy or why we lied. He was disappointed I’d lied before, but thankful that I was opening up and being honest.

And it felt good. I felt better, freer in a way. The more I talked about him, the less pressure I felt. The less weight I felt on my shoulders.

I still couldn’t say his name without it hurting, but at least now I tried.

I’d actually been looking forward to therapy today, but when he called and cancelled the dread crept in. He could pretend it was out of his control all he wanted, but I wasn’t stupid. He knew the significance of tomorrow just as well as I did and I knew exactly why he wanted to see me then.

Tomorrow was April 1st, otherwise known as April Fools Day. I can recall clearly every prank Renee had pulled on me over the years on this day. She always looked forward to it and made up elaborate hoaxes that had us laughing for days. But there was no longer anything funny about this day, nothing left to laugh about.

Because tomorrow, April Fools Day, marked one year. It was the one-year anniversary of the day everything came to a head, the day that led to me being institutionalized for 6 months. The day everyone had finally given up and turned their backs on me. It was the day I made the worst mistake of my life and ruined many others in the process.

And it was a day we had yet to talk about. So the significance of him insisting a session occur tomorrow didn’t pass me by.

I made myself a quick dinner. I missed cooking big meals, but it was pointless these days as it was only me. I had no one around, no friends. I hadn’t seen Darren since his release… I hoped he was out enjoying life, staying out of trouble. I still spoke to my caseworker Denise occasionally, she would call or swing by quickly to check on me, but she was no longer obligated to do so since my restrictions had been lifted.

After I finished eating, I took a quick shower and crawled into bed. I made sure to pop an Ambien to help me sleep, as I was positive the nightmare would come tonight. It used to come maybe once a week at the most, but the past few weeks it started coming every few days.

As I was dozing off to sleep, my phone rang. I jolted up and grabbed it, sighing. Caller ID Unavailable. I flipped it open. “Hello?”

Silence. There was no dial tone, no beeping, so I knew someone was on the line. But they didn’t respond--they never did. Whoever it was had been calling quite frequently, at least once every few days and always during the evening. Occasionally I could make out noises in the background, but usually it was like tonight. Absolute silence. And whoever it was never hung up, they always waited for me to hang up first. I learned that the hard way. I’d fallen asleep one evening after answering and when I woke up hours later the call was still connected.

I had no idea what compelled me to continue answering, knowing what I’d find when I did. I guess a part of me hoped that someday, whoever it was would say something. I realized that was strange, that it was likely someone crazy or dangerous for them to continue to call and not speak, but it was the only excitement in my dull life so I humored it. It beat nothingness.

I snapped the phone shut and laid it on the stand. I rolled over and closed my eyes, allowing sleep to take me.

The nightmare came, just as I expected. The fog, the giggling, the screams, the pain, the feeling of being trapped. I woke up shortly before dawn in a cold sweat and trembling. I hopped in the shower and got dressed quickly, sitting down at the desk I’d recently purchased. I made decent money working at the library and had very few bills… I bought a few things for the apartment but otherwise saved it up.

I reached into the drawer and pulled out my checkbook. I wrote out a check quickly and placed it in an envelope, sealing it. I wrote out an address on the outside of the envelope, and gathered up my things.

I headed out of the apartment, walking towards the library. I slipped inside the post office quickly on the way. I bought a stamp and stuck it to the envelope, hesitating briefly before tossing it in the box for outgoing mail. I stood there for a moment, absorbing it all, and turned to head to work.

Work was slow. I had a shorter shift and I got off at around 1:30. I decided to walk to the park and enjoy the day. The sun was shining brightly, and it was warm out but not unpleasantly so.

I was strolling through a path in the park when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my bag and stopped walking. Caller ID Unavailable. I hesitated briefly, confused, as whoever it was had never called this time of day before. It was always at night, sometime after sunset.

I flipped it open and answered it at the last minute. “Hello?” I said, timidly.

Complete silence again. I walked over to a nearby bench and sat down.

“This can’t go on forever, ya know,” I said. “You’re either going to have to stop calling or speak up.”

Still nothing. I sighed loudly. I’d usually hang up by now, but something compelled me to stay on the line. I needed a distraction today, something to pass the time.

“It’s a beautiful day out,” I said. “You must have something better to do on a day like this than to call a strange phone number and not speak.”

I paused and laughed. “Actually, never mind. I don’t even know where the hell you live. You could live at the North Pole for all I know, so maybe it’s not a nice day where you are.”

I started babbling about nonsense then, saying anything that came to mind. I stayed on neutral topics, nothing personal. I spoke of the weather, and cars, and books. I even talked about food and how to cook certain things to make them perfect.

“It’s April Fools Day,” I said finally “You should be out pranking people, making jokes. Anything’s got to be more enjoyable than listening to me.”

There was a rustling noise on the line but they still didn’t speak.

I sighed again. “This is pointless,” I said. “I suck at one sided conversations. I doubt you’re even listening to me so I’m gonna hang up. I’d say it was nice talking to you, but you didn’t talk. So I guess, it was nice talking at you.”

I laughed and flipped the phone closed. I glanced at the time and gasped, noticing that I’d spent nearly 2 hours on the phone by myself. My therapy session was starting soon. I shut my phone off and started sprinting in the direction of the hospital.

I arrived in the nick of time. He called me into the office and I plopped down, out of breath from running. He smiled, picking up his pen as usual.

“We’re going to take a break from Edward today and talk about something else.”

I nodded, already expecting that. He stood up and opened his filing cabinet, pulling out a folder. He sat back down and opened the folder. I perked up and glanced over, trying to see the contents and noticed they were newspaper clippings.

“We’re going to talk about Lauren Mallory again,” he said finally. I sighed, nodding. “Were you still in the hospital the day of her funeral?”

“Yes,” I said simply.

“Is that why you didn’t go?”

“I guess. But even if I had been able to go, I wouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“It wouldn’t have been right.”

He sighed. I don’t know if he understood but he didn’t ask me to elaborate. He scanned through the newspaper clippings, pulling out one and putting it on top.

“Let’s talk about the events leading up to that night.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know how you and Lauren ended up there together.”

I sat silently, thinking of how to answer that. “I don’t know, honestly. Like I said, we weren’t friends.”

“Are you saying you don’t know why Lauren was with you that night?”

“No, I know technically why she was there, I just don’t know how it got to that point.”

He sighed loudly, obviously growing frustrated by my half-assed attempts at answering. I realized it sounded like I was being evasive but that wasn’t my intention.

“Look, I don’t want to disrespect her memory, but she was there for her own reasons. I can’t begin to guess what those were, but I know she surely wasn’t doing anything for my benefit. She still made snide remarks about me and talked about me behind my back, so why she’d even agree to go along with me I don’t know. Maybe she had ulterior motives, maybe it was supposed to be some April Fools joke.”

“Okay,” he said. “So let’s go with the facts of the situation and leave speculating her motives alone. Where did you go that night?”

“Port Angeles.”

“And everything went well in Port Angeles? No problems?”

“None,” I confirmed.

“And on the way back?”

“I was irritated. She was annoying me.”

“And…?”

“And I was withdrawing. I was exhausted and could barely stay awake. I got high and Lauren paid for that with her life.” I rattled it off quickly, raising my voice some. He sat quietly listening, scribbling notes. He didn’t speak for a few moments, so I groaned loudly and closed my eyes.

“It was an accident,” he said after a moment. I opened my eyes and looked at him skeptically. “It was. You made some mistakes, there’s no denying that. You did things you can never take back. But that doesn’t change the fact that it was an accident. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

I scoffed. “What I meant to do is irrelevant. It’s what I did that matters, and what I did was kill Lauren Mallory.”

“Intention is always relevant, contrary to what you may believe. Which is why you were sent here.”

“She didn’t deserve it,” I said, my voice low. “We didn’t get along, but she didn’t deserve to die. And she shouldn’t have. But she did, and nothing can change that fact.”

“Very true. And that is something you need to learn to live with. Your life isn’t over Isabella; it’s far from it. It may not feel that way now, but it’s true. You’re young and have your whole life ahead of you. That may not be fair in your eyes, because of the fact that Lauren no longer has hers. And you’re right that she deserved better. And the fact of the matter is, you owe her that. You can’t waste your life, moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, brooding. You owe it to Lauren Mallory to live life to the fullest, because she isn’t being given that opportunity and you are. Who are you to throw that away?”

I didn’t respond, but something in my expression must’ve reassured him that I’d been listening because he muttered ‘good’ and nodded.

“Have you started paying restitution yet?” he asked. I nodded.

“I mailed my first check off this morning.”

The timer went off, indicating the session was over. I stood to leave and he stopped me at the doorway.

“I meant it, Isabella. You can’t waste your life, you have entirely too much potential.”

I muttered a quick thanks before leaving. I exited the hospital and started walking home. I pulled my phone out of my bag, turning it on. I always turned it off during therapy out of respect, but I don’t know why I bothered. Not many people had my number to call me anyway.

My phone chimed, startling me, as it wasn’t my ring tone. I opened the phone, surprised to see it say I had a text message. I opened it and stopped mid-step, gasping.

From: Caller ID Unavailable

Message: You were wrong. I was listening, Bella.