She Would Never Know Peace

Valerie laid perfectly still. Her hands were deliberately placed on the flat plane of her stomach, slowly rising and falling with every breath. She was, yet again, attempting to concentrate on her breathing. Her therapist had told her that the key to meditation was clearing the mind. Letting everything go blank. Creating an imaginary gate to the rest of the world and only allowing in thoughts about the steady breath filling and leaving the lungs. However, no matter how many times Valerie lay in this position with the goal in mind, the images and sounds she fervently tried to keep away always flashed. Deep blue eyes, loud blue sirens, bright red blood.

This is bullshit. Valerie let the words slip through the theoretically blank slate she was trying to form. She had yet to master this skill…clearly. Her therapist said it would take time, but Valerie knew she wasn’t adept to handle this for much longer. The constant stream of flashbacks were killing her one by one. Each one taking the blade that was always there and twisting it deeper. No matter how hard she tried, she knew they would be back. She would be back, and for as long as it all came back, she would never know peace.

As she repositioned on the bed, she could feel the deep, dark circles under her eyes. They had weaned her off many mind-numbing drugs after the accident, ones that kept her mind clear and her moods steady. The one measly anxiety pill they kept her on did nothing compared to the bliss that was not living in this world. A world with no pain or suffering. A world of no accident. A world where she had no memory of what it was like to live as her. The pill hardly even produced sleep. She had been chasing the high of knowing nothing ever since, but every time she closed her eyes, she was met with it all again. Sirens, screams, blood caked between fingers…

After the accident, it was deemed necessary that Valerie talk to a professional. She had always been a skeptic when it came to therapy, but she was a skeptic when it came to a lot of things. Psychics, ghosts, waiting 15 minutes after eating to go swimming…

“It’s time,” her therapist had said to her in clear, matter-of-fact terms. It was the day they yanked away her one way to solitude. “You need to learn to face this on your own.”

“I’m not ready,” Valerie had replied.

“You’ll never be ready, but today we start.”

Valerie hated her, and she was sure the feelings were mutual. Who wouldn’t hate her? Shortly after that, she introduced the breathing exercises. Valerie scoffed at the idea at first…but a person can only take so many sleepless nights before they're forced to try something different. Even after weeks of trying the techniques and counting endless sheep, she always found herself back in the moment. The hot summer night making her skin sticky. The smell of the tequila. Isabella screaming and screaming and screaming…

“In…out”, Valerie thought to herself, trying again to banish the thoughts from her mind.

The only true sound in her small box of a room was the incessant ticking of the clock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Over and over and over again. It was the kind of repetition that could drive someone mad. More mad than she already was. How she wished she could turn off her hearing for just a moment. How could she expect a clear mind when sounds existed? A normal person, one with a well-functioning mind, would simply get up off the bed, take the clock off the wall, and take out the batteries. Yet, Valerie remained horizontal, staring up at the ceiling. Deep down, she knew she didn’t deserve a silent room. The repetition of the Tick Tock was her own form of self-harm. As the sound tortured her for what could have been hours, she suddenly had the feeling she was no longer alone.

“The least you can do is acknowledge my presence…” a voice spoke from the side of the bed. Valerie squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could.

No, no, no, not again. She suddenly wished to be alone with the clock.

“I’m back, hun, open those pretty eyes so you can see me!”

Even without opening her eyes, Valerie knew who was speaking. She knew the sweet southern drawl in her voice. The way her blonde curls fell perfectly to her mid-back. She had the placement of the freckles on her nose memorized.

“Oh come on,” Isabella groaned, interrupting her thoughts, “we do this every timeeee.” She let the last sound of the word draw out. It made Valerie twitch with a memory.

Valerie slowly opened her eyes. Swallowing felt hard through her thick throat. Every time Valerie saw her, she was somehow more and more breathtaking. So full of life. Isabella was perfect. Isabella was dead.

“Are you trying that meditation shit again?” Isabella made herself comfortable, lying down right next to Valerie, just far enough away so they wouldn’t touch.

Valerie nodded in response.

Isabella giggled, and the sound was like knives to Valerie’s heart. “You can try, but you can’t get rid of me that easily. I will always be back.”

Isabella had been doing this song and dance from Valerie’s first drug-free day…or maybe she had been coming and visiting her all along. But, really, their entire friendship had operated like this. From the time they were little girls on the playground, Isabella was always the one pushing her. Making her do silly dances at talent shows, forcing her to go up to cute boys at the bar. Isabella was her cheerleader in the most literal sense of the word. They had been by each other's side, doing everything together, from the day they met. Except for death…

At first, Valerie was relieved when Isabella appeared by her bedside that day when she was finally clear-minded. Everyone must have made a mistake. Isabella was alive as ever, standing clear as day right in front of her.

“No, hun. I’m as dead as the split ends on your head,” Isabella joked in explanation. Valerie screamed and screamed and screamed. Isabella somehow laughed. She was always laughing.

No matter how little or much Valerie acknowledged her, Isabella always would be back the next day. Ready to do it all over again. Torturing her with the fact that she would never truly have her in her life again.

“Aren’t you gonna speak?”

“Sorry, I…” Valerie started but didn’t know how to continue. She never knew how to talk to anyone anymore. Not even to the living. She could count on one hand the number of visitors she had after the accident…but the ones that came never received more than a few-word answers. It was as if all the wires in her brain had crossed. Sure, her heart still beat and all her bones were intact, but she was no longer capable of the nonsensical conversation everyone who was living insisted on having with her.

“I’ve been standing there for a while, and you’ve just gone on ignoring me,” she complained, her gaze fixed on Valerie while hers remained glued to the ceiling. “You know I hate it when you don’t look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Valerie breathed deeply, mentally preparing herself. She slowly turned her neck to face the deep blue eyes that were forever etched into her mind.

“There, that’s better…so what’s on your itinerary today? Hmmmm, oh wait, let me guess!” She spoke with carefree mockery, “self-loathing, failed meditation…and my favorite, staring at the ceiling and wishing you were dead.”

Valerie’s breath quickened as she spoke; she felt her heart racing in her chest as she struggled to calm her mind. She tried to reach for the anxiety meds that were on her bedside table. Sirens, screaming, sirens, screaming.

“Oh, relax, it was a joke! You used to love my jokes…” she said while she rolled her eyes. She carelessly shook the pills, “Sorry, I’m taking these for a bit,” she said with a wink.

“You know I hate it when you say…” Valerie loathed the way her voice sounded as her words trailed away. Whiny and out of breath.

“Yes, dead, I know, maybe that’s why I continue to say it. Push your buttons a little,” she said with a smirk. She twirled a blonde curl through her fingers. Valerie almost smiled, remembering time and time again Isabella twirling the same piece of blonde hair. She saw her in the passenger seat…twirling and twirling…screaming and screaming…

“So…how do you want to go about this today? Talk about the good memories, bad memories…we haven’t made it to the accident yet, have we?” Isabella was toying with her as she always did. Always threatening to relive the events that brought them here, to this very moment.

Valerie focused on the ticking of the clock. Feeling the breath go in and out. Willing Isabella to go away.

“You’re never going to be rid of me until we talk about this,” Isabella said as Valerie felt the tears start streaming down her face.

“I wish it was me,” Valerie whispered through wretched sobs when she finally spoke, “it should be me, I should be the one dead. Not you.”

“Well…that wasn’t what happened,” she said too matter of factly, “we’re both as much responsible for that night…” she let the sentence trail away from her. “It's only been a few weeks, give it time. Time heals all wounds or something, right?”

“But time won’t bring you back.” Valerie forced herself to meet the deep blues once again, “No matter how much time passes, you will still be dead and I will still be….a….” Valerie couldn’t let herself finish.

Isabella knew what she was going to say, and she didn’t tell her that it wasn’t true. Because it was true. Valerie recounted the events leading up to that night over and over. If only they didn’t drink…if only she didn’t get behind the wheel…if only she hadn’t swerved when she saw the deer. If only she had never been born at all…then Isabella would still be alive.

“Murderer is a strong word…” Isabella said, completing her sentence.

“Just stop talking,” Valerie said, interrupting her. She didn’t want to hear it. Sometimes, Valerie thought maybe she was actually dead. That this was some form of purgatory before she was sentenced to her eternal damnation. Whatever it was, she knew she deserved it.

“At least I died in a cute outfit,” Isabella rebutted, staring down at her pink matching set, “it doesn’t seem that the dead are entitled to a wardrobe change.”

Valerie continued to sob as she took her hands and aggressively pressed them against her ears. I deserve this. Breath in. Breath out. I’m a monster.

She felt Isabella climb on top of her, wrench her hands away from her ears, and pin them down next to her head. Valerie forced herself to stare up at the beautifully dead girl.

“Val, this is pitiful, really…let’s just get this over with.”

With what could only be explained as magic, or maybe Valerie’s mind had finally fully snapped, Valerie and Isabella found themselves outside Macmillan’s on the hot summer night that brought them to this hell.

Valerie screamed and dropped to her knees. This can’t be real.

“Okay, talk about dramatic,” Isabella scoffed, looking down at her. She picked her up by the armpits and placed her back on her feet, “This is my favorite part! Look at how much fun we were having.”

They stared into the bar window. The two of them were laughing and dancing and drinking without a care in the world. If only they knew that this was the night everything would change. They watched them slowly leave through the big wooden doors. Valerie could feel their laughter pierce through her.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” past Valerie had asked Isabella. Isabella was stumbling her way through the parking lot, digging through her bag, trying to locate her keys.

“I’m completely fineeee,” past Isabella said, drawing out the last sound of the word. She tripped over her own two feet and fell onto the pavement.

“Okay, I guess that’s a no,” past Valerie laughed as she helped her friend up. She grabbed the car keys and swung them around her finger. She located Isabella’s car and helped her into the passenger seat.

“Are you sure?” past Isabella drawled.

“Yes! I’m sure! I had one drink. I'm fine,” replied past Valerie as she slid into the driver's seat. Past her had a smile on her face…current Valerie knew that that was the last time she would ever smile. She watched in horror, glued to the scene, willing her past self to make a different decision.

“I shouldn’t have drunk so much,” current Isabella and past Isabella said in unison. Valerie turned to face her dead friend.

“Sorry…I’ve watched the scene play out so many times,” Isabella said wistfully, not taking her eyes off the past.

“How can you stand it?” Valerie asked, trying once again to breathe deeply and slowly.

“It brings me peace in a certain way…knowing that, however I wish it to be, nothing about that night can change. What was meant to be has been…” she explained with a sad shake of her head.

Valerie turned back in horror as she watched her past self start the engine and turn down the road.

“I really thought I was okay to drive…” Valerie whispered, tears streaming, “...we should have called a car.”

“Yes…We should have,” Isabella agreed.

The car barely made it 100 feet down the road before they heard the sounds that haunted Valerie’s every moment. Sirens, screaming, sirens, screaming. She stared at the smashed car against the tree. Red and blue lights taking just minutes longer than they should have. Minutes that Isabella didn’t have. Valerie screamed again and again as she watched the scene play out in front of her. She screamed for her past self, for her current self, for Isabella…

Between the screams, Valerie somehow found herself back in the room lying on the bed. Isabella still had her pinned.

“Stop screaming!” Isabella shouted at her, clearly frustrated.

“Let go of me, let go of me,” Valerie screamed, trying to turn away.

“Listen to me,” Isabella was holding her down with such force it was almost painful, but her words were soft as she spoke, “I forgive myself and I forgive you. It’s time for you to do the same.”

Valerie stopped twisting as she stared up into the deep blue eyes once more, “Why on Earth would you need forgiveness?”

“I was supposed to be the one safe to drive that night…” she admitted in a whisper, “if I had done what I was supposed to. If I didn’t drink and had been able to drive…we wouldn’t be here.”

“But…it’s my fault I…I killed you,” Valerie finally spoke the words out loud. I killed her. I am a murderer.

Isabella shook her head, “I forgive you. Forgive yourself, too.”

Valerie couldn’t bear it. She could never. She would never forgive herself.

After what was probably minutes, but felt like hours of agony, Isabella finally let her go with a deep sigh, turning to face the clock.

“It’s almost 5:00…your therapist will be here any minute. We’ll try again tomorrow,” she said as she gently placed a kiss on Valerie’s forehead. When Valerie finally opened her eyes, she saw no trace of her best friend.

Valerie gasped as if she had been holding her breath…maybe she had been. She fumbled toward the nightstand for the pointless medication. The panic attack seized her as she curled into a ball and forced herself to swallow the pill dry. She would never forgive herself, and for as long as that was the case, they would always be back. The thoughts, the images, the sounds… She would always be back, too. Valerie would never know peace. She didn’t deserve it.