The Weight of Regret

(Scripted abuse, language)

Dearest Evelyn,

I know you will never see this, and it will never reach you. It will sit in a dusty attic box and never again see the light of day.

But know that I am with you in my heart, despite what I have done. I am truly sorry and hope you forgive me and my honor.

With all due respect,

Auryn Rush

"Auryn, I need a hairbrush."

"Sorry, Jorge. Give me one second."

At the shop, I was waiting for a scheduled appointment with another rich person who didn't have to work for anything.

I tossed the young, dark-skinned man a small brush, and he went to the back room.

The shop door opened with a BRING! An older woman walked in- a rich woman who pretended to need her hair done although it had been a week since she had had it done before. "Auryn!"

"Mrs. Hugh. Have we decided what we're going to do today?"

"Do what?"

"Your hair, Mrs. Hugh."

"Oh! I was thinking of curtain bangs."

"Quite sure? There's no going back."

"My grandson's been telling me: YOLO! You only live once!" She put out her hand with her thumb and pinky finger sticking out from the fist she made.

"Kids these days," I murmured.

Sitting in the "hair chair" she continued, "How old did you say you were?"

"Twenty-six." Old enough to make mistakes that ruin the entirety of your life.

"Oh! I remember my twenties! I was at the bar mostly in college. Drinking beer and chatting up co-eds!"

"What was your major?"

"Drinking beer and chatting up"

"Co-eds." I laughed. "Got it."

I began to wet her hair thoroughly and run it through with a brush. "Did you go to college?" She asked.

"No. I went to beauty school."

"Did you ever want to go?"

I combed through her hair as I'd been taught to. "I suppose. But my grades weren't great and I didn't have the money."

"Well, I suppose it's not too late to go."

Not me. "Not for me, I'm afraid."

"Oh, well. You can't get them all! Plus, who would do my hair?"

I chuckled. "Yes. I guess that's a good reason."

"Life is the same. It's us who change."

"I'll finish closing up," Jorge said. "You get home. I've heard California's going to have a nasty storm."

I snorted. "Right. Good one." I grabbed my coat. "Have a good night."

"You too, Auryn. See you tomorrow."

Driving home, memories began to fill my brain as I remembered what had once been.

It'd been a long, light, and merry morning. At the crack of dawn, I was up and ready to take care of my morning chores.

"Up and at it, eh?" My father asked me.

"Animals first, family second." I'd replied.

"Good girl."

I'd gone out to the goats, pigs, then the chickens. "No, Jennie! Don't!" I picked up an egg, but Jennie the chicken snapped at my fingers.

She squawked at me to leave, and leave I did.

"-bout to work on the cows." I heard my father say through the window. "Yeah. She'll pick it up after. I'll let her know. Bye, Evelyn."

Evelyn called?

At eighteen, I'd still been doing this., but I loved it. I loved the farm and my beautiful horse: Cotton-eye-Joe. Evelyn, my long-time best friend had used to come over, but her boyfriend had long since gotten in the way of our relationship, that is, if we even had one anymore.

I went inside, took off my gloves and boots, and washed my

hands before sitting down at the table for breakfast.

"Eggs in a basket!" My mother announced.

Ever since school had been out, she had been making more and more exotic breakfasts, so I was grateful that today, it was just eggs in a basket.

"Did I get any calls?" I prompted my father.

"Matter o'fact, you did. It was Evelyn. Speakin' of, why don't we see her 'round the farm no more?"

I shrugged. "She has a life, I suppose."

"Yeah, well, I wanna see my second daughter every once in a while! When you call 'er, invite 'er o'er for dinner."

I chuckled drily. "I'll try, pops."

Snapping back to reality, I parked in my gravel drive out in the countryside.

Being my dad's only girl, I hadn't moved in my heart as far as I had in distance.

A goat barrelled toward my truck. I took one step toward it and it skidded before falling over like a log.

"Oh my goodness," I said. "Go back to your mother," I commanded as he got back up. He gave me a chatterful bleat before running back the way he'd come.

My farm was just as lively- if not more- as my father's. However, my horse still remained in Oregon. I had yet to retrieve Cotton-eye-Joe from my father's farm.

The farm smelled of hay and manure, but it had a sense of reprieve that I looked forward to every day after work.

I set my keys on their hook and took off my jacket and boots in the mudroom before stepping into the tidy living room.

To anyone else, this house wouldn't be ideal. Especially to any of the liberals who lived in California. But to me, it was homey. And quite expensive.

The home itself was open and wide. A loft held my bedroom and extra living room. From floor to ceiling, it might've been twenty feet tall. The decorum consisted of a dark wood that covered the floor and a cottage-like stone that was the wall.

Evelyn might've loved it. But I would never know now. She was gone forever.

Flopping down on the gray couch, I returned back to the world I longed to relive.

"Hello?" I'd asked when the phone had rung. "Oh, hey, Evelyn! Papa had said you rang earlier."

"I did."

I blinked at the bluntness. "So... what did you want to talk about?"

"O was wondering if I could come over?"

"Of course! Is your boyfriend coming too?"

There had been a long pause. "No. He has... work to do."

"Alright, then. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be there."

She clicked off the landline. "She'll be here tomorrow!" I'd said to my nosy parents.

"Yes! My mother had cried. "I'll cook some lemon bites!"

The next day, the door had been knocked on and Evelyn had come in, looking disheveled.

"Oh, dear! You look worse for wear! I hope your gentleman isn't keeping you up at night." My mother had said, giving her a warm hug. "I've made some lemon bites, but you'll want a pick of them before the boys get to them."

Evelyn smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Rush."

"Oh! You know better! I'm always Mama to you."

I giggled, "Alright, mama. Give Evelyn some breathing room.

Evelyn's smile fell apart at the sight of me. She looked more distraught. "Oh, Auryn."

"Eve, should we go to my room?"

She nodded and we went upstairs. "We'll get some of those in a little bit!" I called back down to my mother.

"I'll save you some! Have at it, boys!"

I closed the door. "Why are you here? I went the rest of the school year without my best friend. Why now?"

"Aury, I-" Her voice broke and I shoved my resentment of her perfect life down deep inside me until it rested in my bosom. "What?" I sat beside her on the bed.

"We're going to marry."

I looked at her with incredulity. "That's all you wanted to say?"

"No! Look, I-I'm not..." She breathed in deeply. "I'm going to show you something."

She lifted up her shirt exposing her midriff to her bra.

I gaped in horror at the brutality I saw living on her skin. "Who did this to you?" I whispered.

For on her skin were thousands-millions-of little bruises. Her stomach, her chest, her back, and her sides, all covered in yellow, green, blue, and purple.

"Did he do this to you?" I continued, my voice harsh and quavering.

She didn't respond. "Answer me!" I shouted.

She gave me a vague nod of her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and I knew they were streaking mine.

Hatred, anguish, and anger flooded through me. I wanted to murder who had done this to her, my best friend.

I flung my arms around her, holding her tight, both of us ignoring the flinch she'd made. "We have to tell the police. Papa, at least."

She pulled back. "No!" She replied. "No, Auryn. If you do that..."

"Eve! We have to! His kind of people deserve death! It's not your fault!"

"Better me than some other poor girl."

"No, Evey. We have to tell someone."

"Auryn." She said in a dead serious voice, "It's my secret. Trust me, keep it until I'm ready. Don't dishonor yourself by telling it."

I'd cried, back then. I cried until she got up and left, and I cried long after.

Flashback now over, I stood and moved to my bedroom. Kicking off my slacks, I replaced them with a pair of leggings.

Blondie, my blonde retriever hopped around the bed, begging.

I started my daily chores first by feeding him.

Going outside, I began to deal with my farm animals. "Oh, Evey. I wish you were here." I whispered to a nearby horse.

The horse nickered softly and I rubbed his mane. I finished my chores within an hour and clip-clopped back inside.

Once in, I collapsed against the door as memories made their way back, trapping me within their reach, but never allowing me to grasp them.

"Why'd she leave so soon?" My mama asked me.

"Nothing, mama. It was nothing. She never should've come." Shame ran through me as I said it.

"Nonsense! Bir if you insist on keeping whatever it is a secret, I won't pressure you."

I went to bed that night thinking of Evelyn and wondering if it would be different if I'd told.

The next morning, a knock on the door startled me awake. "Damn, is that the time?" I whispered. "Shit!" I ran downstairs to answer the door, but Papa had gotten to it before me.

"Hello, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to see... Auryn Rush? I understand this is her home. Are you the father?"

"I am, sir. May I ask what this is about?"

The man whispered something and my father went tense. "She's missing?"

I went to the door and immediately realized this wasn't your everyday farmer. This was a county police officer.

"Excuse me, miss. I understand you saw Evelyn Shire yesterday?"

The officer said.

"Yes, sir, What's this about?"

"She and her boyfriend were reported missing by the neighbor this morning."

I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand. "Oh, my goodness. Come in!"

My father ushered the officer inside and we got set up on the couch.

"I must ask you some questions." The man said, "And then I will leave on winged feet."

I nodded. "Understandable, sir. I am happy to comply."

"Yesterday, about when did you see her?"

"Noon, I believe."

"How long was her stay?"

"Less than an hour. Forty-five minutes, about."

"What happened in that time?"

I gave him a brief explanation. "She came over and we went up to my room. We talked and then she left."

"Did she give any idea as to what could've happened? Any enemies, perhaps?"

"No. But... she had these bruises. I think... No, I know her boyfriend was beating her. She didn't say so outright, but that's what she implied yesterday."

"Did you know this man?"

I shrugged, "I didn't know him. Not very well. He was a few years older than us. His name is Carson Greene."

The man finished writing his notes. "Alright, miss. Thank you for your cooperation. It was very helpful."

The male shook my hand, then my father's. "Please find her."

I conveyed my heart to the officer.

"We will do our absolute best, Miss. Good day!"

I awoke with a start. Dawn had broken out and the sun had begun to rise.

I finished my morning chores before heading to the salon.

"Oh, good!" Sarah-Anne chuckled gleefully, "I was wondering if you were going to make it."

"Even if I hadn't, you'd be just fine."

"Oh, don't be like that, Auryn! I was just messin' with you."

I laughed, "Alright. Does Jorge work today? He owes me a drink."

"Yeah, he's in the back. What's he owe you a drink for?"

"For somehow getting my lazy ass up in the morning. Somehow, he knows how much I hate sleep." I finished, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

I went to the back room. "I really hate you, you know."

Jorge chuckled. "Good to know. I'll give you a call tonight."

"Leave me a message. I'll listen to it with closed ears."

I tossed my jacket onto a chair and got to work, all the while, rewinding time.

"I can't believe she's missing!" My mother cried.

"I'll bet it was her sleazy boyfriend." I hissed, "It doesn't take a sleuth to understand things like that. He abducted her. The little, foul git.

I went three days without knowing anything or hearing anything from the cops.

On the fourth day, the phone rang and I answered it in a flash. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Auryn Rush?"

"Yes, sir."

"They've found her."

"Condition?" I practically shouted.

There was a long pause. "It's going to be hard to hear. Evelyn is dead. We're trying to locate Carson Greene. He's the culprit who killed her. His prints are-"

I hung up and dropped the phone in shock. I felt my body go languid. And then I began to sob.

Suddenly, the weight of the present crashed over me, pulling me sharply back to reality. I set the hair combs into the display.

"It's perfect!" Jorge said, his curls bouncing atop his head. "You know what? Men shouldn't use the word perfect. Makes them sound gay."

"Jorge, I hate to break it to you, but you work in a hair and beauty salon."

"Dammit."

I smiled at my friend. "Store's open. You should flip the sign."

He moved to do so. "are you seeing your family for Easter?"

"No! And I'm not going to."

"That's too bad! Well, me and my friends are hitting up the town bar. You wanna come?"

"The correct grammar is 'my friends and I'."

"Ah, man. You're correcting my grammar now? I'll have to take you home to Mama."

I laughed heartily. "Yes, I'll come with you and your friends."

"Good deal. Maybe then, they won't make fun of my profession if they see the amazing people I work with!"

"Or they'll keep ragging."

"Or they'll keep ragging. That seems the more likely option."

As I worked that day, I began to wonder how life might've been different, how things might've changed if I'd told my father before she left that day. If she would still be here today, if she would have a life, a husband, and children.

Instead, all that was left was the memory of her. And while I missed her so, I knew I had to move on. Evelyn was dead.

And as I looked into the shop at Jorge, I realized that where there are endings, there are still happy beginnings.