The way home

Content warning: death, suicide

Once again, Regan found herself in her car, on the jagged road to her grandparents’ cabin. Her parents were so used to her disappearing out of nowhere that they didn’t even bother calling her. Of course, it would be pointless, considering she left her phone at home. Strict as they wanted to be, they understood their broken marriage exhausted Regan to the limit. But she wasn’t thinking about them as she was passing the snow covered trees. It wasn’t her workaholic mother or her addicted father she was crying for as she was driving by the frozen river, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. It was the first time she went there without Cleo, the person she loved more than anything else. Her best friend, mostly her only one, who had the awful destiny of being in a car with her father on the icy roads in the middle of winter. The car skidded and hit another vehicle, and she was the only one to not make it. The sight of the cabin rising from under the thick white blanket comforted her, and she immediately felt immeasurably guilty for enjoying this by herself. She wiped her tear stained cheeks, entered the cabin she knew so well and hurried to light up the fire. “I probably shouldn’t stay too long. One night will do.”, she told herself as she made a cup of tea. “No electricity, just like the old times”, she tentatively repeated her gram’s words everytime she went there as a child and asked why everything is so outdated.”It’s beautiful because it’s so calming and timeless. Time flows differently here, away from everything that works on batteries and electricity”. The taste of hot tea made her tears pool in her eyes again. “Lavender. Her favorite.” Cleo used to drink it for her awful sleep disorders. Regan abruptly put the mug down and walked out to grab her things from the car. The biting cold shook her as she stepped out from the warmth of the cabin. She grabbed what she needed in a rush and went back inside. She spared a look at the big clock on the wall and layed on the couch. 

And then she was on thin ice, Cleo a few feet away. She wanted to run to her, but the ice cracked and she fell. The cold stabbed her like silver daggers, and water was filling her lungs. 

She jumped up, breathing heavily. She broke out in a cold sweat, despite the warmth of the fire. She told herself she wouldn’t cry any more, so she put the blanket over her head and started humming a song she couldn’t remember the name of. She thought of Cleo, with her fire red curls and her hazel eyes. She thought of the days they read together, spending hours in complete silence, getting lost in worlds they didn’t understand. She thought of her silly obsession with journaling and of how beautiful she looked with her curly hair let down over her freckled shoulders. And before she knew it, she was sobbing again. She regretted she never had the courage to look her in the eyes and tell her she loved her, to kiss her rosy lips, to hug her as she dozed off. Her heart didn’t break, it shrinked until there was nothing but a hollow in her chest. 

When she woke up again, her eyes were puffy and red, and the wind was roaring loud outside. The snow was hitting the windows violently as she rose to peek out. Her jaw almost dropped at the sight of the chaotic blizzard. “There’s no way I’m going home in this weather”, she thought as she went to wash her face. “Looks like I’ll stick around for a while”. As she was looking around the small cottage, a box on top of a wardrobe caught her eye. She took it and peered inside, a sorrowful smile stretching across her face. It was the gift Cleo gave her just a few months ago, for her birthday, a copy of The Great Gatsby. She looked at the first page. Cleo’s gorgeous cursive was curling into words she made herself read again and again, until her tears smudged the ink completely.

 “You’re the light in the darkest of times”

She got up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Her emotions, a tangle of anger, sadness and endless wasted love, were pushing down so hard on her chest she believed she might explode. She began scribbling on the paper so brutally she thought the thin sheet would rip at any moment. When she put her pen down, she started reading it aloud, as if it were for the walls and the woods and the fire and the frozen river to hear. 

Dearest Cleo,

I wish I could’ve told you this in person. I wish I had at least a spark of your courage or a piece of your strength. I wish I would’ve reminded you more often that you’re beautiful and perfect and all I’ve ever wanted. I wish you could’ve come to the cabin with me one last time. If I’d known you wouldn’t make it home that evening I would have apologized for our fight. I will never forgive myself for parting with you like that. Nothing is the same without you. I brought you white roses everyday, the ones you loved so much from our garden. Your father is fine, but he blames himself a lot. I told your sister she could come to me to talk and we meet everyday after school. The sun shone so brightly on your funeral day it felt like spring had come to say its goodbye to you. I have so many questions, so many regrets, and it’s overwhelming. No one understands me like you did and I want to promise you that we’ll meet again, in the next life perhaps. Thank you for the best years of my life. 

Always and forever, 

Regan

She carefully folded the letter and put it in her book, over the smudged ink that was the only confession of love she needed. She layed on the couch, hugging the book tight, placing it over the dark hollow of her heart. She closed her eyes, and the tears took over her once again. 

Today, a teenager was found in her family’s cabin, dead from carbon monoxide poisoning. Regan Bourne, age 18, was stuck in the blizzard that struck the area. When she didn’t return after more than 3 days, her parents contacted the authorities. The specialists deduced she was asleep when a leak of carbon monoxide occurred from the fireplace. She shall be remembered as a beautiful daughter, a gifted student and a reliable friend to those who have known her.