92 likes
162 comments
“They’re inseparable, those two.” My mom would often say. She wasn’t wrong.
Jess and I have been best friends since nursery school. We knew each other so well. So that’s how I know she’ll wake up. There I was, sitting at her hospital bed, clutching her hand, holding back tears. I rested my head on her stomach. C’mon, I’m better than this. Don’t cry. Don’t. Cry. I don’t remember what happened to Jess. All I know is that I’m here now, sitting at what might be her deathbed.
“Don’t leave me... Please, I NEED you.” I softly whispered into her ear.
Holding back tears was about the hardest thing to do. I couldn’t help myself. If I lost her, it’d feel like I lost a part of myself. I took a minute. I wiped off the tears with my shirt, letting out a strong sniff before touching her cheek and leaving the room.
Denial:
I walked out of that hospital room with a sense of feeling lost.
“She can’t be dead.” I thought.
“Whatever happened to her, I’m sure it can be treated, right?”
It felt like I was lying to myself. For what? This is stupid. I should just come to grips with it. I was walking down the hall, looking at the floor. I froze up when her parents approached the room. Her Mom stopped to talk to me.
“What happened to Jess? What happened to my poor baby?” She said in shock. I could see the fear in her eyes. Poor lady, she just found out. She was holding both my arms tight, looking at me right in the eye. I felt like I was put on the spot to answer.
“I-I don’t know, I was already here and--” I cut myself off. How did I get here? I don’t remember driving. I guess I rode in the EMT truck with Jess when it happened. She noticed the pause, so she continued.
“Listen, Nick. I know this is a lot to take in. I think you need some rest, honey. I can tell this is stressing you out. You should head on home, okay? Say hi to your mom for me.” She said to me.
“W-will do, Ms. Maheshwaran.” I said to her. I drove home feeling out of sorts.
What happened to Jess? She’s in a coma, but from what? From who? For some reason, I felt like I knew what happened to her. I think I just needed to clear my head; my mind felt fuzzy. I opened the door to my apartment, threw the keys on the kitchen table and went to my bedroom.
As I took off my coat, I noticed an orange hue in the corner of my eye. I turned around with a quickness. It was sitting on my nightstand. What the hell is that? I wondered, as I curiously walked over to it. A pill bottle. It had Rohypnol written on it. Did someone drug me? Is that why I don’t remember anything from the past 48 hours? I started to piece together a theory.
Anger:
“It was her BOYFRIEND.” I said to myself.
It made sense. I never liked that guy. He didn’t cherish her like I did, but for some reason, Jess felt obligated to stay with this asshole. He probably got her to overdose or something. Enough to knock her into a coma. What the hell is this dude’s problem? I was gonna confront him. I got in my car, and proceeded to drive to Chris’s house. I knew it for sure. He was a little bit of a druggie, so I’m not surprised that it was him.
I got to his front porch, furious. I did two hard knocks on the door; pattering my foot, arms crossed. I shook my head in disbelief and anger. This guy BETTER have a good reason. At this point, there’s nothing stopping me from straight up killing this guy. He answered the door, looking like he just woke up. Figures.
“So, that's your ideal Saturday, huh? Just, beat your girlfriend half to death, and go back to sleep. Job well done, you psychopath?!” I shouted at him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He said, confused. He was still rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the morning sun.
“Oh wow,” I slow clapped, “Bravo, bravo… Oscar worthy performance. Feel good about yourself, Ted Bundy?”
“What happened to Jess? Is she in the hospital?” He said, lost.
“C’mon, man. Cut the shit, I know it was you. Just come clean and I promise I’ll do the same to you that you did to Jess.” I said, stepping towards him as I was rolling up my sleeves. He raised his arms in a backing off motion.
“Hey, what are you doing? I didn’t even KNOW Jess was in the hospital.”
“Yeah you--”
I had that feeling again. I touched my head, stumbling back a bit. I regained balance, and apologized to Chris.
“S-sorry, man. I’m just out of it, today. It’s just… What happened with Jess. It was… Bad.”
“You would know. She was with you last.”
“WHAT? Since when?”
“Well, you said you guys were gonna go on a hike, remember?”
“No, not really.”
A faded memory started to surface in my mind. I WAS with her. She was knocked unconscious, in front of me. Did I let the killer get away?
“Um,” He snapped his fingers at me, “Nick? You good.”
The image slipped away from my mind; Chris snapped me out of it.
“Dude, what the hell? I was starting to piece together what happened in my head!” I said, angry.
“Sorry,” he paused, “I’m gonna check on Jess. What hospital is she at?”
“Ask her mom, she’ll tell you.” I said.
He frantically got in his car and drove off. I was still standing on his porch, lost. What happened on that hike?
Depression:
I layed in bed, staring at the ceiling. Who would do this to her? She was a light of hope in this horrible world. A whole future ahead of her; she wanted to be a nurse. Help people, take care of them. Nursing them back to recovery, making sure their families can still make memories with loved ones. She was such a sweet girl. I remember the time we were out in the woods once. We were 12. I saw a roly-poly bug, so I was gonna squash it.
“No, don’t do that!” Jess shouted at me. I froze in my tracks.
“What? Why not?” I curiously asked.
“C’mon, get on outta here.” She said, as she shooed the bug away.
"What's the big deal? It's just a bug."
"It's more than just a bug, Nick. It's a living creature."
"But it's not like," I paused, "Human or anything."
“How would you feel if someone stepped on YOU?”
“Um, no one’s that big.”
She laughed.
“Yeah, but imagine if you were that bug. You have a family that loves you. The bestest friend in the whole wide world!” She grinned, then continued, “Imagine you have a nice job, comfortable house, on your way back from work. And then BAM, just like that, some guy steps on you. And that’s it. Gone.”
“Yeah, I guess I would feel really bad, huh?”
“You’d be dead, silly.”
It’s funny how it comes full circle. Not good funny, though. Like, sadistically, unfortunately funny. I wasn’t sad for Jess, Which was weird. I should feel for her, right? Am I grieving correctly? Does that even make sense? There’s no wrong way to grieve. I felt more sad for the person who did this. It’s like, why? Why’d you do this?
She did nothing to you. You had no reason. She didn’t deserve this. Why does the world work this way? I hadn’t noticed that I started tearing up; I could barely see the ceiling anymore.
Bargaining:
I wiped them off my face and began asking for forgiveness.
“Please, God. Help me. It should’ve been me. I know whoever did this didn’t mean it. Take that person’s life for hers.”
But for some reason, I didn’t want that. I didn’t want that person to die in place for Jess. I felt like it would be unfair to kill someone else. I could feel for this person, and I don’t know why, but I felt connected to the killer. Maybe I knew the person? I don’t know. Or maybe it’s because Jess is my best friend and it’s easy to imagine who’d want me dead. Er, her dead. Either way, I can’t let her die in vain. Not like this.
“I’m not asking for you to bring her back. All I’m asking for is closure. Even if it’s just for a second. Please. Just let me talk to her.”
I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. I had to think, is this really what I wanted? Yes, it was. If it’s the last time I ever talk to her, I want her to know that I was there for her. Since the beginning. She was the only person in the world I felt really understood me. She was made for me. I wanted her. But, then she met Chris. Frickin’ Chris. It’s unfair. How could she not see that she belonged with ME?
I know I can’t change the past, but I can change the present. I should confess my feelings for her. I picked up my phone. 3 Missed calls from Jess’s mom. Crap. I called back, anxious to hear from her.
“Nick, Jess is,” She began to cry, “S-she’s.... Just… come to the hospital.”
I left the house, but before I went out the door, I looked at the pill bottle. Was I taking them to forget what happened to Jess? Did I know what happened? I thought about it for a second, then went out the door.
Acceptance:
I got to the room, and stood in the doorway, still. Why did this happen to you? I approached her. She was, almost dead. Basically only alive because of the machine. I sat down, firmly grasping her hand.
“Hey, Jess. It’s me, Nick. I know this is a bad time, but I need to tell you something that’s been on my mind.” I stared at her lifeless face; like a vessel with no inhabitant.
“It’s just, ever since I met you, I knew you were the one for me. And I know, I know, you have a boyfriend. And that’s okay. I accept that. But, I just thought, if you’re still even the slightest bit conscious, I wanted you to know I never took our friendship for granted. I just never had you to myself. We never dated, and although I'm still hung up on it, I’ll always cherish what we did have. And for that reason, I’ll never forget you. EVER.” I said to her.
I froze. My memory caught up to speed in that moment. What I said made something click in my head. Then it hit me. I think I figured out the reason why I wasn’t able to be sad about Jess. I told her,
"I’ll never forget you."
It’s starting to come back. The pill bottle on my nightstand, Me blaming Chris immediately, the strange feeling I had about the killer, the inability to really feel for Jess’s death; All of it’s connected. It all comes full circle. It's because I did it.
I killed Jess.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
Your story is well set up and played, card by card. It is masterful how both the story on its own, and the framework of aligning with the stages of grief could both stand as concepts on their own, yet you have combined them into one story! So this is like have double supports. Very nice work on both the structure and story development! If it weren't for your compelling story, I would have trouble "forgiving" you for making him the killer, as I really relate and like the main character! (In reality, I can understand someone like him accidentally killing someone and blanking out. But as deep as he feels and thinks, deliberately doing it out of jealousy in a moment of bad judgment doesn't seem plausible to me, unless he was on anti-depressants and his medication was off. The way the criminal mind operates that is chronically conditioned, is a much more engrained selfish narcissistic denial, from "deep rooted unforgiveness." Such minds do not think the way other people do, but constantly reframe everything to be about them being the victim of others. They do not switch back and forth between empathetic, but use empathy to get what they want. So I have trouble seeing Nick as having even a repressed streak in him, and would either need to see some accidental moment, like a fight causing her to fall during the hike; or some reference to him being on anti-depressants, like Jess being his best friend who always understood and accepted him, but Nick having some reaction or withdrawal switching medications, and not remembering an episode that comes back to him later.) The only place I would ask for more editing is the 5 sentences of dialogue between "apologizing to Chris" and "faded memory" -- because those lines did not address names, I couldn't tell who was saying which to each other. I didn't seem to me that Chris was reacting enough, but if you wanted to use this interchange to show that Nick doesn't react and has a sociopathic lack of empathy, it could be established here, where Chris DOES go ballistic and "can't understand" why Nick ISN'T reacting and why "he's always been that way." Then maybe I could believe it. Daryl, I think your writing still shows you are too nice, and do not think like the minds of people who truly and dangerously lack ability to see the world except for their own convenience. If I can recommend a couple of books, if you want to understand the nature of evil and where it comes from, please promise me you will keep your good natured style and faith in humanity! The books I would refer to you are both by Scott Peck: People of the Lie, and Glimpses of the Devil. These are good to understand if you have a strong foundation of faith, and are not afraid of the solutions it takes to heal people of true latent, repressed sickness. I think having fuller understanding of the cause and cure of criminally ill minds would make any writing more authentic, because each stage of recovery is manifested in the mindsets at different levels of denial or gradual resolution. Peck noted this in his observations, that he could quantify the changes at each stage. I will reread your story, and see if I can follow Nick as going through these stages, but on the first reading he still comes across to me as a normal person, and not having latent repressed issues that could trigger a psychotic breakdown or schism in reality, unless there was some unnatural reaction to medication.
Reply
Wow, I LOVE this in-depth analysis! I agree with you on the Chris thing. I feel he didn't react strongly enough, and that's why it makes the reader think that it was him. Also, sorry I didn't address the names, because other writers tell me that I do more telling than showinng, so I was veering away from it to make the dialogue feel more fluid. I'm sorry if that confused you. Thank you for the book, suggestions, I will look into stuff like that, but for now, I think I'll stick to movies. Also, I didn't notice that I was too nice. I'll try to think like a psychotic person next time, lol. Thank you for your feedback; it was a HUGE help. I look forward to you reading my stories and giving me feedback like this. THANK YOU EMILY!!!!
Reply
Dear Daryl: I can tell by your positive response how nice you are! What I mean by too nice, I mean I can tell because of how nice you are, personally, your characters are going to be shielded or limited, not like the real mean type that destroy themselves tragically from the inside out. The books are not fiction, they are from a psychiatrist who looked into the mindset of sociopathic or pathological liars he treated, and he spelled out what went wrong where their minds went on the wrong path. And what he learned from a priest about the stages of treating someone who has a personality disorder taken over by negative influences. So these books are just to help give a framework of what goes into the mind of people who appear born that way. I think from your answer it is best you stay shielded, so it doesn't affect your sweet writing style that shows your best forte! If you ever want to get into the meaner colder characters, stay sweet and nice, and just partner with a darker writer who can provide that edge to characters that need that sharper sinister contrast, while you stay on the positive side of humanity that doesn't need to go there. That will provide the contrast, by working with meaner writers while you stay the good guy! Take care, and as you go further into the professional world of writing, look for talent who write from the opposite style or characters than you do. Keep at least 1-2 friends whose personality or thinking either clashes with yours, or makes you feel bad or struggle to tolerate. So when you need to present contrast or conflict with a character outside your nice guy thinking, you can borrow that other energy from your friends but don't let it affect you. Maybe that's safer for someone as nice as you! Thanks for sharing here, and if you ever need advice on writing a truly nasty character, who is nothing like you, you can always ask me for more references, and I'll try to help. There are people on my Facebook page alone, and some dark comedians and bullies on usmessageboard in the flame zone section who can show what cold callous is, if you really want to see what they talk like. The main reason I can handle people being that way is knowing the cure, so I have compassion and can even joke back with them. That's why I suggested those books by Peck on what cures those types of sick people. Never mind though, just stay nice and positive. The world of writing needs more nice people like you, too many meanies in the world as it is. Thanks for being here and sharing your talents, stories and comments!
Reply
Wow, thank you! I love your comments! SO fun to read! And I'm glad there are people like us in the world. You don't see many people that are nice like us! Also, I'll be sure to keep you in mind when I'm doing a story! Real talk, I don't think I'm gonna be writing a story anytime soon. This might've been my last story. But that could change. Thanks again for the EXTREMELY HELPFUL suggestions! Never stop helping! I love hearing from you!
Reply