Mistaken (2 page)

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Authors: J A Howell

BOOK: Mistaken
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All I can think about is you.

One year ago today, I lost you.

Jamie’s face flickered in her thoughts accompanied by a tight pain burning in her chest. The sensation felt as though she had taken a deep breath too close to a campfire.  This was supposed to get easier. It hadn’t. She clutched a hand to her chest, pushing herself back from her desk before heading for the kitchen. As she grabbed the orange prescription bottle from the cabinet, the tightness in Dillan’s chest eased slightly. Unscrewing the cap, she dumped a few pills into her hand. She didn’t pay attention to the recommendations on the side of the bottle.

Take one, as needed, for Anxiety.

Officially her doctor had diagnosed her with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She certainly was “post-traumatic.” A year ago, Dillan was what she would have deemed normal. Mentally stable. Content with her life. A year ago, she had been standing in the bedroom, marveling over the ring that he had left resting on her dresser, along with a note attached:

Marry me!

How cruel to read those joyful words, only to have them ripped away moments later. A life’s promise cut short, unable to even come into fruition. As she slid the ring onto her slender finger, her head began to fill with all the possibilities it represented. Just before those shots rang out, Dillan had imagined herself in a much different place than her current state. A wedding, a family, a future. Those dreams and hopes were blown away with two bullets from a .45 caliber pistol.

Her phone buzzed against the black Formica counter top as she downed the pills dry.  The display flashed Kay’s name on the screen.

“Hey, Kay.” Dillan said flatly as she walked across the apartment to her bedroom.

“You are still coming, right?” She figured Kay would be checking on her. She was notorious for cancellations lately.

“Yes, I was just about to leave.” Dillan lied, rifling through a basket of laundry and digging out a faded DropKick Murphy’s t-shirt.

“Oh good. I was worried you would bail on me.” Kay sighed.

“No worries, I’m heading your way now.” Dillan managed to pull on a pair of dark boot-cut jeans as she held the phone against her shoulder.

“Great, I’ll have a beer waiting for you when you get here.”

That pleased Dillan.

At least something could.

She hung up, shoving her phone into her pocket before slipping on a pair of black Doc Marten’s.  Casual dress. She was heading to the pub after all. Finley’s- good beer and good music. It was a favored hangout for the college students and grads that still lived in town. Dillan had been going there for years. But she hadn’t been there in the last year.

As Dillan made her way to the door she slipped on an over-sized black leather jacket. It had been Jamie’s. The arms were just a little too long, but she always wore it whenever she rode. Before exiting the apartment, she scooped up her black messenger bag and her motorcycle helmet, then trotted down the three flights of stairs to the parking garage.

Dillan reached the last landing and approached the glass doors that led to the parking garage behind her building, thumbing through her keys until she found the one for Jamie’s motorcycle. It was nothing special, just a beaten up plum-colored Honda Shadow. But Dillan had spent so many nights out riding on the back of it with her arms tightly wound around Jamie’s waist. After his death, Dillan found herself riding it more, as if he was still there riding with her.

Pushing her hair back over her shoulders, Dillan slid her helmet on as her legs straddled the bike.
Here goes nothing
. She still had her reservations about going out, but Kay was waiting for her. Despite her generally reclusive behavior over the last year, she knew it was better if she wasn’t alone. She knew she needed a distraction from the thoughts in her head. She didn’t want to think about him tonight.

The dormant rumbling as the bike idled beneath her caused every other lingering thought to dissipate. Dillan curled her fingers around the chrome handlebars before backing out of her parking spot and twisting the accelerator. The bike growled to life as she rode out into the street. Dillan could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as the wind hit her face and the thundering engine resonated through her body.

She was relaxed,
almost
happy.

Breathing the night air in a deep gulp, Dillan’s shoulders eased, releasing the tension of the day. The red light reflected off iridescent shimmers in small puddles on the damp street as she waited at the intersection. Dillan hadn’t even realized it had been raining today, as she was too lost in her own head to even peer out the window. Now, as she sat at the light she took in the dampness of the thick summer air and the gust of wind that rushed by with the moving traffic on the adjacent street.

Just as she could see the opposite street’s traffic lights turning yellow, a Greyhound Bus came across the intersection. Dillan had been watching the traffic with disinterest, to her it was just one large mass of unidentifiable vehicles blurring by. Then the large blue bus rolled past her, seeming to slow down temporarily, which set it apart from the rest of the vehicles. Dillan’s arms and back tingled; something pulled her attention towards the bus. She looked up at the bus windows as they rolled past, all the faces seeming to blur just like the traffic. Nameless, faceless people. None taking any notice of her.

Then her eyes locked with a familiar icy blue gaze staring at her from the back window, and as it registered just who they belonged to, the bus flew past the intersection and out of view. Dillan remained at the light, her mouth falling agape as her brain failed to make sense of what she had seen.

It was impossible, right?

That couldn’t have been Jamie.

Jamie is dead.

A horn blared behind her, jarring her out her trance. The bike lunged forward as Dillan over-accelerated against the wet road. It spun across the intersection, tossing her onto the sidewalk as the bike abruptly slammed against the curb, scraping the pavement. Several onlookers rushed over, hovering around her with horrified expressions.

Dillan, although rattled from the crash, pulled herself up. Her knuckles were fairly scraped up and there was a rip on the side of her jeans. All minimal damage. More embarrassed than hurt, Dillan tried to brush some of the gravel off of her wounds.  Blood rushed to her cheeks, her face growing hot as she drew the attention of both drivers and pedestrians. She hastily thanked the few that had actually helped her back to her feet, and pulled her bike back up, ignoring the concerned looks that were sent her way.

Dillan supposed she should just try to forget what she had seen and go to the pub. No sane person would believe it was really Jamie. But those eyes. She knew those eyes. They were Jamie’s. She wasn’t crazy. Emotionally unstable? Yes! But crazy? No. It had to be him. She knew what she had seen, and it had to be him.

She couldn’t sit there debating any longer, there was only one way to find out. With the loud roar of the bike’s engine, Dillan bolted across the intersection once more, zipping narrowly past several cars, dodging her way through traffic.  Her eyes searched frantically for the bus, but she had lost sight of it. Zooming past each block, her eyes darted in both directions hoping for a sign of its passing. A few cars honked their disapproval at her as she cut in front of them. Nearing the edge of downtown, her eyes fell on a blue sign with white lettering. The words “Bus Station” and an accompanying arrow pointing right gave her a glimmer of hope.

She hooked a right, her bike leaning dangerously low as she maneuvered the sharp turn. Dillan’s heartbeat hit heavy within her chest as the bus station came into view at the end of the street. All she could think about was seeing Jamie step off that bus, running to him and kissing him. All the pain she had been feeling over the last year would simply melt away. It was too late to think of how insane or how irrational a thought like that really was.

Only about a hundred feet away, she spotted the bus she had seen him riding. It had to be the same one. People were filing out of several other buses all at once. The station was crowded and chaotic as passengers arrived and departed. She stopped her bike next to the bus, looking up, but she did not see his face in the window any longer. Her stomach fluttered as her eyes, still filled with foolish hope, searched over the dozens and dozens of unfamiliar faces mixing into the mass of people.

 

Nowhere.

He was nowhere.

 

Dillan willed herself forward into the endless sea of travelers. Still searching, still hoping, as her short-lived fantasy crumbled at the edges. The butterflies in her stomach dissolved into a nauseating pain that stretched up her throat with the bitter taste of bile. She got as far as the ticket counter and still found no familiar face. No Jamie. But by that time, she knew she had been deluding herself.

Dillan had watched him die. She held him in her arms after the light had left his eyes. She stood at the bus station replaying the scene from a year ago in her head. She remembered the undertaker lowering his casket into the ground. At that moment, panic struck her. She had finally lost it. If the bus station had been silent, Dillan was sure someone might have heard the definitive snap that she thought she heard as her heart broke all over again. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision as she haphazardly pushed her way through the waiting passengers. She just wanted to get back to her bike and go back home. Her phone buzzed inside her pocket. She already knew it was Kay.

“I’m not coming.” Dillan said, choking back tears.

“Dillan, you promised you wouldn’t do this!” Her friend’s voice was filled with worry.

“I know, but I just can’t do this. Not tonight.” she whispered.

Dillan hung up the phone before Kay could object again. A guilt trip from her friend would only add to the pot of emotion brewing inside her. It took every ounce of Dillan’s self-control to not let it spill over in the middle of the bus station. Climbing onto her bike, she revved the accelerator, wanting nothing more than to get away from the damned bus station. To forget what she had just done, and how stupid she had just been. All that mattered to her now was curling up underneath her soft cotton bed sheets and forgetting that the rest of the world existed. Forget that he existed. She knew the latter was impossible.

As she pulled into her parking space, Dillan's phone began to buzz once again. She pulled it out, glancing down at the screen. Kay had now called at least six more times. With an exasperated sigh, she turned off her phone, roughly pushed the glass doors to her building open, and ran up the stairs to her apartment. They seemed to multiply in front of her as she held onto the railing. Her legs finally reached the last landing and she turned down the hallway toward her door. The closer she got, the harder it became to hold the pain back. Dillan could feel it trickling upward inside her, edging toward the top as she neared her door.

Breathe, just breathe.

As soon as her feet passed the doorway, the mask of composure she had been hiding behind shattered. She stared at the spot where he had once been. The spot where he had died. Sobs spilled out from deep within her chest as everything she had been feeling tonight finally broke through her former semblance of composure. Dillan cried out in frustration, flinging her cell phone across the room. She pressed her back against the door as her body slumped down to the hardwood, her shoulders heavy with defeat. They shook as the waves of tortured sobs escaped her. After several minutes, Dillan looked back up through tear-filled eyes. All she could see was herself, pleading with his limp form, begging him to return. Screaming for him to return, while the feel of his blood soaked  into her dress as she held his lifeless body. Her neighbors had heard the shots too.  They were the ones that had called the police. Ten minutes later, the police and ambulance had arrived, confirming then what Dillan had already known. Jamie was gone, pronounced dead at the scene.

It had taken three officers to pry her away from him. She cringed, remembering the foreign shrieks that had left her body as they dragged her out of the apartment. Dillan still couldn’t recall anything from the three days following his death, except Kay coming to pick her up from the hospital. She remembered Kay bursting into tears as soon as she had hugged Dillan. Dillan had just stood there, catatonic, fully detached from the world. So now a year later...did she feel any different? Any better? Any less fucked up?

No.

Dillan shakily pulled herself up off the floor, her chest still heaving, even though her sobs had quieted. She made her way to the kitchen, her hands trembling as she turned on the faucet. She gingerly stuck her hands under the warm water, bracing herself for the oncoming pain.

Dillan yelped as the water assaulted her raw flesh. She kicked the bottom cabinet, burying her face in her arms until the pain lessened. More tears escaped as she winced, attempting to wash out the pieces of gravel that were still lodged in the scrapes on her knuckles. She wrapped a dishcloth around her hand, then grabbed a beer from the fridge before heading to the bathroom to bandage her wound. As she returned the first-aid kit to its place in the medicine cabinet, she saw an extra bottle of her Xanax prescription sitting there.  Without hesitation, she dumped a few more tablets into her palm.

“Happy Anniversary Jamie.”

Her tone was cynical as she tossed the pills back with a large gulp of beer. Dillan would not be going to Finley’s tonight and she would not be answering any more phone calls. Staring at her sad reflection in the mirror, she took another swig, waiting for the numbness to wash over her body. Waiting for the world to fade away. As the memories from the year before swarmed around her, she wanted to feel nothing at all.

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Dillan had no idea what time it was. She stared listlessly up at the high ceiling, her eyes following the exposed air ducts. After sufficiently ensuring that she had shaken every last drop from the aluminum can in her hand, she let it tumble onto the floor next to the several others that already lay at her feet.

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