Page 141 of Eleanor & Grey
“OK, thank you,” I said, hurrying down the steps.
“And Grey?” she called after me.
“Yeah?”
“Breathe.”
* * *
I know she said breathe, but I hadn’t taken a breath since I took off toward the cemetery. My thoughts were surrounded by fears. My throat was tight, and it took everything inside of me to keep from falling apart right then and there.
The past kept flashing in my thoughts, memories pushing to the forefront of my mind.
I forced myself to stand, and I checked on Lorelai. Even though she cried, she seemed OK. Then I went to find her sister. I hurried through the blinding rain in search of my daughter. “Karla!” I called once, twice, a million times. There was no reply, nothing to be heard. The thoughts that raced through my head were unwelcome, and I had to do everything to keep from falling apart.
“No,” I muttered to myself. “She’s fine. She’s OK. She’s OK,” I kept repeating over and over again. She was OK.
She had to be OK, because if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t know what I’d do.
My eyes blurred over, but I blinked away my emotions. I wouldn’t shed a tear until she was with me. I wouldn’t fall apart before I knew she was all right.
I parked the car and rushed through the cemetery.
The closer I grew, the more worried I became.
There was a small figure lying still in front of Nicole’s tombstone. My heart ached as I moved faster, dashing through the space, praying to God for her to be OK. But she looked so still, so small...
When I turned to my right, I saw her. A small figure laid out in front of two trees. She looked so small and still.
So very still.
The stillness is what scared me the most.
“Karla,” I called out, “Karla!” I cried.
The moment her body moved, a breath of relief hit me. I kept dashing, faster and faster, running to get her.
“Dad?” she asked, turning to face me.
I collapsed to the ground the moment I reached her, pulling her closer to me, holding her so close that I could hear her heartbeats. So close that I was certain there was no way we could get closer.
“What are you doing here?” she cried, pulling away from me. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and I touched my hands against her face. I felt every inch of her head. I touched every inch of her, making sure she was OK.
“Kar...” I couldn’t speak the moment I felt her pocket. I went to reach into it, and my heart split in half as I pulled out a bottle of her prescription pills and stared at them in my hand. Then I looked to Karla.
Her body began to shake.
Her lips trembled.
My heart shattered.
“What are you doing with these, Karla?” I asked, my voice low, so low she couldn’t hear the fear feeding on my soul.
“Dad...”
“Karla. What were you going to do with these pills?” I asked again.
Her eyes welled up, and a flood of emotions spilled out of her as she began sobbing uncontrollably into the palms of her hands. “I hate this!” she hollered. “I hate all of this. I hate being me. I hate being alone. I hate how much I miss Mom. I hate how hard everything is. I hate myself so much, Dad. I hate this world. I wasn’t going to do it, though, Dad. I promise, I wasn’t. I just...” Her words became so jumbled up, and every piece of me shattered as I watched my daughter fall apart. “I’m tired, Dad. I’m tired.”
