Crashing Back Down

26

In the morning, Cali and I woke up at the same time. We lazily cuddled in bed for awhile, talking about her game plan for when Kyle came home later on that day.

“But, what if he refuses to leave?” I knew it was an odd question but it had been bugging me. I pictured myself having to go over to her house and beat up a freaking cop so he would leave my best friend alone.

“He’ll leave. Once he knows, I’m sure it will be a relief for him to be rid of me and the burden.” She punched her pillow a few times, exaggeratedly groaning. “I’m going to head home and get his shit packed up so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

I offered to go and help, but she declined, claiming that it was going to be her therapy session and needed to break things and cry alone. I understood, and knew that if it got rough or if she needed me, she would call this time; I made her promise.

After Cali left, I sulked around the house for a while until my boredom took total control in Walker’s absence. Waking up without him on a Sunday morning used to be my only option. But I had become accustomed to having company, and warmth was starting to fill the emptiness again. I got out of my pajamas and made a little breakfast, deciding to clean the house up a bit.

Since Walker really didn’t use his room anymore, I started in there and began to make it back into the guest room it used to be. I got the vacuum out of the hall closet and dragged it into the room. I collected all of Walker’s clothes out of the drawers and closet, and made room for them in mine, stripped the bed, put new sheets on and then began to vacuum. After passing the vacuum a few times under the bed, I felt it hit something light.

I got down onto the floor and found a journal with Walker’s name engraved in the leather on the front. I sat on the freshly made bed, trying to convince myself to be respectful of Walker’s privacy.

My concentration was broken when my cell vibrated in my pocket. There was a text from Walker shining on the screen:

Sorry I haven’t been in touch, no service. We’ll be home in about four hours, maybe a little more. Can’t wait to see you too!

I wrote a quick message back:

OK see you soon, drive safe

When my screen went black, I went against my better judgment and let curiosity get the better of me. I flipped the front cover open and read the date on the top of the first passage, realizing that Walker started it the day he and Randy got deployed. My heart started pounding and I skimmed through the pages until I found the day Randy died. Terror came over me as I read the passage of a story I was never supposed to read:

Today the biggest mistake happened and I don’t know how I am fucking going to live with it. The plan completely went to hell. I am the one that was supposed to fucking be dead, not him. Randy and Mags were supposed to live happily ever after with me out of the picture, not seeing it any more. But now I am here stuck in this torturous hell of guilt, longing and shame. How will I ever look into her eyes again? She loves him, not me and that’s how it was supposed to be. Fuck! Why did he have to grab my chute?

Once I finished reading the entry, I froze. And then puked right where I stood as what had just been revealed ripped through my heart. I fell onto all fours, sobbing and shaking. I grabbed my phone off the bed to see what time it was, realizing Walker would be home soon. I rallied all of my strength and forced myself to stand. Suddenly, adrenalin kicked me hard, forcing me into a fight or flight mode.

I flew down the stairs and started to rip the daisies apart, tearing through them, screaming and crying. I kicked the vases everywhere, letting the glass fly, crashing and shattering. Water and flower petals flowed around my tile floor in the kitchen and I fell to my knees feeling the sharp shards piercing my skin and watched as little wisps of crimson ran away from my body in the water.

I knelt there, sobbing onto the cover of the journal, still clenched in my fist when my phone vibrated again with another text:

Be home in five.

Panic started rising up through my whole body. What am I going to do? Who do I call? I ran to my room and dialed Cali’s number. “Hi, Mags! How’re you?”

Her voice stung my ears, making me choke out the only words I can. “Walker killed Randy. It was an accident, but it’s his fucking fault. Walker will be home any minute.” Without another word I hung up on Cali, not knowing what else to tell her.

I tried to stay calm. I sat on my bed, the journal in one hand, trembling, still wet and bloody from the floor of my kitchen. I hid my cell under my mattress. I wanted to be able to get to it if I had to. My mind flashed to Randy’s sweet face and then to Walker’s. I could not even start to wrap my head around what I had just discovered. There is no way that Walker could have done that. He loved Randy just as much as I did. They were like brothers. How does this happen?

The pain was sharp in my stomach. The words of the passage ran through my mind over and over and it all clicked. Walker wanted to be with me, but knew I loved Randy, not him. Walker did it because he couldn’t be with me and couldn’t live without me. Walker tampered with his own parachute, but Randy got it by mistake. And it is my fault entirely.

With these thoughts washing over me, I had to run to the bathroom. Everything was far too overwhelming for my body, and my stomach emptied completely. Right after I flushed the toilet, I heard the front door slam and Walker bounding up the stairs, calling up to me, but I couldn’t answer. I could hear him asking if I was OK and wondering what happened downstairs. I was frozen in the middle of my room, rage boiling, with the journal still glued in my grasp.

I stood breathing shallowly; looking around at the space I used to share with Randy. It felt tainted now. I was shaking and could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My skin was burning. Walker got to my door and with a quick knock, opened it. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw my hand clutched around his memoirs.

Walker’s glare raked me with freezing contempt and I froze, gaping at the man I thought I was falling in love with, the reality barely grazing the surface of my skin. I couldn’t let myself believe Walker living was the reason for Randy’s death. That this man standing in front of me, who had been living with me, comforting me, loving me, had been the culprit all along. Blistering hot rage coursed up from my belly. The more my mind thought, the more I wanted to kill him.

He took a step towards me, eyes wide with terror, a kind of fear I had never seen on his face. “Mags, I can explain. It was all a mistake.” He took another step so I moved back, our eyes still fixed on each other. “Margret, when it happened I knew my new mission in life was to take care of you, Jim and Liz. It’s my fault he’s dead so I had to do what’s right.”

I heard the words that were coming out of his mouth, but they were not registering, they just nipped at my ears. How dare he even think that he was doing the right thing. He was sick and messed up and I hated him. I swallowed and glowered, “I fucking hate you, you damn murderer!”

And with my words Walker’s eyes became black and cold. His expression got shallow. His body grew rigid, every muscle flexed and hardened. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to know what he knew, what he did, what Randy’s last moments were like. I was standing toe to toe with the reason for all of my pain, the selfish choice that destroyed my entire world. The realization hit me, smacking me awake and I reacted.

I lunged forward and jumped on Walker, hitting, screaming, and scratching. He wouldn’t hit me back, even though I was screaming at him to; calling him a pussy, a coward, a filthy murderer. He just blocked my fists from his face, trying to grab me, trying to restrain me but I was too quick for his tired body. He started to beg me to stop, to let him explain; pleading, pathetic. We wrestled on the floor for what felt like hours. I could feel his strong arms wrapping around me as I continued to scratch and squirm. When any part of his body got close enough, I bit down as hard as I could, breaking open his skin. His hand came close to my face and I grabbed it in between my teeth; he smacked me so hard with his free hand that I became dizzy. I could feel the hot liquid flowing between my injuries and his.

I could feel my chest start heaving; it was hard so to breathe. My lungs were gasping for air. Walker scrambled off me and started to beg for me to takes lower breaths, to calm down. I became light-headed as he scooped me up into his arms from the floor, my eyes barely able to stay focused. My eyelids got heavier; I could feel my lungs aching for air even more and my throat started gasping. I could hear Walker’s voice trembling as he carried me through the house. “Mags, please stay with me, you’re having a panic attack. Please, Mags.” Tears rolled down his cheeks and landed on my face as he sobbed, rushing out the front door. “I’m so sorry, babe, I love you. You’re my true north. Please …”

Dying was never a fear of mine, at least not after Randy did. If I died, then at least I would be with him again and I assumed that was my fate now. I could feel Walker picking up my body and carrying me, but I couldn’t fight, scream or resist.

Right as my body started to get completely limp and my mind started to go black, I heard Walker pleading and crying more. “Mags, please stay with me. I love you. I can’t lose you too. Mags. Please.”

I heard a loud bang and I assumed it was my neck breaking under Walker’s force, but there was no pain. In that instant, the pressure I had felt from Walker holding me vanished. My mind was slipping in and out. Finally, my nightmare was over and everything went black.