Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“I’m doing good.”
“You don’t sound good, you sound sad. Is everything okay?” Of course, my mom can read me, even over the phone. Must be some motherly instinct or some shit.
“I’m sorry about acting like a total ass last weekend. Kennedy ran off because of it. Like left school and hid out in a hotel.” I mean, that’s not the complete reason, but I’m not telling her everything. Some things my mother doesn’t need to know.
“Oh, Jackson, I know you’re still hurting, but it wasn’t Kennedy’s fault. It was an accident. Yes, Kennedy made a stupid choice, but she was so young, and people make a lot of mistakes when they are young. I know in my heart, she would never hurt anyone on purpose, least of all her best friend. She loved Jillian, probably as much as you did.”
Damnit. There isn’t any denying what she says. Jillian and Kennedy were connected at the hip. They loved each other as much as any sisters could. I know it because I was afraid that if I ever made a move on Kennedy, it might ruin her relationship with my sister, and I couldn’t risk that.
“I know, but it’s so hard to let that go. It’s so hard not to blame her when if she had just waited for me, things might have been different.”
“You’re right, things might’ve been different, or they might not. Your sister could’ve got in a car accident later on, anything could’ve happened. It’s important to remember that tomorrow is never promised. Your sister’s death opened our eyes to that, and I wish it would open your eyes too.” I kinda sorta hate how right she sounds right now.
“I just… I feel like if I let it go, if I start to forgive, to move on…” my throat tightens, “I feel like I’ll forget her. If I don’t remind myself every day, then I’ll forget her…”
“You’ll never forget her. She’s your twin, a piece of her lives inside of you, and we both know she would be angry as hell to see you and Kennedy suffering because of her.” A smile tugs at my lips as I picture my sister staring me down, her hands on her hips. “I promise, it’s the only way to move forward. It’s time for you to start living your life without carrying around all that pain, all of the time. It doesn’t have to be this way, Jackson.”
She’s right, she’s so right, but I’m not sure if I can forgive and forget so easily. It still feels like she died yesterday. I can start to try though.
“Okay, I’ll try, Mom.”
“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.” I can see her smile in my mind, and I know she is happy about this. Happy that I’m taking the first steps of learning how to deal with Jillian’s death. “Why don’t you come home to visit next month?”
“Sure, why not. I’ll look at some dates and call you in a few days.”
“Great!”
“One more question… did you get Kennedy’s cell number while you were here?”
“Yes, why?”
“Can you send it to me? I want to talk to her.”
“Sure, I’ll send it right over. Please, be kind to her, Son. She blames herself enough, and even though you don’t want to believe it, she lost Jillian too.”
“I know, Mom.”
We say our I love yous and then hang up. Part of me feels the phone call was what I needed. I’m terrified of what will happen next, but this has to happen eventually. Being angry and bitter every day is killing me on the inside. Destroying the best parts of me. Jillian would kill me if she was here right now and saw the way I’ve been acting.
My thoughts of Kennedy swirl, and I wonder how I’m going to approach this with her. She’s my trigger in the big mess of things. Scrolling through my phone, I open my mom’s text and save Kennedy’s contact info. I’m tempted to go over to her place, but then I’ll want to fuck her, and I won’t get to say what I want. Plus, I’m not sure she is ready for sex yet, and I don’t want to push it. I’m going to do my best not to hurt her anymore. I don’t want to be the reason she continues to hurt herself.
So, I send her a text that says, hey.
Instantly, I get a reply.
K: Who is this?
I contemplate telling her that it’s Jackson, but I figure what I’m about to say is enough knowledge for her to get the hint.
Me: You can’t cut yourself anymore. If you do, I’m telling someone. I won’t let you hurt yourself anymore. Promise me you won’t.
I hit send before I can stop myself. I’m reaching that point where I want to just shut down and say fuck it, but this is part of moving on, and I can only deny that I care about her for so long. It’s time to face the music.