Authors: J A Howell
However, as she lay there, Dillan’s lips curled into a smile, because she hadn’t missed. She had shot him right between the eyes. As she started to lose consciousness, this was her only comfort. Her world was quickly becoming blurry, but she fought to stay awake. Her eyes glanced over at Trey. In the darkness, she could see that his eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, as if he was only sleeping. Maybe she could finally find some rest too.
Dillan let go then, her eyes staring up at the willow tree that billowed above her. It danced in the shadows, lulling her down into the darkness as she finally let it overtake her
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dillan breathed a sigh of relief as her doctor and nurse left the room. Her doctor was about to submit discharge orders for her. Finally she would be free from this place. She couldn't stand hospitals, let alone staying in one for nearly a week. It left her with too much time to dwell on the events that had occurred. Though she did not want to think about what had happened, Dillan had been constantly grilled with questions regarding the shooting in the cemetery during the last several days. It was tiresome, and she did not want to keep repeating her story to people over and over. This made it impossible not to think about everything, not to replay that night in her head.
She had not seen or heard from Trey since that night. She only knew that he was still recovering. They had asked if she wanted to be taken to see him, but she found that she could not face him. Her head and her heart were still mixed up over everything that had happened. While Trey had in fact laid his life on the line to save hers, something she would forever be thankful for, it was his deception that caused her to be put into such a dire situation in the first place. He had still lied about who he was. He had still used her, and let her feel like the guilty one when in reality he was not being honest with her.
There was no denying that something could have eventually developed between them, but it was tainted with lies, no matter how she looked at it. Her heart ached...but for whom? She truly did not know anymore. The more that her mind tried to process these feelings, the more twisted and confused it felt. As the nurse walked back in with the discharge papers in hand, Dillan wondered whether or not she should stop and see Trey before leaving the hospital. In the end, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
At this point it was easier to not feel anything, and she knew if she walked into that room, then her feelings would only become more muddled. She would feel bad for him, and possibly want to forgive him. Right now, she just couldn't handle that. There was too much she needed to sort out. For now, simply knowing he was not dead would have to suffice.
Dillan took the clipboard from the nurse and scrawled her signature on the form after skimming through her discharge instructions. The nurse left for a moment and returned with her copy of the discharge papers, a pair of scrubs, and a wheelchair.
Unfortunately, her blood soaked clothes had been taken as evidence. These worn gray hospital scrubs would have to do for now. She went into the bathroom and carefully changed from the hospital gown to the murky colored scrubs. Dillan’s side was still tender from the bullet wound and a broken rib, her movements slow as she managed to get the top over her head with minimal pain flaring up. She looked at herself in the mirror with discontent. There was still purple and yellow bruising around one of her cheeks as well as a large cut above one of her eyebrows. Her hair looked dirty and flat, and she looked like she had not slept well in days. She hadn't. She was unsure as to whether or not she would be able to sleep when she returned to her apartment. Even with Carlos dead, the thought of staying there alone still frightened her. The vision of Carlos breaking through the door still replayed in her dreams, or rather, her nightmares.
Knowing she would probably be released today, Dillan had already called Kay to come stay the night, but at the same time she just wanted to be left alone. She didn't want to assure people that she was fine or endure any sympathy from her friend. She was not fine and hadn't been fine for quite a while now, but she was surviving. She did not want sympathy, because it would never change anything that had occurred over the last year. It would not take away the things Dillan had witnessed or felt.
With a shrug, Dillan looked away from her reflection as she turned on the faucet. She splashed her face with some cool water and slicked her hair back into a ponytail, fastening it with a rubber band. She was ready to leave. Dillan returned to the nurse who was waiting patiently behind the wheelchair she had brought for Dillan. She feigned a small smile before sitting down in the wheelchair, and the nurse wheeled her out of the room and down the hall toward the elevators. Dillan kept her eyes on the elevator doors at the end of the hall, anxious to get out of there.
“Your friend is right in this room, I thought you might want to see him before you leave.” The nurse suggested as she slowed down right outside Trey's hospital room. His room just happened to be only a few doors down the hallway from hers. Dillan wanted to scream at the nurse, but knew she could not have known any better. The nurse had not been witness to all that had occurred between her and Trey, and she couldn't have overheard Dillan's own quarrels with herself that had been going on in her head ever since she woke up in a hospital bed. Dillan kept her eyes forward, not daring to look into his room, the slow beeps of machines calling out at her. Her chest ached, only seeming to magnify the pain her body already felt.
“No, please just get me out of here.” Dillan barely managed to get out, holding her breath and biting her bottom lip as the discomfort grew. The nurse took her cue and without another word, wheeled her to the elevators. When the doors shut, Dillan watched the numbers descend, letting out a deep breath when the number one finally lit up.
As the nurse wheeled her outside the entrance of the hospital, Dillan felt a slight calm wash over her. She lifted herself out of the wheelchair carefully, and climbed into the waiting cab that the front desk had arranged for her. Dillan thanked the nurse and gave her a small wave before shutting the cab door, sighing in relief as it took her away.
“Sandstone Boulevard, please.” She instructed the driver before laying her head back on the seat. She was glad that this fiasco was finally drawing to a close. She was ready to move on and slowly forget that any of it ever happened. She needed to try to start over. As her building drew closer, she knew that starting over meant leaving their apartment as well. If she didn’t leave, this place would slowly become more and more of a prison with each day that passed.
This place had borne witness to all of her fears of forgetting Jamie, of trying to find life, and happiness, after his passing. It had been only the two of them for so long, she wasn't even sure she could let go and live again, but she had to try. She was not even thirty yet, she could not live the rest of her life in mourning and fear. There was far too much left of her life to allow it to be squandered that way.
Dillan closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sunlight shining through the glass onto her cheeks. She let her mind wander to Jamie, and to who she used to be. Her life used to be full of color, excitement, and passion. Now... everything felt mundane, nothing excited her, and her world felt as murky and bland as the old scrubs she was wearing. It still felt impossible that she could ever be that girl again, given everything that she had experienced in the last year. Death marrs even the toughest of hearts, but maybe she could find some new sort of happiness elsewhere. She was right at the edge of wanting to move on, but she was deeply afraid of taking that leap of faith required to do so. Dillan knew it was time, and she was just trying to figure out how to make that leap.
“We’re here ma'am.” The cab driver politely interrupted her thoughts as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Dillan nodded, paid the driver, and climbed out of the cab. She stared up at the building that seemed to tower over her menacingly. It had now become just another haunting reminder of the worst nights of her life. Dillan drew in a slow breath before heading toward the door. Kay was waiting for her on the front stoop.
Despite how antisocial Dillan had been in the past year, Kay was the one friend that kept trying to reach out to her, regardless of how many times Dillan blew her off or pushed her away. She could not understand why Kay still remained, but Dillan knew she had been taking her friend for granted. She had been so busy lost in the memory of Jamie, and mourning her loss to realize she had someone like Kay wanting to stick around. Someone like her that would stand by her throughout all of this. As Dillan climbed the steps to the door, Kay offered a sympathetic smile and gently hugged her, aware of her still healing wounds.
“It feels like it's been forever since I’ve seen you Dillan,” Kay sighed, a relieved smile crossing her lips as she pulled away. “I've missed you. And I’m so sorry about what happened to you at work.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Dillan smiled at her friend. As they entered the waiting elevator and the doors closed, Dillan silently reassured herself. Once they had reached her floor, she saw a bright new wooden door in the place of the one that was ruined on the night she was taken. The new door only continued to remind her of the one Carlos had broken through. Even the new deadbolt did not bring her comfort. He hadn't picked the lock to get in.
“It's over sweetie...they’re dead...remember that. It's going to be okay.” Kay reassured her, resting a hand on her shoulder, sensing the fear Dillan was giving off. Dillan willed herself forward and Kay pulled a key from her pocket, unlocking the door for her and holding it open.
As Dillan entered into the apartment, she saw that Kay had straightened it up for her. The apartment appeared abnormally tidy and seemingly untouched. As if nothing had ever happened. Her eyes fell to the spot where Jamie had died
. He was still there. That had still happened.
Regardless of any changes, a new door, new paint, or different furniture, the apartment would always be the place where Jamie was killed. But not every memory in this place was bad... it was also littered with many happy memories. She would take her time, basking in the good memories, but she would start making arrangements to get rid of this place.
“Are you still going to put the place up for sale?” Kay asked, as if reading her thoughts.
“Yes. Within the next week or so I think.” Dillan nodded. Kay had mentioned the idea to her in the hospital the other day, considering that now two horrible memories haunted the place. While she hadn't wanted to push it, Kay felt as though that was what Dillan should have done long ago. Kay didn't have to say anything else. They both knew that after everything that had happened, the time for Dillan to let the place go had finally come.
“You know, we can always stay at my place tonight.” Kay suggested as she watched Dillan's eyes search the room warily.
“I know,” she replied, with a sigh, “But I need to say goodbye. I still need some time to sort through everything here.” As much as Kay thought Dillan’s staying here was the last thing her friend needed, she knew better than to challenge her. Despite Dillan’s own opinions of herself and her own weakness, Kay stood in awe of her for everything she had endured.
“I need to go take a bath... and relax.” Dillan said quietly. She was pleased that despite her injuries, she was allowed that one luxury.
“I'll start something for dinner.” Kay volunteered cheerfully. “You go relax, you need it.” Kay turned toward the kitchen and Dillan started toward her bedroom. She paused again, just as she had outside the front door. The memory of her poorly aimed shots, as well as the ensuing rage from Carlos flooded back into her memory as she placed her hand on the door.
He's dead. You killed him,
she reminded herself. Still the irrational fear of him waiting behind the door was there.
It's okay Dillan, he's gone...it’s all over,
she told herself again. With the deepest breath she could muster with a broken rib, she pushed her bedroom door open, her eyes expertly sweeping the room for anything, or anyone.
Nothing
.
Her bedroom was like the rest of the apartment. Clean, tidy, and undisturbed. Traces of her struggle with Carlos were erased. The memory crept back into her head, but she quickly pushed them away. She was on a mission when she entered the room. She wanted a bath badly, and desperately. After spending days in the hospital all she wanted was to shampoo and condition her hair. It was currently a greasy mass on her head.
Bath, bath, bath
, she told herself, now unable to think of anything else. She went to her dresser and pulled open the middle drawer, grabbing a white cotton cami and some soft flannel pajama pants. She held them up to her face, breathing in the fresh citrus scent of her laundry detergent before turning back toward the door.
It was then that she realized not everything in her bedroom had gone undisturbed. The sun that peered through her white flowy curtains illuminated a bundle of letters that rested on her bedside table. Where
did those come from? They weren’t there before.
She cautiously stepped closer to them, as if they posed another threat, like a ticking time bomb on her nightstand.
She picked up the stack, eyeing them suspiciously. The letter on the top had no return address, no address at all. Just
"Dillan",
scrawled on the front of it. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, wondering if she should read it.
Curiosity got the better of her and she slid the envelope out from under the tan rubber bands that held the stack together. She paused as she slipped her finger under the envelope flap to rip it open, wondering still, if the contents of them would only serve to upset her. She bit her lip nervously, then continued to rip open the envelope. Before she could unfold the first letter, Kay was knocking on her door.