NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

we
were banned from turning the television on for weeks, just in case the news
carried coverage.   You’d think it
would be maddening, but at the time, I was so immersed in grieving that I almost
didn’t notice.  
    The problem is, it didn’t stop the guilt.   
    Because
I killed people.  
    Staring down the side of this mountain,
looking at the gouges carved into the trees from the metal of the crashed cars,
the destruction of the forest…it’s all evidence.   Whoever mom hit is dead. That’s
apparent.  
    And that’s my fault.   I killed them just like I killed
her.  
    The only real question is, how many were
in the car?   Was it one person?   A couple?   An entire family?
    “Do you think there were kids involved?”
I ask quietly.   Because the thought
of that… God. It’s unbearable.   I picture scared little kids strapped
into car seats, covered in blood and terror.   I squeeze my eyes closed to block out
the imagined sight.  
    “I don’t know,” Finn answers, his voice just as quiet.   “We could find out, if you want. We could look up the newspaper
articles.   If you think knowing
would be better than not knowing.”
    I think on that for a minute, because
it’s tempting, so tempting.   Then I shake my head.  
    “If dad won’t tell us, then it’s bad,” I
decide.   “That means that I’m better
off not knowing.”
    Finn nods and stares wordlessly out over
the trees.
    Finally he speaks.   “But what was a car doing on this
mountain?    We’re the only ones
who live here.   No one else has any
reason for being here that late at night.   The Home was closed.”
    It’s a question I’ve wondered about ever
since it happened.   Mom was rounding
the curve in the middle of the lane because she wasn’t expecting anyone to be
there.  
    But someone was.  
    And they’d hit each other head on.  
    “I don’t know,” I reply and my chest
feels like ice, like my sternum will freeze and shatter.   “Maybe they were lost.”
    Finn nods because that’s a possibility,
and the only one that makes sense, before he grabs my hand and holds it tight.
    “It’s not your fault.”
    His words are simple , his tone is solemn .  
    A lump forms, sticking halfway in my
throat, in a limbo area, where it can neither be swallowed or cleared.  
    “It is .”   My words are just as simple.   “Why aren’t you mad at me for it?”
    When Finn finally looks at me, his eyes
are tortured, and blue as the sky.
    “Because it can’t be undone.   Because you’re the
most important person to me.   That’s why.”
    I nod because now I know the truth.   He’s not mad at me because he thinks I’m
not at fault.   It’s clear that I
am.   He’s not mad at me because I’m
all he has, because I’m a part of him.   
    “We’ve got to go.   I’m going to be late.”
      I nod in agreement and we back away from
the edge. With a last glance at the sad ravine, we climb back into the car,
damp with the drizzle and our tears, and drive silently to the hospital.  
    When we’re inside, Finn turns to me
before he slips into his room.  
    “There is a grief group.   You
should check it out.”
    “Now you sound like dad,” I tell him
impatiently.   “I don’t need to talk
to them. I have you. No one understands like you.”
    He nods, because no one understands like him.   And then he disappears into the place
where he draws his strength, around people who suffer just like him.  
    I try not to feel inadequate that they
can help him in ways that I can’t.  
    Instead, I curl up on my bench beneath
the abstract bird.   I pop ear-buds
in my ears and close my eyes.   I
forgot my book today, so disappearing into music will have to do.  
    I concentrate on feeling the music rather
than hearing it. I feel the vibration , I feel the words .   I feel the beat.   I feel the
voices.   I feel the emotion.  
    Someone else’s emotion other than my own
is always a good thing.   
    The minutes