“It’s okay.” I don’t even try to fake my annoyance at it.
“You don’t like it?” she asks, looking sad again. It’s the same dance we’ve done after each dress I have tried on.
“I like the first one,” I tell her again for the eleventh time.
“You know, I think you’re right,” she says and I can feel my temper slowly rising. Of course I’m right. “Let's try that one on again.” She smiles up at me as she takes a sip of her coffee that the sales person fetched for her. I wasn’t allowed coffee since I’m the one trying the merchandise on.
I’m going to strangle someone soon.
“Sure,” I reply, pasting on my fake maid-of-honor smile, and march my ass back into the changing room to try on the first dress I tried on an hour ago.
“You know, I think the color is all wrong,” she calls through the curtain.
“The color is fine,” I say, stepping out of the dress, and hanging it back up. Handing it out to the shop assistant, I patiently wait for her to bring me back the first dress I tried on. Looking in the mirror, I take the time to look at myself. The harshness of the changing room lights are in full effect. Thinking back to Sy’s comment about my weight loss, I wonder how much my body has changed. The purple, four-inch scar left behind by the bullet, and the two surgeries to save my life has a long way to go before I can accept it. It’s not the ugliness of it that affects me. I know with time the scar will be faint and won’t mock me. No, now it’s just a harsh reminder of what I lost, what was horribly taken from me.
“You okay in there?” Kadence pulls me out of my thoughts and back into the ugliness of my reality.
“Yeah,” I wheeze out, not realizing that I was captive in a memory and had pushed myself into a small panic attack. At least it wasn’t a huge one.
“Holly, are you sure?” Kadence’s panicked voice asks again, but I can’t focus on her as the all-too-familiar feeling of panic claws up my back. The fear, the pain, all spiraling me out of control. Dropping to the floor, I lift my knees up and bring my head between my legs.
Just breathe through it, Holly. You can do this, I repeat over and over, trying to calm my panic.
“I’m coming in.” I hear her words, but they don’t register in my mind, falling short at the wall of anxiety currently building inside of me.
Memories and sounds coming at me only keep pushing me deeper into the ugliness of that night. The ugliness of what we experienced.
“Focus on my voice, Holly,” she says, kneeling down next to me. “You’re safe here,” she reassures me carefully. And while I know I’m not going to die, there is no controlling the feeling of fear and loss of control. We sit like this for a few more minutes; it could be longer. I don’t know. When I do eventually come back to the dressing room, I feel drained and ready to leave.
“Hey,” Kadence says, reaching out to touch my arm.
“Oh, my God,” I finally acknowledge her. “I’m sorry,” I whisper when she leans forward and embraces me.
“No, I am.” She squeezes me tighter. “You scared me,” she admits, pulling back and wiping her tears away.
“It just came on. I haven’t had one in the last few weeks,” I admit, wondering what the hell just happened.
“It’s okay,” she shushes me, not having any part of my apologies. I don’t know what I’m sorry for; the whole thing is embarrassing.
“Is everything okay in there?” the shop assistant queries through the curtain.
“We’re good,” Kadence calls back and I realize I’m sitting in my underwear on the floor of the changing room with my best friend. I let out a small giggle at how ridiculous we must look, followed by another and before I know it, I’m laughing. I don’t know if I’m laughing at the fact that it’s funny, or if laughing helps stop the tears. Whatever the reason, I continue and pray I don’t stop.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sy
“Catch me.”
“Keira?” I call when I hear her high-pitched laugh echoing through the field.
“Daddy, you came,” she replies, laughing off into the distance.
“Come back.” I reach out, but I can’t see her, only hear her.
“Catch me,” she whispers again, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her.
“Look at that sunset, Daddy,” she laughs again, the breeze carrying the sweet sound farther and farther away from me.
“Keira,” I yell out again, desperate to find her, to touch her, to see her.
“Bye, Daddy,” she murmurs, only this time, I see her. She stands silhouetted against all the colors of the universe as the afternoon sun sets.
“Wait, Keira!”
My pleading pulls me from my sleep. Fuck, not again.
Reaching over to my nightstand, I pull a photograph of Keira, out of my wallet. One of the only ones I allow myself to have. Her small head, bald from treatment, shines under the brightness of the hospital lights. Fuck, I miss her.
Reaching back over, I take out the second photo of a time when I was happy. Katie and Keira both stare back at me, laughing at something I had said. Life back then was worlds different to the one I live now.
Placing my most prized possessions back safely in their place, I climb out of bed and make my way up to the clubhouse. No point in trying to go back to sleep now, especially after that nightmare.
“Yo Sy, you’re up early,” Jesse calls from the sofa as I walk into the main room.