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I see the boy who was my one real friend back then — when our days were numbered and all we had was trust in each other to survive yet another day. He comes to me as I feel the familiar numbness try to take me, but this time it’s not managed by my own hands.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, you know?”
Is that how he felt when his numbness overtook him? when his last words — my name — were forcefully taken out of his mouth? forever shut because of my selfishness? sliced to pieces to satiate our hunger? Why does this boy come to me so gently, so calmly, when I am the one responsible for his death? and his brother's?
“I am not supposed to be here…”
I may have sacrificed myself for the girl that reminds me so much of this sweet boy, both with their big brown eyes and a heart capable of the forgiveness that I couldn't lend to myself, but I don't deserve to be here — yet. I have more to do, more to repent for, more to learn. I have people to protect, I have people to protect me…even now our story isn’t finished, chapters just keep being added and I need to be the one who puts an end to this hurt.
“We both know that's not true”
The boy is gone now, the one talking is a version of younger me unaffected by It. I never could lie to myself.
“This is exactly where we belong. We’ve been here for years.”
This plane, the place where all of us died, one way or another. I wished to have died on this plane or to never have set foot on it, but I was cursed to have never left it and made this place my home, memorizing the seats, walking its corridors, seeing life through its windows. It has always felt claustrophobic but i can feel this time is different, the seat is more constricting, the seat belts buckled too tightly. I can’t escape. I can’t fight It. I can’t breath.
“Natalie”
The prophet girl is here now. She has her hand placed on my heart, like she did out there. I didn’t like her ways to deal with It, but still followed her like the faith-full others back then. She was a friend. She was more than that, too.
“It’s not evil, just hungry, like us.”
Damn her and her calming voice.
“Just let It in.”
I can hold her hands now, unlike I did when we needed each other most. I trust her more than I trust myself in this moment, so I do as I’m told. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
It 's over.
I’m at the soccer field now. They’re all here with me. We’re seventeen and unafraid, ready for nationals. I can see coach Martinez on the sidelines talking to coach Ben about something. We are sitting, arranged in an open circle on half of the court while Travis and Javi play a 1x1 on the other half, waiting for their father. It’s a sunny spring day, we can hear the bugs fly by. The warmth feels nice.
“It wasn’t your fault”
Misty. still big eyed and preppy, like a dog. I’m not sure what she’s referring to, exactly. There is just so much weight to carry.
“The boy. It wasn’t your fault.”
Ah. That 's not true.
“I let him drown, Misty. I let him die so I could live”
It killed me too.
“I held you. You wanted to save him, I convinced you to live. It’s our fault, too”
She points to the whole group.
I guess that’s true. It was us all along.