Dying to Forget (18 page)

It's not until I feel the connection break completely that I'm aware of my body parts again and the annoying and incredibly uncomfortable pinching sensation starts at my feet and quickly spreads up my body. I brush at my arms, even though I know there is nothing there. It's such a stark contrast to the feeling of peace that I had leaving Abby and immediately I feel drained. I crash back into my reality with so much emotional force that I almost start to cry. It doesn't help that it feels like ants the size of roaches are crawling all over my face. I remember that Niles said some people claim their transition feels like tickling. At this moment I want to find each and every one of those people…and punch them in the nose.

***

When I arrive back at the Station the first thing I feel is the cool floor under my naked feet and I tuck my toes in, pretending the ground is grass and that my toes are deep inside the moist soil of a Pennsylvania forest. For just a moment I let myself feel sad as I realize it's a sensation I won't ever experience again, at least not in my
own
body. I spend at least a full minute standing in the dark room allowing my imagination to take me to the woods of Erie. I drag my fingers up and down my arms to simulate the feeling of rough tree bark against my skin and imagine that I'm twenty, thirty, forty feet up in the air climbing a giant conifer.

When I open my eyes I see nothing but black. I'm not perched on the top of the highest tree in the woods, or walking barefoot through cool, damp grass. I'm standing in one of the Depot arrival rooms.
Who knew it was possible to miss trees so much?

I take a deep breath and step forward, knowing that the doorknob will find its way to my palm practically on its own and the moment my warm skin meets the cold metal the door slides effortlessly open. Light floods in around me from the hallway and there to greet me is Niles. I rush into his waiting arms and sigh deeply into his blue sweater vest.

He's patting me on the back and though I can't see his face, I know he's smiling. "I take it this case ended better than the last?"

I nod into his slightly squishy chest. "I did it. I helped her." I beam up at him.

"Yes, dear, you definitely did. How does it feel?" He asks.

"Amazing."

The wrinkles around his eyes deepen as his smile broadens. "That's how it's supposed to feel. If you do it right." He winks at me and points to Abby's card that is in the portal slot I used for Sloan. "Don't forget that."

I cross the room in three strides and pull the slate gray card from the wall. I tenderly hug the thick glass to my chest, this is all that is left of Abby after-all.

***

We leave the Depot room in happy spirits and enter the long hallway that leads to the other side of the Consignment Department. Niles walks beside me in the hall as we weave around a handful of others. He's listening to the highlights of Abby's case with interest until he notices Carlson bounding toward us with his metal clipboard clutched tightly to his thin chest, as usual.

"Is everything okay, Carlson?" Niles asks him.

"Yes, yes. But I need to speak with you Abbot," he pauses to clear his throat and sends a nervous glance in my direction.
I just got back, surely I couldn't have done something wrong, could I?
"It's um, it's about her."

"Piper?" Niles seems just as surprised as me.
I
have
done something.

Carlson bobs his head up and down and looks at me again with an almost pained expression on his face.
Wow, this must be bad.

"I'll be right back, Piper. Okay?" Niles tries to smile at me, but it doesn't do much good. I can't speak so I just nod my head and watch them walk down the hall together, disappearing into one of the small rooms.
Oh crap. What's happened now?!

***

I stand awkwardly in the hallway holding Abby's glass card to my chest like it's a life raft. I feel like I'm floating alone in the sea and every time someone walks past me and bumps into my arm or shoulder the sensation startles my body and my insides rise up and down, like waves from an ocean storm.

I'm pretty sure I've made myself sea-sick by the time Niles and Carlson exit the small room and I almost puke on my feet when I see that his face is set into a worried frown. I've spent however long it was that he was in the next room running through everything I did with Abby. I followed ALL the rules, more so with her than I did with Sloan. I'm confident that I haven't done anything too awful to involve Niles.
So what's going on?!

"Piper," he says my name softly.

I nod, waiting for my banishment or public humiliation to come. Niles simply takes my hand and pulls me next to him. We begin walking back down the hall, toward the room he and Carlson spoke in and suddenly I panic.

"No, wait."

I stop hard enough that the soles of my bare-feet squeak loudly as they skid on the smooth, cold surface of the Consignment Department floor. Niles stares at me, waiting for an explanation.

"Who's in there? Am I in trouble?" My voice is strained to a point that even I don't recognize it.

"It's nothing like that, dear. But I need you to come with me. Please?" He holds his hand out and I count slowly to ten before placing my fingers onto his outstretched palm. Forget shaky hands, my entire body is trembling. I've just begun to follow him when Carlson rushes at us, muttering.

"Crap. Crap." Carlson nearly drops his clipboard at his feet as he attempts to hurry down the hall.

Niles glances over my shoulder to follow Carlson's gaze and freezes in place, his mouth agape, his hand gripped tightly around mine.

"Niles? Are you okay?" I ask, afraid of the shocked look on his face. Slowly I tug my fingers from his grasp and shift slightly as Niles continues to stare at something behind me.

Suddenly I bump shoulders with a taller man as he rushes by my left side and I'm spun in a half circle by the force. I hear him mutter an apology just as he passes me but his attention is set on Carlson.

Niles is staring at the man, a look of concern on his face before he glimpses down at me briefly. I glance back in Carlson's direction, not understanding at all what is happening. He's now talking to the tall man that collided with me in the busy hallway. I see nothing extraordinary about him, other than the fact that he must be a New Arrival since he's holding the single sheet of Station Guidelines from Orientation carefully in one hand. His six-foot build towers over the fragile looking Carlson but he still seems small in the hallway. After Carlson speaks to him, the tall man straightens and begins scanning the busy hallway looking for someone. He raises a toned arm up to push his hair off his forehead as he turns in my direction and I catch a peek of something green beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

My entire body goes weak and my fingers release their tight hold on Abby's card as our eyes meet. The glass slides down the front of my baggy shirt and hits the hard floor with a sickening sound as it shatters loudly around my feet. I don't notice it. But everyone else does, including Niles, who gasps beside me. All eyes turn to face me; the girl that just destroyed a precious and irreplaceable Assignment card, but I focus only on the man standing ten feet away.

Carlson gapes at me in horror. He clutches his metal clipboard to his chest and shakes his head disapprovingly at me. But I'm not looking at him. I can't tear my eyes away from the shocked man by his side. Carlson quickly grumbles something to the New Arrival. I watch as he leans down to hear what Carlson has to say and a familiar set of dark curls drop over his forehead.
No, no, no, NO, NO!

Everyone is still staring at me. Niles is kneeling on the ground, sweeping some of the glass shards into his hand but I don't care. I don't care that Abby's case is lost forever, because
he
is here.

Sloan is at the Station.

The End of Book One

Before I begin to thank the people that helped make this book possible, I'd like to take a moment to bring up the subject matter in this story that may have been intense for some readers. To start, I'd like to say that this book is not meant to glorify suicide in
any way
. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please contact your health care professional or another person you trust to talk to TODAY. If you are considering harming yourself in
any way
, there are people and professionals that can help you. You are not alone. Ever.

If you or someone you know has been the victim of sexual violence, you can find help here on
http://www.rainn.org/
or you can call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE. Again, you are not alone.

This book would not have been possible without the ongoing support of family and friends. So now I'd like to take the time to thank you all personally!

Shane, Rory and Foxx - you give me encouragement and hope. This book, the one before and anything in the future would not be possible without your daily support and love. Thank you for being patient and for the hugs.

To my extended family: Mom, I love you, I am who I am because of you. Thank you for everything! Teresa…you aren't here today but I hope wherever you are, you know how much you have meant to me over the years and how much you meant to me while I was writing this book. You were my personal cheerleader and I miss you every day. I'll never forget your laugh. Mom, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins - last year was a tough one for all of us but we made it through - love you all. Grandma Dawson, you are an amazing woman. I love you and I hope I've made you proud. To my wonderful in-laws - Rick and Lynda…Shane and I would not be where we are today without your ongoing support and love, thank you.

To my good friends: Debbie Rogers, Irene Aranda, Kerry Bigelow, Steph Perry-Aguirre, Hector Aguirre, Gladys Selfridge, Sean Selfridge, Jennifer Peterson, Patty Calles, Jessica Garner and Melinda Lenard…I love you all equally, thank you for your friendship and for listening to my writing rants and raves.

Thank you to my Editing Team: Jennifer Peterson and Tracy Clark - thank you so much for your help and dedication!

The Cover Art for this book was done by the amazing Debbie Rogers - thank you friend!

Thank you Book Club ladies for keeping me reading even though I'm busy writing! A thank you has to go out to my new friends on Facebook & Twitter. You all KNOW who you are but I have to give a special shout out to the ladies that make me laugh…
every day
. My fellow writer friends: Miranda Stork, Karli Rush and Tara Wood. The Man Candy has kept me going. Truth.

For the very special people who have read this book and might have read the first one - THANK YOU ALL. This is for you guys. HUGS!

Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She's been writing short stories and poetry since high school and began her first book, 'I Hope You Find Me' in December of 2011.

When Trish isn't writing, she's homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly Autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights and dashes into the backyard weekly to rescue lizards and mice from Zoey, the dog.

Trish's Other Books:

I HOPE YOU FIND ME

You Can Follow Trish Here:

Twitter at:
https://twitter.com/Trish_Dawson

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https://www.facebook.com/WriterTrishMarieDawson

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http://writertrishmdawson.wordpress.com

Trish's Books can be found online in eBook form as well as in print through CreateSpace.