NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1) (28 page)

He whirls around and storms out, down the
stairs and out the door. I’m stunned for a minute
,
then I leap to my feet.
 
I can hear
Dare on my heels as I rush to follow my brother.
 

QUADRAGINTA

Finn

I fly over the trails, skidding up the path, with my sister
right behind me.
 
I don’t stop until
I reach the cliffs, because God, I have to end it.
 
I can’t do this anymore.
 
I can’t hide it.
 
She has to know She has to know She has
to know.
 

I can’t take it anymore.

She has to know.
 

“Finn!” Calla calls out. I turn
around slowly, and I can hardly stomach the look on Calla’s face.
 
She’s in so much pain, and I’m causing
it.

It’s me.

It’s me.

It’s me.
 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,
Cal,” I tell her quietly, every word hurting my heart. “I just can’t take it
anymore. The voices… they’re louder than my own.
 
They tell me to do things, and I can’t
tune them out.
 
I don’t want you to
hurt anymore.
 
And I don’t want me
to hurt. You’re a part of me and I’m a part of you and we shouldn’t have to
hurt.”

Calla freezes, her hand in the
air, because she hears the desperation in my voice.
 

 
“The secret is killing me, Cal,” I tell
her.
 
I sound desperate and weak and
pathetic.
 
“I can’t take it.
 
It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair
to me.”

“What is your secret, Finn?” she
asks slowly, careful not to approach me.
 
“Can you back away from the edge and tell me?”

I laugh, a hysterical sound,
like a deranged hyena.
 

I’m unhinged unhinged unhinged.

I’ve come unhinged.

“Aren’t you tired of talking me
off the edge?” I demand.
 
“Aren’t
you?
 
Aren’t you tired of balancing
on these cliffs and being afraid that we’ll tumble over the edge?
 
I know I am.
 
This isn’t life, Calla.
 
This isn’t living. Love is stronger than
death, Cal and this isn’t living.”

Her breath is loud, and I hear
Dare coming up behind her, but he takes her cue and doesn’t say a word.
 

“It i
s
living,” she says.
 
“It’s living because I love you. I’ll do anything for you. You’re part
of me, and I’m part of you and that’s the way it works. Please, God, please…
don’t do this, Finn. Don’t do this.”

She’s crying now, shivering in
the wind with her tears, but I feel lighter than I’ve felt in ages.
 
In weeks.
 
In months.
 

“It’ll all be ok, Calla,” I tell
her.
 
“It’ll be over soon.”

I smile and tilt my face toward
the sky.
 

The sun feels good on my
face.
 

Warmth = Life.
 

“No,” Calla cries out, lunging
toward me, but I step backward.

“Don’t move,” I tell her.
 
“Or I’ll do it right now.”

“Why are you doing this?” she
sobs, her blazing red hair whipping around her from the wind.
 
“Why, Finn?”

“Because things have to happen
in order,” I tell her, as calmly as I
can,
only it
sounds like I’m shouting.
  
“You weren’t moving in order, Calla.
 
I had to make you.
 
This is how I’m making you. My secret.
I’m helping you, you just don’t see it.”

“
What is your secret
?” she shrieks, tears falling onto her nose, her
mouth,
her
shirt. “Tell me and I’ll help you,
Finn.
 
Save me and I’ll save you,
remember?
 
Let me save you!”

She’s sobbing and I am too and I
can’t tell the difference between us anymore.
 

DoItDoItDoIt!
 
The voices chant.
 
JumpJumpJumpJump.
Show her show her show her.
 

“Shut up!” I shout, covering my
ears.
 
“I tried, Calla. I tried. But
I can’t do this anymore. Not even for you.”

I picture my list in my head,
because it’s the only thing that drowns out the voices. It’s a clean page without
mar or smudge. In my head, I carefully write the words,
then
cross them off because I’m about to complete my task.
 
Finally.
 
  

End it now.
 

“I love you,” I tell my
sister.
 
I step back.
 

“Nooooo!”

The harsh shout breaks through
my concentration and I pause on the edge, with the wind blowing through me,
because the voice wasn’t Calla’s.
 
It was
Dare
’s.

Confused, I look up to find Dare
standing exactly where Calla had just been.

Red hair blows around my shoulders while
my shoes balance on the edge.
 

Pink converses.
 

They
should be black.
 

“Calla, step away from the edge,” Dare
pleads.
 
“Please.”

Calla,
step away from the edge.

What
the hell?

I stare at Dare, balanced precariously,
as I try and sort through what is happening with jagged, phrenetic thoughts.
The pieces fly apart and whirl and come back together, forming partially
cohesive thoughts.
 
Through all of
it, though, one thing is clear.
  

Finn isn’t here.
 

I’m standing on the edge where Finn had
just been.
 
Panic and confusion
seize me, as I whirl about, hunting for my brother, but already knowing
something deep down.

I finally know Finn’s secret.
  

He’s not here.

He never was.

QUADRAGINTA
UNUS
 

Calla

I’m
panicked as I stare at Dare, disoriented and terrified, as the wind whips my
hair around my face.

No.
This isn’t right. This can’t be.

Images and memories and pictures flood my
mind with lightning speed, fitting together, pulling apart,
forming
a collage, then another and another.
 

Memories.
 

My life.
 

All of it.
 

I fight to find words, but I can’t and so
I start to sob instead, stepping away from the edge and sinking to the
ground.
 
Dare wraps his arms around
my shoulders, pulling me to safety.
 

“I’m crazy,” I hear myself cry, clinging
to Dare.
 
His voice is husky and
calm.
 

“You’re not,” he insists.
 
“You’re not.”

“Where’s Finn?” my voice is broken
because deep down, I know where Finn is.
 
I know it in my
heart,
I know it in my
soul.
 
I’ve been hiding it from
myself all along.
 

Dare remains quiet, his large hands
stroking my back, urging me to calm.
 

I
have to know.
 
I have to see.

Wrenching away from Dare, I leap to my
feet and take off for my house.
 
I
throw open the doors and bound through the dark house, taking the stairs two at
a time until I’m standing in front of Finn’s bedroom door.
 

I stare at the wood, at the grain, at the
indention, at the handle.
 
I don’t
want to open it because I know what I’ll find.
 

But I have to. I have to see it.
 

Reaching down, I turn the knob.
 

The door creaks open, revealing what my
heart knew I’d find.

An
empty room.
 

The bed is still there, neatly made.
 
Finn’s posters are still on the wall, of
Quid Quo Pro and the Cure.
 
His
black converses sit next to the door, like he’s going to wear them again, but
he’s not.
 
His dirty laundry is
still in his hamper.
 
His books line
the shelves.
 
His favorite pillow
waits for him, his CDs, his phone.
 
All of it.

But he’s not coming back.
 

Dare’s hand is on my back, comforting me.
I can’t feel anything.

I step inside and sit on the bed,
listening for my brother.
 

There’s not a sound.
 

I hug my knees, as wave after wave of
memory comes back.
 

My reality hasn’t been real.
 

“Finn died with my mom,” I say aloud, the
pain wracking my heart, my bones,
my
soul.
 
I see the images in my head, flitting
together to form scenes.
 

I watch him getting into his red
car.
 
The car we never shared
because we each had our own.
 

“He was going to a concert, Quid Pro Quo.
 
He started down the mountain and was on
his way when I called mom.
 
Mom crossed
the centerline on her way up the mountain.
 
She was hurrying because she was late and she hit him head-on as she
came around a curve.”

I
can’t take the pain.

It blinds me, deafens me,
turns
everything into a roar.
 

I
can’t hear.
 
I can’t see.
 

“She was going too fast,” I continue
lifelessly, my memories unrolling like a movie in my head.
 
“She was distracted because she was
talking to me on the phone.
 
I
killed my mom and my brother.
 
Finn
.
 
God.”

My head drops into my hands.
 

The pain is more than I ever thought it
would be, more than I ever thought I could bear.
 
Flashes of Finn rip through my mind… of
when we were small.
 
Of
when we played in the ocean.
 
Of Finn calling to me when we played
hide and seek, of Finn calling to me when he was scared.
 
And of that night, when he poked his
head into the salon before he left…the last time I’d seen him alive.
 

See
you later, Cal.
 
Are you sure you
don’t want to go?

“I didn’t go with him,” I whisper, the
words cutting a path along my throat.
 
“He was going with a friend from his Group and I didn’t go with
him.
 
Because I wanted… I wanted…you.”
 
 

I knew Dare back then.
 

I’ve known him for months and months.
 
This
can’t be happening.
 
What is
happening?
 
Am I crazy?
 
Have I lost it?

Dare holds me tight, letting me cry,
trying desperately to shield me from my pain.
 

He
can’t.

He
can’t shield me from the pain anymore.

“I wanted to stay at the funeral home so
that you could come meet me so we could be alone.”

My heart pounds, as I see glimpses of
Dare in my head.
 
His
smile, his face, his hands.
I stare at his hands now, the silver
ring.
 

“I gave that to you for Valentine’s Day,”
I remember.
 

He nods.
 

“You…me…we’ve been together for a while.
 
We were… that night… I let my brother go
to the concert alone because I wanted to be alone with you.”

God,
I’m a monster.
 

God,
I’m crazy.
 

I look at him.
 
“What’s been happening to me?”

I feel dazed, confused, lost.
 

Dare swallows. “Your mind has been trying
to protect itself. You’ve experienced an overwhelming loss.
 
You felt like you were at fault when you
weren’t.
 
It was more than you could
bear.
 
The day after they died, you
woke up and thought Finn was still here, in fact, there were times that you
thought
you were Finn
. The doctors
said you needed to come out of it on your own, that to try and bring you into
reality would hurt you.”

“So everyone went along with it,” I
realize in horror.
 
“I’m crazy.
 
I’m crazy and never even knew it.”

Dare’s dark eyes connect with mine. “No,
you’re not,” he says firmly, resolutely.
 
“You had a mental break because your reality was too hard to bear.
 
They called it PTSD and Disassociative Memory
Loss. You’re not crazy.”

“That’s why you couldn’t be with me,” I
realize slowly, putting the pieces together.
 
“Because I’m a lunatic and I didn’t
remember you. How in the world could I forget such a big piece of my life? I
don’t know why you stayed with me.
 
I’m so crazy.”

I’m crying again, or still, because maybe
I never stopped, and Dare
holds
me tight against his
chest.
 

“I love you, Calla.
 
You forgot me because you felt too
guilty to remember.
 
Because you
thought it was your fault.
 
Because
you thought you didn’t deserve to have something good.”

“Maybe I don’t,” I cry hotly, squeezing
my eyes closed, but when I do, all I see is my brother’s face.
 

“You do,” Dare says firmly. I open my
eyes and look at him.
 
“You love me,
Calla. And I love you.”

I remember the first time he said those
words to me, months ago, but the memories are hard to see.
 
They’re foggy and distant, like I’m
trying to pull them to me through murky water.
 
 

“I can’t remember everything,” I say in
frustration.
 
“My memories around
you are… there aren’t many.”

Dare nods.
 
“The doctors said
they’ll
come back in stages.
 
At first, I…
tried to stay away, but it was too hard, and you weren’t making any progress.
We decided that I’d re-enter your life as a stranger to see if it’d jog your
memory at all.”

I feel so foolish…
.so
crazy.
 

“You staged meeting me again for the
first time?
 
At the hospital?”

Dare stares at me, his eyes carefully
expressionless.
 
“Yeah.”

“That’s why it felt like I knew you,” I
realize slowly. “That’s why you felt familiar, why I felt pulled to you from
the very beginning.”
 
The déjà vu, the dreams.
 

“You have no idea how hard it’s been,” he
tells me.
 
“To pretend that I didn’t
know you.”

I gulp, because I can only imagine, and
because all of it, the whole elaborate thing, was my fault.
 
Then something else occurs to me,
something horrifying.

“The pecans,” I breathe, my eyes wide and
appalled. “Finn didn’t feed them to me.
 
I fed them to myself.
 
The
hospital… I wasn’t there to visit Finn… I was there for
me.
 
They were watching
me… to see if I’d try and hurt myself again.”

Dare doesn’t anything, but his silence is
everything.

I stare around the room, at the empty,
empty room.
 

 
“My brother is dead.”
 
The words taste bitter.
 

Dare doesn’t say anything but he squeezes
me tighter.
 

“You knew all along.”
 
My words are hard.
 
Dare looks down at me.

“I couldn’t tell you. The doctors said
you had to remember on your own.”

“I’m so stupid.”
 
Tears run down my cheeks and I wipe them
away, ignoring my pounding heart because it hurts too much.
 
“I’m insane.”

“You’re not.”

“Are you trying to convince you or me?” I
ask painfully.
 

“You,” he says firmly.
 

I look out the windows, at the rain, at
the cliffs.
 
The wind, the rain, the
clay… all of it blurs together with my tears and it all turns red, because red
= dangerous.
 

My loss is overwhelming.
 

My
brother.
 

The
pain.
 

It’s
all red.
 

“Ever since we were born, we were Calla
and Finn,” I tell Dare blankly.
 
 
“Who am I now?”

Dare holds me close, oblivious to the
weather, oblivious to everything else but me.
 
“I’m one half of a whole. Finn’s my
other half.
 
What am I supposed to
do without him?”

My sobs scrape my ribs, cutting them,
making them bleed because I’m red now.
 
I’ll never be green again.
 

“I don’t know,”
Dare
admits helplessly.
 
“I want to tell you
it’ll be ok.
 
I’ll tell you that
I’ll do anything I can to make it that way. But I think… only time…”

“Don’t say time heals all wounds,” I
interrupt sharply. “That’s a lie.”

“I know,” he says simply. “But with time,
you can manage it. That’s all. The pain will become less and your memories will
keep you afloat. That’s what I know.”

“He wanted saving… from his own mind, I
mean,” I try and make my heart numb, but I know that’s dangerous now.
 
I can’t hide from it anymore.
 
I have to feel this for all of the
miserable pain that it is. “In his journal… he asked over and over to be
saved.
 
He asked me to save
him.”
 
I look into Dare’s eyes. “I
couldn’t save him, Dare.”

Dare doesn’t break our gaze.
 
“He wasn’t yours to save, Calla. He
didn’t die from his mental illness.
 
He died from a car accident.
 
There was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to save him.”