A dream. Only a dream.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I worked on calming myself. Every time I had the dream, it always affected me like that.
Through the court hearing, I had seen the images of the crime scene repeatedly. They would be forever burned into my mind. They lingered not far from my thoughts, waiting to torture me. It had been a while since a nightmare showcased them.
Would I ever be free?
I laid back down and pulled the covers over my head. Slowly, I counted each deep breath. My mind filled with soft grass swaying, the clouds moving, anything peaceful to erase the images.
I’m so sorry, Alec. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
STANDING AT THE GATE, A sea of gravestones spread before me. My hands shook. At the burial, the Dorsey family demanded I not be there. I understood and respected their wishes, but always felt the need to give my last respects.
A car drove by, slowing down and then speeding up, causing my stomach to turn at the nasty look I received. I’m sure people already knew I was back. Guin was a small town. Everyone knew everything. It was almost archaic feeling at times. Growing up, Mom and Dad instilled in me to stay out of rumors. If I was supposed to know, the person involved would let me know. How true those words were. Hopefully in the time I was gone the town became more open-minded, so I could integrate myself back into society with minimal blow back.
Part of me wished we had moved, but Mom loved the land and made us promise to never take her from it. Dad still held hope Mom would be able to come back to the farm eventually. I knew that was a pipe dream, but Dad stayed in Guin just in case.
I forced myself to push open the gate while my stomach knotted again. Dad offered to come with me, but it was something I needed to do on my own. I chose to walk to the cemetery in order to get my thoughts in order since we only lived two miles away. Of course, he understood. Part of me wanted Dad to come with me. However, these were my transgressions to bear, not his. Alec deserved my undivided attention.
The morning still held on to a slight chill from the colder than normal summer Alabama was experiencing. It wouldn’t matter if it was one-hundred degrees; I would be cold being at the gravesite. Guilt assuaged me. Carefully, I wound through the graves. Dad told me where Alec was laid to rest.
An eerie calm came over the place. A hundred feet from my destination, I stopped to gather myself. My trial had been expedient and I was sentenced by the end of June. The lawyers were shocked at how quickly everything happened.
I can do this. Alec deserves to hear how sorry I am.
Unbidden, my feet
unwillingly moved closer. My stomach knotted. Because of me, a boy was here. The horridness of the situation still had a hard time connecting with my brain—that I actually was responsible.
I stopped in front of the tombstone belonging to the nine-year-old boy who had died a little over four years ago.
My hand drifted to my mouth as a sob broke free. I couldn’t stand as I collapsed at the foot of the grave. This was my fault. All my fault. Laying my hand at the foot of the grave, where the gravel outlined the perimeter, I poured my heart out. “I’m so sorry, Alec. I’m so sorry for the choices I made. I know sorry doesn’t bring you back, but I am. There’s not a day that goes by I don’t think of you. I wish I could change it all. I—I—I can’t remember what happened.” Another sob erupted. My eyes clenched tight. “I wish I could take it back.” More sobs. “Trade my life for yours.”
He had been a boy full of life. A person with his whole future ahead of him. During the summers, I babysat him a few times. We would play fort in the backyard. Soldiers on the coffee table. Undercover spies in the house.
And because of a choice I don’t remember . . . I took it all.
Tears flowed freely. “I’m so sorry, Alec. So so sorry.”
“What are you doing here?” I jerked around at the menacing voice. Alec’s mom, Farrah, stood there. The loss had aged the once vibrant woman. “You murderer! What are you doing here?”
“I-I-I came to g-g-give my r-r-respects.”
“Get out of here! You killed my son! You killed my son! MURDERER!” Farrah waved her hands, stomping toward me. “You don’t deserve to be here. Someone told me you were here. Get away from my boy! Stay away!”
Abruptly, I stood not knowing what do. The anguish on Farrah’s face ripped through me. “I’m so sorry, Farrah. I wish it had been me.”
“MURDERER!” Farrah marched up and slapped me. The sting lit the side of my face on fire. I stepped back, distancing myself as I cradled my cheek. “Don’t come back here! Never come back here! You don’t deserve to be okay after all you did.”
“I won’t. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I stumbled out of the cemetery while Farrah screamed more. I’d never meant for any of this to happen. My pace picked up to a jog, then a run. All I wanted was the pain to go away. For Alec to be here. Mom to be okay. To dance at Juilliard. Have the love of my life by my side.
For June third to have never happened.
All of it to go away.
I slowed at the gate when I realized where I’d run to. The Paddington’s. I was at Charles’ childhood home. My home away from home. Sweat poured off my brow after running the four miles. In prison, I’d managed to stay somewhat in shape, but nothing like I used to be. Leaning over, I eased the burning in my lungs.