#mwaf

Poor Jessy. Even in her grief over the man she loved, or at the very least, her best friend’s betrayal, she’d been attempting to reach me non-stop. I’d avoided them, every single one of them since Hannah’s rescue. It wasn’t like I planned on NEVER talking to them again, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it right now. I can’t say I felt stupid, because I knew who Richy was, and I know, deep down inside, he thought he was doing the right thing. His methods weren’t perfect, but I don’t think he could have foreseen Amy’s suicide or that Dan would shoot him.

Poor Dan. He must feel horrible about shooting him. I’d take to the grave that he’d foiled Richy’s escape plan, resulting in his death. He had enough on his plate, just like the others. Part of me wishes that Richy had been able to fake his escape with Hannah, that our last conversation didn’t feel so much like his final “Adios”. Pain grips my chest as I remember the last stupid joke he made, bleeding out on the mine floor. Defeated, with nowhere to run. A coward’s way out.

I did that a lot. Jumping between emotions, trying to sort through my feelings. I was angry, but primarily at myself. None of it made sense, but part of me knew that it didn’t have to. Not everything in life makes perfect sense, but right now, I wish something, anything at all, seemed right in the world. The only part that felt wholesome and good, was reuniting Hannah with Thomas. Hannah with Lilly. Hannah with her friends, but even then, the group would never be whole again. Now without Richy.

Phil had called several times since his release. Desperate to thank me for proving his innocence and to testify in court, but what did I know? Without Michael’s body, we have no solid proof either way. I don’t think Phil is capable of murder, not for something as silly as the bar, and Michael did seemingly hand it over willingly before the forest “swallowed him whole” as Alan put it. At this point, however, nothing would surprise me. If Richy could kidnap one of his friends, anything was possible. Absolutely anything.

Speaking of Alan, he’s requested informally that I come and speak with him, the offer of coffee still on the table, as his men work to recover Richy’s remains from the mine. I’d avoided his phone calls well. I needed time; time to breathe, to feel, to sort myself out, to grieve. How was it possible to fall in love with so many people in such a short amount of time? How was it possible that I’d lose them just as quickly?

Over and over, I asked myself the same questions, and quite frankly, it felt like I was going insane. I was worried about Jake. Where the hell could he be? Hannah had messaged, that she saw someone escaping the forest. Was that Jake? It had to have been, right? I watched the stream. I saw Richy light the fire and the tunnel cave-in. He couldn’t have made it out and Hannah saw only one person run through those woods.

Should I take the words of someone who’s hallucinations started this thing? If she felt so damn guilty, why not just go to the police? Tell the truth? You could have saved so many lives, Hannah. Why? Michael may not have disappeared. Amy wouldn’t have killed herself. Richy wouldn’t have had to die with such pain in his heart. Clearly, I’d have to work on forgiving her because right now, I was angry with her, child or not at the time.

God, Richy. I loved that boy, and I still couldn’t believe it. I was thankful, in the end, that he was still Richy. He’d not hurt anyone, really. Amy was already dead when he found her after all. Sure, kidnapping Hannah wasn’t the BEST idea, but I’m sure he at least TRIED to keep her comfortable. Richy faked his death and hurt me in the process, but he wasn’t a murderer. Part of me felt a little better knowing that.

Unless I never heard from Jake again.

Would anything have changed if I’d gone to the mine by myself? I don’t think he’d have killed me, but maybe he’d have let me talk some sense into him. Maybe Jake wouldn’t have been tracked by the FBI.

I wanted to stop him, but I couldn’t get through to him. His final words were a confession to Jessy. He needed her to hear it from him, but then why couldn’t he see her denial as a ray of hope. It should have been clear that his friends would eventually forgive him. They cared about him. After all the forgiveness and understanding I gave him in his final moments, if he took Jake out with him, I’d never forgive him.

As I suspected, I didn’t get much sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see Richy’s face, behind that stupid mask, or Jake engulfed in flames. Three days after Hannah’s rescue, I’m still avoiding my phone. I read the messages but did not reply. I can’t bring myself to, not yet. I reach for it hoping to see something from Jake.

Nothing but there is a message from Jessy.

“They’ve found remains in the mine, as well as evidence, but most was lost in the fire. They’re pretty sure it’s Richy, but they’re running dental records to be sure. Won’t you come to Duskwood? I could really use my best friend right now.”

The phone falls from my hands and hits the floor with a thud. I grip my hair in my hands, and sink to my knees, screaming as loud as my lungs will allow. What little strength I had left me, as I sob uncontrollably. The world around me sways violently making my stomach churn.

 Try as I might to deny it, I was hoping that Richy survived.  I wanted to see that smirk of his one last time. I needed to tell him how stupid he was. I wanted a chance to forgive him, properly. Richy was dead. I had to believe that because the alternative was worse. Far worse. Just the thought caused me to scream louder, and pull harder, as a fog settled in over my vision. If it wasn’t Richy if it turned out to be anyone but Richy that would mean it would have to be….

Jake.

As if all the air had been sucked from the room, I struggled to breathe, panic consuming me as everything went black. The last thing I remember; is the sound of the front door bursting open, and a pair of combat boots rushing towards me. If I was lucky, I’d never wake up, because being awake, stuck in my head with all these thoughts, was worse than any nightmare I’d had. Far worse.