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Torn (Connections #2)(91)

By:Kim Karr




       
         
       
        

Lifting my arms out to the side, I raise my head up toward the heavens and scream, "It's not fair. Do you hear me? It's just not fair." My scream turns into a whimper before I finish and my anger transforms into sorrow as the reality hits me that no matter how mad I am or how sad I am, she's really gone.

Water drips from my hair, absorbs into my clothes, and soaks me to the bone. Grief besieges me as I feel another piece of my soul chipped away and I wonder how much more could possibly be left. How much can one person take until there is nothing left-to take or to give?

"Dahl," Ben yells and my name sounds desperate on his lips.

"Dahlia," River calls and this time my name sounds calm, tranquil.

I turn and see him standing in the doorway to the hospital entrance.

"River!" I cover my mouth and shake my head.

"I'm sorry," he calls out to me and I run to him, because I don't want to run any other way. I jump into his arms and hold him and I know that what's left of my soul is for him.





Chapter 26

Everybody's Changing




Since Grace died, I just can't shake the feeling of being a little lost. She taught me so much-she was always there for me. I loved her so deeply. Tears threaten to spill again, and I start to worry that I might not be able to keep it together. River's lying beside me in bed, rubbing circles along my back and asking me what he can do for me. I know he's unsure of what to do or say and so am I.

All I want is not to have to think about her being gone so I close my eyes and drift off again. When I wake up, I'm alone. It's dark and I take a moment to compose myself before making my way into the bathroom. But once the coolness of the tiled floor hits my feet, I want it to numb me all over. To take away the grief and help me get through the next few days. And most of all, I want it to help me say goodbye to Grace.

Dropping down onto the floor, I bow my head in my hands and let the tears fall yet again. Sitting there, I have to wonder how many tears a person can shed for loved ones lost before they're all dried up. Suddenly, the bright lights blind me and I squint at him standing near the door.

"Dahlia, are you okay?"

I nod.

"What are you doing?"

He looks terrified. His hands reach under my arms, lifting me up. I can tell he's worried I'm sinking fast and won't be able to pull myself up. But as I stare into his eyes, I know I will be okay. I have to be. For him.

On his lap now, I push the hair from his eyes. "Hey, I'm okay."

He strokes my check. "You sure?"

I nod and stand up. Reaching for his hand, I lead him back into the bedroom. "Can I show you something?" I ask as I open the curtains and see it's a beautiful sunny day. It finally stopped raining. 

He sits in the chair and just looks at me as if uncertain of how to answer. It's a look that makes me smile. "It has nothing to do with sex, if that's what you're thinking."

Almost horrified, he tells me, "No, that's not what I'm thinking at all."

"I know, I'm just kidding, silly." I want to reassure him and let him know that even though I'm sad, I will be okay.

My mother's hope chest is old, and the creamy-white paint is almost completely peeled off. Bending down to reach it, I open the lid and realize I haven't looked in here in a long time, not since the break-in when I had to put everything back in it that wasn't destroyed.

I smile when I see my dolls, yearbooks, diplomas, and various mementos. As I'm digging through the contents, I feel his arms wrap around my waist and he hugs me tightly. I clutch his arms and squeeze him back for a few seconds before moving to sift through the items for what I want to show him.

When I find it, I have to hold it close to my heart first. Then I turn to hand it to him. Smiling, I point to the small, blond-haired girl in the photo, surrounded by seven adults. "For my tenth birthday, when my parents asked what I wanted, it was an easy choice-I wanted to meet Elton John. My mom started to say no, but my Dad just beamed at me and told me of course he could arrange that. And he did."

I look at River and he's studying the picture as I move across it with my finger, "That's Grammy, Auntie, Uncle Scott, Mom, Dad, Grace, and that is Sir Elton John himself. My dad even managed a private show before the concert where Elton John sang 'Believe' and then 'Happy Birthday' to me."

River leans over and kisses my cheek. "Wow, what an awesome birthday present, especially for a ten-year-old."

I grin because I remember that day so vividly.

He looks at me and in complete seriousness asks, "Why Elton John and not Hootie and the Blowfish or someone a ten-year-old might gush over?"