Less than Perfect, S. J. Evans [classic literature books txt] 📗

she squeaked, cheerful. He affected her, in ways she hadn’t imagined before. He made her feel comfortable in her own shell, something she hadn’t been most of her life. “It’s my favorite.”
Slightly surprised, he glanced down at his desk and picked the candy up. “Your favorite candy bar is Milky Way? No way! It’s my favorite too!” He laughed at his outburst. “Here,” he added, passing the bar across the space between them. “Think of this as the start to a grand friendship.”
She took the bar, nodding her head, and slid back in her seat. “I’d like that,” she whispered. Grinning, she pushed the bar in her bag and handed him the piece of paper, her small fingers brushing against his. “Friends?”
He nodded. “Friends.”

When the memory faded, she heard the loud sirens of help outside the house, summoning her to run to safety. She wouldn’t leave Bryan though, she couldn’t

. Nothing else mattered; she needed to be with him as long as possible, the last time she ever would. She owed him that much.

Once the officers had bombarded the premises, everything passed in a blur for Skye. She remembered them pulling her away from the scene, leading her outside as they told her everything was going to be okay.
She knew that wasn’t true though. Nothing was going to be okay for Bryan, he was dead

. Nothing was going to be okay

for a long time. In a way, it hadn’t ever been okay

.
Outside, she sat on the porch steps, a blanket draped over her shoulders, watching as paramedics and officers hustled around. She watched as one of the officers talked to another, waving his hand around and saying things she feared she didn’t want to hear. Tears trickled down her cheeks, like rain trickling down a cold windowpane. Her eyes were heavy, her head spun, rest too far away to reach.
One of the officers had her call Johnny, to inform him on what had happened and that he needed to come to the scene right away. She asked to call Rachel, to let her in on what had happened too. After both calls were made, she waited on the wooden steps, awaiting the questions to be asked from the chief officer. She knew he would come once the situation was under control and she feared that she wouldn’t have the courage to tell the whole story.
She watched as they brought out Bryan’s father, leading him over to the cop car. Anger was unmistakably written all over his face, and fear chided her skin. Without thinking, she dug her back into the steps.
Moments later, they brought out Bryan’s lifeless body and hauled him over to the gurney, covering his blood covered body with a white cloth. Tears welled in her eyes, her throat burning. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture someone else, a stranger

, under that sheet; but she knew it was just a lie, Bryan’s

body was under the sheet—he

was gone.
Her entire body was shaking, the cold sadness sending frigid chills along her arms. There was a scuffle around her but she kept her eyes closed, imagining her own perfect world far from reality.
“Skylar?” An officer said, his voice worn and older sounding, droning on in her ears.
Skye lifted her head up, the night spinning before, and looked at him. He looked tired, she noticed, his eyes dark and his skin worn. He looked too old for how young she supposed him to be, too. Working on the police force would have to be one of the toughest jobs out there, she knew that much.
“Yes?” she barely heard herself say. She didn’t recognize her own voice, it sounded so far away and sad she wished it hadn’t been her own.
“We’d like to talk to you about what happened, if that’s alright with you.” He explained, trying to smile when it only looked like a grimace.
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Beside the first officer was another, an older looking man with gray hair. She noticed the gruffness in his voice the moment it escaped, and she almost cringed. It reminded her of Johnny and Bryan’s father, all too well.
She explained everything as best as she could, refraining from telling them about Bryan’s illness and strikeouts with her. He didn’t deserve to be looked down upon anymore; he had saved her life and deserved the honor of being a hero—what he really was.
Rachel and Johnny had arrived shortly after she started telling the officers everything about what happened. Rachel was at her side the moment she laid eyes on her, holding and comforting her best friend as she listened to the horrific story.
Skye left out a few details, like the fact that Bryan had brought her to his house without her consent, but everything about what happened between him, his father, and her, was out in the open. She fought back tears most of the time, holding Rachel’s hand a few times for assurance, and kept her eyes from looking at Johnny. It would be too tempting to explain to the police all about his problems.
After explaining the entire nightmare of a night, the officers left her to go home with Johnny and told her everything was going to be okay—Bryan’s father was in police custody and would do years of time in prison. She was safe from him.
But she wasn’t safe from Johnny, or what nightmares could become of her dreams. She had lost a friend that night, and that was never going to change.
Rachel stayed with her for the rest of the night, calling her own parents and giving them the scoop. She was going to stay over at Skye’s. She knew that her friend needed her.
“We should get you home, Skye,” Johnny said, giving his hand out so that Skye could take it. “You don’t look well.”
She knew she wouldn’t look well. She had not only been through a tremendous ordeal but she’d lost her friend and part of her heart. Feeling well

was far out of the question. She felt terrible.
Taking Johnny’s hand, she let him help her up. Her eyes were heavy, her legs barely holding herself up. Sleep deprivation was gnawing at her body again, tearing her consciousness away. “I think—” she managed before collapsing in his arms.
Her head was pounding, her heart slowing, barely breathing. The night slowly faded away. The only thing she felt before slipping away was Johnny’s strong hands picking her up from the ground, cradling her like a small child as he brought her to his car with Rachel following behind.

Aftermath

The next three days passed in a terrible blur for Skye. Nightmares were the cause of restless days and nights. And, as the time passed, memories of Bryan flooded her mind, frightening her. Sleep, real

sleep, was far away during that time, masked by the horrifying nightmares that haunted her. She had slept most of the time, though, only waking in sweat once in a while, reeling in the pain of a broken heart and tattered spirit. The agony that clutched her heart had overcome her body, sending it in a downward spiral to the depths of darkness and despair. Her body had lived in that state of darkness during that time.
The nightmares were painted pictures on a cycle around the life she’d lived with Bryan—dark memories, happy memories, things that broke her heart. She yearned for him to be alive, in reach, with

her. But it was the same every time she woke—nothing

. Bryan was no longer with her, only in heart and dreams.
For the first time in those three days, there wasn’t a piercing ring in her head. She woke with her mind refreshed, the pain had subsided. It all seemed clearer, no images torturing her or thoughts scrambling around Bryan’s death. She wanted to pick herself up and out of the depths of despair; she wanted to forget about the bad times. She knew she couldn’t for long, soon the taunting darkness would come back, but she needed to, no matter how short-lived.
Opening her eyes, nothing was blurred; she saw everything in the new light, slicing in through the blinds of her bedroom window. She blinked, her lids recovering from the heaviness of weighing sleep. Her memories of the past few days were only fuzzy. Vaguely, she remembered the nightmares, the waking late into the night with her mom beside her bed trying to calm her screams, the oppressing waves of heat, cold, and exhaustion. All of it slurred into a tainted glower of her own depression—the loss and mourning.
Taking a deep breath, she carefully pulled the covers off of her, leaving them folded on the other side of the bed. Her head was slightly heavy, recovering at its own pace. Stretching, a yawn escaped her lips and she sighed, releasing the long breath. She wanted to go downstairs, looking for her mother or Rachel, but feared Johnny would also be there. And she didn’t need to see him so soon.
She padded her way across the room, slowly. Her body tingled from the stretching of her muscles, lazing in the previous lack of exercise. Touching her hand to her forehead, she felt the clamminess beneath her fingers and decided a quick shower would be the revival she needed.
After she was showered, her mind was clearer, her entire body refreshed. The revival had come; she was in a better place, forgetting the nightmares and thoughts of loss. She still felt the cold hole that dwelled in her heart without Bryan, but she didn’t let it bog her down. She knew that it wasn’t healthy.
Dried and dressed, she stepped back into her bedroom, sighing again. Her heart remained heavy, relenting to release Bryan and let him go, making her insides cry out. She wanted him, wanted him to come back home.
There was a small creek of the floorboards in the hallway, and Skye jumped a little, surprised.
Rachel peered around the doorway, smiling, and looked right at her. “Hey you’re up,” she said. Taking her place as Skye’s best friend, she stepped around the door and into the bedroom, approaching her friend for a hug. “It’s good to see you back in the land of the living,” she added quietly, embracing Skye into a hug.
Skye cringed at even the mention of the word living

; she couldn’t help it. It reminded her that Bryan was no longer living

. Darkness tried to swallow