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This Story

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This Story

"Are you insane? Why did you do that?" Bash exclaims as he drives me back to school.

I rest my elbow against the door and lean my head on my hand while staring out the window. "Oh please, Mason isn't that scary."

"But he's dangerous Sadie," Bash comments with a certain urgency I've never heard from him before.

I look over to him to see his eyebrows furrowed together and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"How so?" I laugh. "He's not stupid enough to touch me."

"No he's not," he seethes. "But that's not how Mason works. He ruins your life from the inside out. He's like a damn disease." Unlike in the Mexican restaurant when he held no emotion what so ever and I couldn't figure out what he was feeling, he's showing too many expressions for me to decipher now.

"I thought he was your friend?" I ask confused.

Bash shakes his head. "We used to be. He's a year older than me and I used to look up to him when I was a stupid angry adolescent boy. He had all the girls and fun and no stress or anger like I did. You want to know how he was that way Sadie," he says, looking over to me in the process.

"No," I gulp, "how?"

"Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs." His eyes turn back to the road but his focus stays on his own thoughts. "I saw him as a safe place for me as stupid as that sounds but I wasn't in a good place and I needed an escape. And he offered that escape, drugs." Bash shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes before he irritably brushes it away. "The drugs ruined me. It started off with just marijuana and a few drunk nights, but it soon escalated all the way to dirty needles and hospital visits, and eventually rehab and military school."

"Bash," I say quietly not knowing how to understand anything he must have went through. I've never done drugs and before Bash I've never drank. I can't begin to imagine what being in rehab was like. "Wait, were you in rehab when you first left four years ago?"

"It was the end of freshman year when my Dad found me unconscious on the front steps of his house with hardly a heart beat. Mason dropped me off like a scared little baby after I over dosed at his house." My own heart beat starts to speed up and I can feel my palms getting clammy with sweat. "He rushed me to the hospital and I remember a few things. Nurses were trying to put an oxygen mask on me. The doctor saying he's going to give me a shot of morphine, the same voice saying that it was too late, my Dad yelling for me to wake up, then the doctors telling him to leave. He wouldn't leave," Bash says quietly while staring ahead with a lost gaze, "He kept shaking me I think, he made the doctor give me more morphine which should have killed me, but he did it anyway. I remember my body filling up with mud, they were pumping my body, then I remember seeing someone. Someone that I didn't think I would ever see again." His voice breaks and my heart breaks along with it. He blinks, trying to get rid of the tears threatening to fall. "And somehow it all ended. I woke up to my father sitting next to me. He said four words, 'You're going to rehab,' then he left the room." Bash runs his tongue over his top lip while clenching the wheel tighter. "He didn't say another word to me for the next four years." Bash shakes his head and laughs dryly. "He saves my life and then practically disowns me for four years. I guess he didn't want to face the fact that it was all his fault to begin with in the first place."

"You almost died?" I whisper and notice my own voice cracks. My vision stings with unshed tears and my arms ache to attach themselves to Bash.

The car stops at a red light and Bash takes the time to look over at me. His stare buries me under a rubble of fear and sadness. "I did die Sadie."

...

"I don't want to go," I speak up for the first time in five minutes.

"Get out of the car," Bash replies with no emotion.

We're parked in front of the school even though the bell rang ten minutes ago. Since Bash told me that he died the world seemed to fill up with silence. We didn't share a word, or a look, or a thought. He stopped in front of the school three minutes ago and neither of us have moved a muscle. I might not know the whole story of Bash or how Mason has to do with his present life or mine, but I do know that Bash can't be alone right now. I think he's been alone for too long.

"No," I repeat. "Class started already anyways."

"So where do you suppose we go then?" Bash turns to me. "Fairytale land where you think you're going to make me feel better? Where you'll be my knight in shining armor, ready to save the day," he says in a deathly tone.

"Well actually you should be the knight in shining armor because you're the boy," I point out.

Bash stares at me for a good minute, making me squirm in my own seat.

"Be honest Blondie, do you want to hear the rest of my pathetic story?"

"It's not pathetic Bash."

"You don't think it's pathetic huh," he repeats with a mocking voice. "Well, be prepared to be proven wrong."

The puts the car in drive and in less than ten minutes we're pulling into the driveway of a large three story house that's two minutes away driving distance to my own house.

"What is this place?"

Instead of answering, Bash slides out of the car and proceeds to walk up the pathway, leading to the front porch. I jump out of the car and run to catch up to him. His strides are more of a stomping than I'm used to and every time I hear the sound of his boots slapping against the pavement I feel chills running down my spine.

He stops in front of a welcome mat that's placed in front of a gorgeous white door. He points to the weaved together fabric that looks like something my mom would die to have.

"This is where my Dad found me," Bash says.

I look from the brown mat up to Bash, and back down to the mat.

"Here?" I ask, feeling confused. I look around me to make sure that I am in fact seeing a clean cut green lawn, a perfect set of patio furniture, and a white wrap around porch that looks brand new.

Bash nods his head.

"Your Dad lives here?"

He nods his head again.