Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

January 15th, 1999

I'm turning 21 today. Without you.

You would have been 21 too. Even if it wasn't next to me; even if you were in New Brunswick and I was in Providence, we would have been 21 together. But we're not. I'm 21 and you'll forever be 18.

You would have been 19, if you had survived another week or if you hadn't died at all. We found out when we were rescued, almost a year ago. We spent 19 months out there and one of the first things I did was find a computer and search for the first snowfall of 1996 in Canada. It was in November, your birth month.

God, what a birthday gift.

Maybe it was a gift, for you. Maybe it was the worse thing to have ever happened in my short life and the best in your even shorter life. Maybe it was freedom; from everything... from me.

I wish I cherished you more. I wish that wasn't the last thing you ever heard. I wish my anger wasn't the last thing you ever felt.

I guess it wasn't. The last thing you ever felt was the emptiness of being left, cold and alone.

I wish I gave you one last hug. I know you always ran cold, I was worried about you shivering alone in the cold that night, as angry as I was. I had no idea you weren't even moving anymore; that you couldn't feel anything because your heart had stopped by then.

God, you were so fucking dramatic. Why'd you have to go and die? Just because I told you the truth? Just because I stood up for myself? I hated how entitled you were; how much you wanted to be the center of attention; how selfish you were.

How could you go and get yourself killed? How could you end your life? You abandoned me. You left me alone. You were by my side since we were in kindergarten. I feel hollow inside, as if I was ripped in half, left fractured. I feel lost without my person. You weren't just my best friend; you were everything.

I still don't know were you end and I begin. I think when you died, so did I. I'll never be the same. The little girl you met at 5 is gone. We'll never be that innocent again. Not when you died and the only remnant left of you were your bones and your heart-shaped necklace.

I can still taste you on the tip of my tongue, in the back of my throat. I don't think I'll ever forget it for the rest of my life. I hope you could finally hear me in that meat shed. I imagined you to be so mean, maybe because of the guilt, because I deserved it, because I wish you had been that mean. I wish you'd have fought back, instead of giving in and sleeping outside like a reprimanded puppy. You were so weak, but I'm worse for taking advantage and kicking you while you were down.

If only I'd owned up to my mistake. If only I told you how I felt. Maybe everything would be different. Maybe I'd be next to you, instead of wearing an engagement ring given to me by Jeff.

I hated you, but I hate myself more.

Chapter Text

March 19th, 2013

Callie just turned 9.

That's how old you were when you first got your glasses. I remember, they were pink and green. You said you always wanted to carry a piece of me with you.

You were so upset to have to wear glasses but that all went away when you found that pair; the one that reminded you of me.

I know you hated the way you looked with glasses. You said they made you look dorky. You were right, but I absolutely loved you and your dorkiness. I always told you that. I told you how pretty you looked with glasses and you would blush. You always tried to hide your face from me, but I noticed.

That all changed in middle school though. The opinions of boys suddenly mattered, mine was no longer the one you valued most. Suddenly you came to school with straightened hair and contacts. One day you applied concealer and all I could think was how much I missed your freckles.

I know how insecure you felt without makeup afterwards. I know you hated being in the wilderness without any way to doll yourself up. Even if no one else cared about keeping up appearances, you still donned those preppy outfits until your death.

I miss that time before middle school; before everything went to shit. When the only thing that mattered was each other.

When I think about that time before middle school though, I think about how I was halfway through my time with you and I had no idea. I spent the rest of our time together resenting you.

I'm sorry.

My daughter turned 9 and I want to cherish her as much as I can. My baby never got to live to this age, and at this age you were halfway through your life.

I know I'm not a great mother. I can't be the mother Callie needs. In some twisted way, I'm glad my baby was never brought into this world. I couldn't be the mother he needed either. I'm glad he didn't have to suffer in this world.

It would've felt wrong. If he came into this world and you weren't by my side. It felt wrong when I gave birth to Cals and I looked around the room and you weren't there. But I could feel you. I could feel your gaze. You were there, but I couldn't see you. Was he there, next to you? If he's there with you, I hope you're both taking care of each other since I can't. I couldn't.

I was terrified when she was born. I wasn't made to handle fragile things. All I do is break and destroy. I wasn't meant to care for a being that would have to rely solely on me. I'm less scared now. I still fear everyday but now I know Cals can feed herself, walk on her own. I'll still be there for her everyday but she's not that fragile little thing that came out of me.

I've seen her grow stronger everday.

The way I never got to see my baby grow. The way I haven't been able to see you grow in 17 years.

Its been nearly 17 years since you left me, 15 since we were rescued. I've spent more time grieving you than the amount of time I ever knew you.

I think of how big Callie has gotten since I met her in that hospital room 9 years ago. She was such a little thing. 19 inches and 7 pounds. She was a healthy baby. I was so grateful. I had nightmares of her life ending with the same fate that fell on my baby: ending before it ever began. My baby didn't even weigh 5 pounds. It was cruel, his fate. But maybe it was merciful.

I'm glad my baby didn't have to go through all the horrors of life. Didn't have to experience hatred. Wasn't subjected to meeting someone as evil as me.

I'm sorry by the way. Sorry you had to spend the majority of your life with me. Sorry that those glasses were your midlife crisis. I'm sorry we never made it to nationals and that you never set foot into your dorm room at Rutgers. I'm sorry I killed you.

I wish you were next to me, celebrating our daughter's birthday.

I hope you're up there, or wherever the afterlife is, watching over us, taking care of our son; our baby.

I miss you.