Shattered

As soon as I was away from the train and on the road, I let out my own anguished howl. The pain, both physical and emotional, was wearing me down. I don’t know how much longer I could go with this.

With trembling hands from the hurt, I unscrewed the cap of the white bottle and downed the last two pills. Hopefully it would last the eight mile walk to the town. I took the bottle and threw it back in the bag, starting up along the side of the dark road. The stars above me provided little company.

No cars passed by me, not a headlight in the distance. Thunder rumbled overhead, warning me of an approaching storm. The angry clouds in to the west blocked out part of the sky.

About two long, weary hours later, I saw light up ahead. A dirt road to my right labeled Ricksin Road appeared. A bright Dead End sign was stack on top of the street sign.

By the time I reached the source of the lights, the pain had come back. Turns out the lights had come from three separate buildings. On one side of the road sat a gas station and small convenience store. On the other side was a car repair stop called Sykes Tires and General Repairs. Clustered next to the vehicle repair stop was a small general store and restaurant.

Further down the road was a small church with all the lights extinguished. Only a small lamp post in the parking lot lit up any part of the road or sidewalk. It would have to be my place to stop and rest before going forward.

As I walked into the town, I saw a few men standing outside the gas station. They were all smoking cigarettes. I ducked towards the general store before anyone saw me.

The sign said ‘closed’, but the owner was still in there. I could see the man walking around in the back. He had bright red hair that reminded me of Ariel. He had a rounder face that was currently looking at a magazine in the back of the store.

In the first display on the third isle, I spotted a bottle of pain relief, similar to the empty one in my pack. I don’t care if the sign told me otherwise, I needed that jar!

So I knocked on the door, causing the man to look up. He walked to the door as my stomach started to twist in pain. When was the last time I had food? The man must’ve felt bad for me because he opened the door and leaned out.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed.” He told me, frowning at my disturbance.

“Please, I’ve been walking for two hours and I need one of those jars!” I choked out, pointing to the isle. The name tag on the man’s shirt read Gerard Way. I looked him in the eyes and begged.

“Why were you out this late at night walking on the highway?” Gerard asked, tilting his head in curiosity. I pursed my lips.

“I’ll tell you if you let me in so I can buy the jar of pain killer.” I traded. He thought for a moment and then opened the door.

So for the next half hour, I traded my story for the pills. I got four dollars back in change for the mild relief. I didn’t care if my time for waiting wasn’t up, I popped two pills in my mouth and swallowed before shoving the new white jar in my bag.

I told Gerard the short version of my story. I was homeless, taken away from my city, so I caught a train that broke down. I got off and started walking to catch the Denver train early Friday morning.

“Wow, you are one tough girl.” He smiled. I thanked him as we had a little more small talk. He offered me food, which I politely declined. My stomach rumbled in hunger, but I didn’t want to risk throwing it up. Instead, he gave me a bag of chips and a Gatorade for the rest of my trip.

“So what’s the name of this town? I hadn’t seen it on the map?” I asked him. He laughed.

“It’s one of the small, unnamed towns in Utah. We’re Isolation, Utah with a population of fifteen!” He laughed and held the door for me.

As I walked out, I started down the road towards the church. By the time I got there, my stomach forced me to try to eat something. Sitting down on the curb of the sidewalk, I emptied out my pack, spilling the contents onto the cement. The doors of the church were locked tight and dark. I sat beneath the only light post.

A piece of paper caught my attention. It wasn’t the one that held Chris’s number, but had Austin’s loopy handwriting written on the front. My name was on the folded half sheet. It must’ve been sitting at the bottom, because I never noticed it.

With a sick feeling in my stomach, I opened it up and began to read.

Kynder,
You’ll probably be far away, maybe off in Denver or somewhere else. Maybe you won’t even read this note. All I wanted to say was how incredibly foolish I was dumb and stupid I was to let you go. I never meant to hurt you, and I regret every moment that I was drunk. You’ll never want to speak to me again, and I understand that.

To add insult to injury, I sold the most precious girl that ever came into my life. Once I hurt her, I was being a coward and didn’t want to face my mistakes. I promised to keep you safe and I broke that. Then I auctioned you off to someone who you probably thought would beat you. You never trusted me when I said that Ronnie was a good man, but I wouldn’t blame you. If I was put through what you had endured, I wouldn’t trust me either.

If you’re reading this right now, I just want to let you know how sorry I am and how much I regret the mistakes I made. I screwed you and myself over multiple times. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you’ll know that I love you so much. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect girl. You’re a wonderful, beautiful person. I really do love you, even if you think I’m lying. All I wish is that I could prove it to you.

Here’s my phone number. If you need anything, just call and I’ll be there.
Yours truly,
Austin Carlile (Or the man who regrets everything he did)

I clutched the paper with shaking hands bowing my head and sobbing loudly. My mind was torn in two. Part of me said that I shouldn’t believe a word he said and to just ignore the ten digits at the bottom of the sheet. The other half said that I was foolish not to forgive him because deep down, I knew I loved him. Everyone deserved a second chance and that half told me I needed to give him one. I could’ve easily ripped myself down the seams right now. I didn’t have a phone right now, nor did I need one. I told myself to save the paper, keep it as a backup.

I stuffed everything else into my pack and took out the crackers. I took out one with a water bottle. Over the next ten minutes, I forced cracker after cracker down my throat, gulping down the water. Food would wash out my sorrows.

As soon as I put the crackers in my pack and stood up to start my journey again, I ran and puked out in a bush. I felt the blood and bile sting the back of my throat. I popped two more pain pills.

Six pills in two and a half hours.

After the little episode, I emptied my thoughts except for breathing and walking down the highway to Price, Utah. Ten minutes later, I started to retch on the right shoulder of the road, near a dirt road.

I collapsed to my knees and smiled. I think the end was finally coming. Had the acid finally worn away the burn in my stomach, or was it the six pills that did me in? Was it a combination of both?

Either way, I felt the pain slow down to a halt. I hugged my knees to my chest and lay in the dirt. Closing my eyes, I no longer felt the cold. It was warm and inviting in the night air.

A car drove past me, screeching to a halt. I sighed in contentment. Maybe I would finally die, but I would be done with the pain! It would all be over! Mitch would lead me to the golden fields and I would see my mom and dad.

I felt tender hands grasp my shoulders and carry me somewhere as I finally drifted off.

Notes

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