Easton

“I’m not bullshitting here, Easton. I mean it. This isn’t you. Whatever you’ve got going on is going to stop.”

“And you, fierce leader, are going to do it.”

“It’s not your fault that you didn’t love her, and even a little part of yourself is relieved she’s dead so you didn’t have to take responsibility.”

Easton stared at his friend. In that moment, he didn’t consider him a friend but the enemy.

“Get out. Go and fuck your woman or something.”

“You can hate me all you want, Easton. We know you had feelings for Carla, but it didn’t extend to love.”

“I bet you had a great time telling Taylor that.”

“I didn’t tell Taylor anything. She doesn’t need to hear it. You do. We all understand, and we get it. You’ve got to stop making this harder for yourself. Believe it or not, we all do love you.”

This time, Easton laughed.

“We do, otherwise we wouldn’t have made this arrangement. Get the help, and when you’re out, we can help you stay on track.”

Easton didn’t want to stay on track. “Get out.”

Axton got to his feet. “We do love you.”

He didn’t say anything.

Axton sighed. “Fine. You can hate me all you want. It’s not going to change anything. We’ve disposed of your problem, and you’re going to stay here. I’ve already informed the doctors you’re a flight risk. This is for your own good, Easton, and one day, I hope you can see that.”

Silence filled the room.

It felt amazing, wonderful, and at the same time, Easton was sick.

Running a hand down his face, he realized he needed a drink, badly.

Really fucking badly.

This wasn’t good for him.

All he did was drink. The drugs were the next step up and he didn’t take any of them, bought them with the intention of taking them.

Climbing out of his bed, he opened the second door in the room and found an en-suite bathroom, if anyone could call it that. It was so tiny.

He made it to the toilet, vomiting. He held onto the edge of the toilet as he threw up absolutely everything in his stomach, or what felt like it anyway.

When he was finished, he pulled down the flusher and pressed his face against the edge of the toilet.

Someone had sat their ass on this very toilet seat at one time, and he had his face to it. He was practically kissing another man or woman’s ass.

He didn’t have the energy to get up and move.

“This is pitiful.”

He turned his head to see her.

She wasn’t real.

He’d seen her dead body.

Yet, Carla, seventeen-year-old, sweet, smiling Carla, sat on the edge of the bathtub as if she was very much alive.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You tell me. You’re the reason I’m here.”

“I’m hallucinating. That’s what this is.”

Carla sighed. “And yet, I’m still here. Clearly, you like thinking of me, sweetheart.”

“Axton was right.”

She winced. “I didn’t imagine you’d say that out loud.”

“You’re here, like, a ghost, and I’m over a toilet. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“You’re concerned by what this all means, rather than wondering why it is you thought of me as someone to talk to in your moment of need. That is crazy talk.”

“You’re dead.”

“I know. I remember.”

Now this was all a little too much, and he couldn’t handle it.

Getting to his feet, he felt the sickness in his mouth, and quickly washed it out with water.

“Here you go panicking. You need to calm down. You really do.”

“I don’t want to talk about anything right now.” He splashed water on his face. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“So you’re going to run. Isn’t that what you always do? When the going gets tough, Easton starts running or in your case, drinking. The drugs were a rebel step, I’ll give you that. I didn’t see it coming.”

“You’re in my imagination. It means the only person I’m really seeing is myself.”

“I know. You’re talking to yourself, and I’m the voice of reason still. What does that tell you?” She stood up, putting hands on her hips and walking toward him.

“I visit your grave.”

“Again, we’re one and the same, and I know.”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

In all the years since her death, he’d not seen her. Not like this. In the moments of drink, he was sure she was close by, but he’d always been so drunk.

“I’m a figment of your imagination, Easton. You tell me why I’m here.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m guessing I’m here for you to talk to. If you remember when we were younger you were always able to talk to me. You know you could keep all of your secrets with me.”

“Secrets that nearly cost me everything. You put everything down in a diary.”

“I was a girl. I was falling in love and with a guy I knew I shouldn’t trust, and yet, I was doing it. You can hate me all you want. You can even hate Axton, but deep down, you know he’s right about this. About you getting well.”