A/N: I felt somewhat sad after writing the first chapter, and almost stopped writing this…until I watched Sleepwalking again. :) I LOVE THAT MOVIE! If you haven't seen it, I suggest you do, it's a beautiful film.
Jess's Falling
The Volkswagen pulls to a stop in front of your house. You climb out of the car and stick your head back inside the cab to say "Thank-You" and "Goodbye". She smiles at you, and you smile back before slamming the door. You wave as she drives away. It reminds you of the small wave Leslie gave you yesterday. The rain day…
Shaking your head you turn around and head for home.
Ms. Edmunds sure is pretty. You think for the zillionth time. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leslie's house. You don't bother to turn and look; you're too busy thinking about Ms. Edmunds and the art museum.
I wonder what Les did today. I don't think she would go to Terabithia…maybe she wrote something brilliant.
As you fumble with your key, Leslie reenters your mind. You're a bit frustrated. Why are you thinking about her, anyway? Shouldn't you be thinking about how beautiful your music teacher is and how much fun you had today?
Though your stupid key has finally clicked in the lock, you freeze. Are you thinking about Leslie because you think she's prettier than Ms. Edmunds?
No, that's not it. Because Leslie is…is…well, Leslie. Liking her like that would be like liking Brenda or Ellie or Maybelle like that. It's wrong, impossible, gross.
Isn't it?
You're almost to the living room. As you put on a happy face for your family, one more thought enters your mind.
I wonder if she would've liked the art museum. Maybe I should've invited her…
"Hey guys." You call out cheerily. Surprisingly, everyone is in the living room. Wait, is Mom…crying?
"See, I told you so!" Maybelle cries. Her voice is scratchy and broken, like she's been crying too.
"Oh God, Jess!" Mom yells, throwing her arms around you. You can hear her ragged sobs in your ear.
"Where in God's name have you been, boy?" Dad asks, looking more tired than you've ever seen him.
"Mom, I asked you. It's not like…"
"We thought you were dead!" Brenda shrieks. Your eyes widen, and you look to Ellie, who's more sensible than Brenda. She's silent; her face is blank and stony.
"Dead?" You squeak. Wait…dead?
They thought I died?! What is going on here?
"What's wrong?" You ask, only to be greeted by a cold and miserable silence. While you wait for an answer, you scroll through the possibilities.
Is Grandma sick again? No, they thought you were dead, remember?
Did Dad loose his job? What does that have to do with them thinking you were dead?! Okay, you're just thinking about bad things that would make Mom cry. Think about death, Jesse. Think about death!
Okay, focused on death. Maybe there was some problem in Washington, and they thought you got hurt.
Maybe someone had an accident in a Volkswagen, and they thought it was you and Ms. Edmunds.
Could something have happened to Ms. Edmunds? But why would they call your parents…
You're pondering this when someone sighs. You snap back to attention and see Mom give Dad a tearful stare. He turns his gaze on you, the gallons of sadness and pity in his eyes is far more terrifying and painful than any rage he has ever shown.
"Your friend Leslie is dead."
You can't breathe. The world has stopped, the room is spinning, and every breath you take is sharp and cold. You try desperately to hear what your father is saying even over the buzzing in your ears, that's so loud it's making you feel sick.
"She was found dead in a creek this morning shortly after you left. They think she was trying to swing across on a rope and it broke. She must have hit her head…"
Dead…Rope broke…Leslie…drowned…dead…Leslie is dead…she hit her head…creek…shortly after you left she died…Leslie…
Broken bits of his words swim around in your mind, along with yesterday in the rain.
This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Leslie can't die. Leslie can't die just as you can't die.
That's it.
This isn't happening. It's a dream, a horrible, horrible dream. You'd even go as far as a cruel, evil, heartless prank.
Leslie Burke IS NOT dead.
"No, you liar." You sneer before you realize what you're saying. "You're a liar. Leslie isn't dead, the rope couldn't have broken. It's not that kind of rope." But even as you say the words, you can't help but feel you're fighting a losing battle.
"But it did. I'm real sorry, Jess." He gets up and walks towards you. You stare at his face and the Dark Master appears before you.
You really are the Dark Master, playing a trick like this.
"No." You snarl, glaring at him, as you take a step out of the living room. "She's not even dead, she's not!" And you turn around and run out of the house.
"Jess!" You hear Mom shout from behind you, her voice choked with sobs. You're too worried and scared to care. Deciding the driveway would take too long, you cut straight through the ditch in front of your house, ignoring the pain as your legs pop. (You have been in a car for an hour, and now you're running in a ditch.)
It doesn't matter. Anything for her…anything for Leslie…
As you struggle to climb from the ditch, you scold yourself for ever thinking that Ms. Edmunds was even remotely prettier than your amazing, beautiful, perfect and angelic best friend.
You finally get out of that stupid ditch. Out of breath, you stare at the Burke's house.
Police cars.
"Do Not Cross" banners.
No.
No, no, no, no, NO!
Leslie IS NOT dead, Jess. She's not! Stop thinking like that.
Your body works faster than your brain. Already your legs are moving, even though you're still catching your breath. You duck under the banner and run through the yard.
"Hey, hey kid!" A cop shouts. "Miller, Hanson, grab the kid!"
You don't care. You keep running. "Leslie!" You yell. "Leslie!"
You near the house. You see someone bent over a stretcher. Maybe that's the ambulance, taking care of her. You race towards her.
"Jess, stop!" Someone shouts. Bill Burke, maybe?
You're almost there…
You expect to see her smile.
Instead you see her clothes destroyed, her eyes closed, her hair dirty and bloody, and that cut on her head.
You feel numb. "Leslie?" Your voice cracks. Why isn't she breathing?! "Les, Leslie…wake up Les. Come on, wake up!" You feel desperate, the tears are coming.
As you reach out to touch her cut up, but still beautiful, face, two strong hands grab your shoulders.
"Can't ya read the banners, kid? Police area!"
"Yeah, deaths are serious business, sonny." Another cop says more gently.
Deaths.
"No." You mutter.
"What'd you say, kid?" Asks the gruff man. You can read the tag on his uniform: 'E. Hanson'
"No." You say again, louder. "Leslie isn't dead. Now let me go and leave my friend alone!"
"Sorry kid." Hanson says, and he and the other police officer begin to drag you away.
Sorry? Sorry?! Leslie Burke, your best friend in the whole world is dead or dying, and all the person can say is: "Sorry kid"?!
"LET ME GO!" You yell and pull against them.
"Drop him, Ed." The kind cop says.
"Miller, have you-"
"Drop him." Miller orders.
Ed shrugs and releases your shoulder.
"Where is she?" You demand. "Where's Leslie?"
"Look kid…" The man sighs. "I don't know who you are or how you got here, but you need to leave."
"Not until I know what you've done with my friend!"
Miller cocks his head. "Subject L?"
"No, not Subject L. Leslie. Leslie Burke, my best friend. What happened to her?"
"Nobody told you, kid?"
You resist the urge to say your name is Jess Aarons, not 'kid'. Instead, you just shake your head.
"Subject L…Leslie, I mean. Leslie drowned this morning. I'm very sorry about your friend…"
You run away before he can finish his sentence.
She's dead, and it's all your fault.
A/N: I've had this in my head for a while now, as I thought they should've added in the "Scenes" mentioned in this sad little two-shot. I have not given up on "Daughter of the Dead", I am simply busy and not happy with the way chapter 18 has turned out the past seven times I've written it. :) I've got a clearer idea now, so it should hopefully be up soon. Review?
-Emily