Forgive

We both stared akwardly into the sky, our bared feet just a few inches from the creeping ocean. Jack looked incredible: his short black hair freshly shortened to the perfect length, skin brazenly tanned in the California fashion, and a tight black long sleve carefully chosen to accentuate his well earned muscular arms. I had never hated him more than when I looked at him.

"I'm...well, I'm really glad you came today, Molly." Jack stammered. "I didn't actually think you would ever speak to me again."
"Yeah, well, I figued if Jenny's Mom could find it in her heart to forgive you,...I could possibly tolerate you while you're here for the wedding." I flashed Jack a feeble sarcastic smile that quite quickly turned into a scowl. I turned away and let the silence settle over us once more.

It was hard seeing him again. I still couldn't bear to look him in the eyes; I was so afraid that the images might come back. The picture of walking into the Emmerson's house on the one night I had asked Jack to watch Jenny because I was busy, finding him lifting her onto the couch, terrified, the knife dripping her blood-

No, those images had taken months of severe thearapy and medication to forget. There was no way I would deal with them again.

"Listen, Jack, I can't deal with this right now." I said, pushing back the tempting feeling to murder him where he sat. "I think you should just stay away from me while you're here."
Jack nodded in sad understanding. "Ok. Um, thanks for coming to see me."
I returned the nod, my teeth biting my bottom lip to stop me from yelling.
"Sure."

As I rode home on my beloved Shwinn bicycle, I thought about all the good memories we had: Running through sprinklers on the fourth of July, our first day of fifth grade, the homcoming dance where he accidentally spilled punch all over Mrs. Hopkins 'good' dress shoes. We had been friends forever, as close as siblings, since we were...well, I can't ever remember how young. He had always been there for me, no matter what, and the part of my brain that remembered that wanted me to forgive him. Unfortunatly, that part of my brain has been relatively shut out by the voice that keeps reminding me that he killed my friend.

Oh, don't get me wrong, alot of me WANTS to believe that it was an accident, that Jenny really WAS suicidal at such a young age. I mean, she was on medication for that sort of stuff...prozac and the like. But Jack shouldn't have left her alone! Not while she was so unstable. And esspecially leaving the knife he used the cut the chicken with in the sink without putting a protective sheath on, which I HAD SPECIFICALLY TOLD HIM TO DO!

I arrived home in a torrent of emotions, my dark brown hair trying, and somewhat managing, to escape from its hold in the pink scrunchie. And as if I needed more mayham than my recent encounter and messy hair could give, my mother came into the hall, and spotted me.
"Goddes on high, Molly, you look like a wreck!" She exaggerated, her arms in wild gesticulation.
My mom was, in my opinion, crazy. She was like me when she younger: thin, expiremental, and easy-going. But as she grew older, she started getting into weird things...namely numerology. After one class, she was hooked, going around telling everyone thier numbers (I'm apparently a seven, and a carpicorn of the twenty-eigth degree or something)To make matters worse, her teacher said she would be a perfect canidate to be a, gulp, physcic. So ever since, it's been 'future seeing' this and 'tarot' that. I usually found her lifestyle amusing, but today, I really just wanted to run up to my room and be alone with my thoughts.

"Oh, hi Mom, if you don't mind, I have to go lie down for a bit."
"Lie down? LIE DOWN!? Oh Molly dear, you're not sick are you!? And on your cousin's wedding weekend too! Deary me...well, would you like me to do some reflexology on you? Hmm? It might help with-"
"Mom, please!" I intervened "I'm fine...I'm just a little worn out from..." The image of Jack popped back into my mind. The way his face lit up when he saw I had come to the pier, his body language just itching to blab a confession after all this time...
"Actually, Mom, I think I need an appointment with Dr. Wilks."
Suddenly, my mother's face fell. She sighed and said "I'll call."

Thirty minutes later, becuase of a blessed cancellation, I sat in Dr. Wilks all too familiar 'Patient Talking' room, as he called it. Basically, where all the crazies go to talk about their horrid lives. I sat down on the green leather couch and waited for him to get the usual question out of the way.
"So, Molly, have you been taking you medication? You remember the instructions I gave you, one pill every five hours?" Dr. Wilks furrowed his unaturally huge forhead and stared at me over his rectangular glasses.
"Yes, I have been taking my meds, but that's not why I'm here."
He nodded and wrote something in his 'All-about-Molly' chart.
"So, what seems to be the problem, eh? Visions again?"
I exhaled loudly. "Sort of...I saw Jack today."
He stopped writing and stared at me. "You saw Jack today."
"Yeah," I sighed "He's here for my cousin's wedding. Allison had always considered him part of the family."
"I see." Said Dr. Wilks, looking greatly concerned. "And...how did you react to seeing him?"
"Well...he asked me to meet him at the pier, out favorite hang out spot during the summer. That alone brought back some weird memories. But...I don't know, seeing him felt good, but also completely horrible. It was like looking at a puppy who had just ripped up a favorite sock...I was mad, but I didn't want to be." I looked down, uneasy of admitting how much I wanted to forgive Jack.
Dr. Wilks scribbled away in the manilla file for a good five minutes, then carefully set it and his glasses on the desk behind him. He sighed.
"Molly...maybe it's time to forgive Jack. As I have told you before, he meant no harm to your friend. She was in a very unbalanced state of mind, and probably would have found another way if the knife hadn't been there." Wilks looked at me, directly at me so I knew how much he meant what he said. "Maybe if you forgive Jack-"
"I can't forgive him! I CAN'T! He was standing over her body, the knife in his hand, her wrists bleeding...blood!" I was standing and hysterical now. Tears were racing down my face, my hands in tight fists. "I can't, I can't, I can't!"
I closed my eyes and cried wailed for a moment before Dr. Wilks tried to push me back onto the couch. Before I could gather a rational thought, I had pushed his hands off my shoulders and ran out of the building. I could barely see through the streams in my eyes, but all I could think of was to keep running. Go, just go. Move your legs, faster, faster. Before I could comprehend what had just happened, I looked around and realized I was running right passed the graveyard where Jenny was burried. I did a split second U-turn and was running through the gate, down the asphalt path, running to her. I slowed as I came to Jenny's row, and clumseley walked to her grave. I knew the sight by heart; Mrs. Emmerson had let me pick out the headstone, a white piece of marble with a daisy, as I was the closest thing to a friend her daughter had ever known.
She was only twelve years old when she died; I had been babysitting her for five years. It was hard at first, trying to bond with the weird daughter of the new neighbors in order to get paid, but eventually, we became friends. Best friends, actually. Becuase of her condition, the 'dangerous voices' inside her head, she wasn't allowed to leave the house. I became her real connection to the outside world. I told her all about my school and my friends, and what it was like to lead a normal life. She told me stories about the other people who lived inside her body, and how they would come out to play sometimes if she didn't take her meds right away. I never once saw one of these friends, so I had alwasy assumed they were just stories of an overactive immagination.
I knelt down in front of the stone, my outrageous tears falling onto the planted grass.
"I'm sorry, Jenny!" I sobbed to the stone. "I shouldn't have left you with Jack. He didn't know Jenny! He didn't know!" I flung myself to the earth under which she was resting, and hugged it as best I could.
"Jack's not a bad person, Jenny. He just didn't know."
And just like that, it clicked.
"He didn't know."
Slowly, I raised myself from the ground, the last of my tears rolling slowly down my stained cheeks.
"I love you, Jenny." I whispered. I inhaled deeply and shook my head. "I...I know you forgive him, but...no, it wasn't his fault. You told me the voices wanted to kill you and I should have listened, should have really told somebody, should have told Jack what you said, at least. I'm sorry, Jenny. It's my fault."
As I pivoted out of the mass of graves, my words still in my own head, I dialed Jack's cell, which I had never taken off speed dial, and left a voice mail. Then, I ran down to the pier.

I stared into the sky, the brilliant colors of the sunset letting me know how lucky I am to be alive. Suddenly, someone intentinally coughed behind me. I turned to face Jack...his eyes, a more brilliant brown than I could remember, staring at me quizzically.
"Well, I've thought it over and..." I hesitated, feeling my heartbeat race. "I'm sorry. I was to blame. I didn't tell you about her condition. About the voices. I'm sorry."
He looked down at his shoes, then sat down next to me.
"It wasn't anyone's fault, Molly. Neither you nor I would have been able to stop her that night. I suppose the disease was just too much for a girl of her age to handle."
I felt the tears rush back to my eyes and released them silently. I looked over at Jack and saw he had them too.
"I want to be friends." I said, looking down at the water.
I didn't hear a reply, just felt his hand around my waist, hugging me as best he could. I fell into his embrace, and realized how much I had missed him.