Give me a freakin’ break.
I sit there on the edge of an unnamed road in the middle of an unknown forest. I shut off my bike, and then I wipe the tears away from my face. They make me angry. The feel of them. Streaming down my cheeks as I’m riding on my motorcycle. That’s so not cool. That’s so not how to ride a bike.
I climb off and head to the edge of the trees towering over me.
I don’t want the sky to see me.
Just in case.
Just in case they’re looking down. They—whoever they may be.
I let it out for just a few minutes.
I let it out, realizing the truth.
Oli was protecting me and Kelsey, and that was it. And now he’s dead.
I don’t care what anybody else says—he didn’t just drown.
Get control, Chris. Get control, and get over it.
When I leave this cursed place, I’m going to be a master of my mind and soul. A master at being able to let things go or at least bury them deep inside.
My eyes burn, and I wipe the silly, stupid tears away.
I think of Oli.
Oliver Mateja.
A part of me wants to know his story—his real story, the story behind why he chose to help me out when it meant abandoning his friends.
Why would he do that?
And this is what it got him. This is what happens when you stick your neck out for others. You find yourself at the bottom of a lake.
But not you, Chris. You’re special. You’re different.
Then the words spoken by Jeremiah Marsh seem to whisper in my ears.
“We can live and die afraid, or we can live to defy, Chris. It is up to you.”
I don’t get it. I don’t understand.
All we have is ourselves. That’s all. Nobody else is looking out for you. Nothing is there to come and save you and defeat the evil monster.
I hear a rustling in the woods. For a second I think—no, I hope—that it’s the bluebird I used to see at Iris’s place and shortly after the fire. But I haven’t seen the bluebird in a long time.
Something’s in the woods—I know it. I can feel it.
But it’s bigger than a bluebird. Bigger, and probably meaner.
Every man for himself.
And this man decides enough’s enough. The pity is over.
The party, however, is just about to start.
It’s called letting go.