Epilogue

Mrs. Hooper, Luke’s parents, the school counselor … everybody thinks I need to talk to someone, work through the long spells of silence that consume me. So every Tuesday at 4:15 I sit in a shrink’s office, reciting the appropriate answers to his questions: Yes, I’m doing okay in school. Yes, I’ve come to terms with losing Luke. Yes, I’m going to start becoming more involved with friends and school.

His name is Carl, and he isn’t that bad. At least he doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. But that’s probably because I’ve done exactly as Mike instructed … I’ve lied.

Outside of talking to Mike, I never utter Elijah Hawkins’s name. It’s better this way, keeps me protected and out of Elijah’s reach. And out of his brothers’ reach. It’s not hard during the day, when I have school and Mike to distract me. But at night, when I wake up screaming and searching for Luke … well, that’s when my resolve falters.

Mrs. Hooper comes running into my room each time, begging me to talk to her. I’ve tried a few times, but the warning Jared delivered to me always stops me cold.

According to the doctors, the few memories we divulged while in the hospital were nothing more than delusions. Hallucinations brought on by severe concussions and trauma, or, in Mike’s case, the inability to deal with Luke’s death. They can all believe whatever they want; Mike and I know the truth.

I finally broke down and told Mike about my nightmares last week. He bought me a journal and told me to write my memories in there. I think he’s afraid I’m going to slip up and say something to my shrink or to Mrs. Hooper. I get that; sometimes I’m afraid I will too.

The journal is hidden beneath my mattress. Each night, when the nightmares overtake my dreams, I reach for it and furiously scribble down every detail I can remember. I never re-read my entries, just fill up page after page like my own diary of proof. Proof that no one but me will ever see.

The same people who insisted I see a shrink keep promising me that things will get better, get easier with time. I can pretend all I want, but no amount of time or distance, not even a gravestone bearing Luke’s name, can bring me peace. The only truth I know is that eventually the evil and darkness I struggled to escape will find its way back into my life … back into my soul.