Instead of You(11)

I hated myself in that moment.

We walked into the living room and I saw my parents and Mrs. Wallace sitting around the table in the dining room attached to the kitchen. They all had coffee mugs sitting in front of them, and used tissues were scattered on the table.

“McKenzie,” Mrs. Wallace said, standing and opening her arms to me. I let her hug me, but honestly I was afraid I’d break her. She sounded fragile and I wasn’t sure how she managed to seem so put together. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“You scared us, baby,” my mom said, giving me a sad smile.

I took in a deep breath, then let it out, not sure what I was supposed to say next. I wasn’t even sure where we all went from here. I took one of the empty seats around the table. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I don’t think any of us have really processed this yet,” my dad offered. “But it’s important that Chelsea and Hayes know we’re here for them.” He looked at Hayes, who had stopped in the kitchen and was now leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m serious, Hayes. You need anything at all, you call us. That goes for you too, Chelsea.” Hayes gave a very slight nod of his head, indicating he’d heard my dad, but giving nothing else away, while Mrs. Wallace gave the saddest weakest smile I’d ever seen. She looked terrible, exactly how I’d imagine a woman who’d just been told her husband and son were dead would look.

Her hair, which had been pulled into a tight ponytail, was now just a loose bundle of hair at the nape of her neck with half her hair hanging around her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose a deep shade of pink, and her hands shook slightly as she lifted a tissue to it.

“I’m afraid to go to sleep,” she said quietly. “This was the last day they were alive.” Her voice dissolved around her words, quaking more and more. “If I go to sleep, I’ll wake up, and it will be the first day they’re both dead.” She dropped her head into her hands, crying in earnest, quiet sobs slipping from her. “I don’t want to live in the world I’ll wake up in tomorrow.”

The tears slipped down my cheeks before I realized I was crying. I hadn’t had any time to process what had happened, and suddenly it felt more real than it had before.

Cory was gone.

And he was never coming back.

I had never, not for one single day, gone without a best friend. Cory had always been there. From the beginning. And now I’d have to live the rest of my life without him. It was as though I had been reading a picture book and all the pages were in color, but now the rest of them were just dreary images in black and gray. What had once been a vivid depiction of a beautiful story, a story of a friendship so deep even the word friends couldn’t contain it, was now a dark charcoal, and each page seemed like it weighed a ton, dripping with wet concrete.

“What happened?” I asked quietly, not even positive I wanted to know the answer, but a large part of me needed to hear the words.

“Honey, we can talk about it later.” My mom took my hand, gave it a squeeze, and then shifted her eyes to Mrs. Wallace, raising her eyebrows. It occurred to me she didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

“Lucia, she deserves to know,” Mrs. Wallace said through sobs. “I’m okay.” She was definitely not okay, but I figured she was as okay as she was going to get that night.

“McKenzie,” my father started, his deep voice always soothing, “this is a pretty terrible story, and I don’t want you getting upset again. If you need me to stop, let me know.”

I nodded, having no other response. There were no appropriate words for this situation.

“Mark and Cory stopped at a convenience store on their way home from the bakery. They were at the counter, trying to buy lottery tickets, when a man entered wearing a hoodie and ski mask.”

Just listening to his words made my heart rate speed, thundering through my body, rioting through my veins like stampeding stallions. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on his words and not the way the room felt as though it was getting hotter.

“The man had a gun and demanded the employee behind the counter give him the money from the register. Instead of opening the register and just doing as the man asked, the employee pulled out a shotgun, but before he could shoot him, the robber fired first.” My father let out a shaky breath, his voice warbling like I’d never heard in my life. He was a tough guy; only a soft spot for his girls. My mom and I were spoiled by him: loved on, supported, protected. But other than that, he was tough as nails. “The man then turned his gun on Mark, shot him first, then immediately shot Cory after.”

Mrs. Wallace broke down, burying her face in her hands. Hayes walked over, knelt next to his mother, and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into him, crying into the space between his shoulder and his neck, her hands grasping at the back of his shirt.

My parents were both crying. My mother cried softly, wiping tears away every few seconds as they rolled down her cheeks. But my father cried silently, holding a tight fist to his mouth. Both were looking at me, watching and waiting for me to crumble.

“So, he just shot them? For nothing?” I asked, confused about every single part of what I’d been told. Confused about why any of this had to happen. Confused about why someone would just randomly shoot a father and son who hadn’t done anything to him at all. Confused about why it had to be Cory and his father. And although the confusion was so palpable, so real, it could have had its own seat at the table, it was slowly turning into anger. “Why would someone do that?”