“My sweet, gullible girl. You were always the end goal.”
I always knew my life would end in some terrible tragedy. From a young age, I could feel the hands of death on my shoulders, like some sort of doomed massage. As such, I never let anyone get close to me. No friends, no lovers, just my close family and me. It was lonely, sure, but I was safest this way.
Josh was like me: quiet, artistic, and lonely. I was drawn to him. I found myself watching him as he walked from his house to the bus stop, which was the same as mine. We never talked to each other, never really even looked at each other. It was as if we were both in different bubbles of the world, and if the bubbles popped something cataclysmic would happen.
And yet, I found myself sitting by him on our bus every morning of junior year. We didn't speak but one time, when the bus driver drove through a red light and was T-boned by a pickup truck that was crossing the intersection. Josh and I were in the back, both listening to our respective artists when it happened. The impact sent me into the window—Josh was on the outside and rammed into me, the impact dislocating my shoulder. I don't remember blacking out, but I must have, because the next thing I knew I was being extracted from the bus and Josh was going in an ambulance. I remembered thinking: 'Is he going to die? Is this how I die?'
We both lived, by some miracle. Josh had broken his arm when he tried to brace himself against the window. I was in an arm sling and had a concussion from when our heads made contact. My mom made me write in a get well card for him, one that she would hand deliver to his door as a sign of good nature.
As it turned out, my mom and his dad were classmates in elementary school. It's funny how fate works that way. They both reconnected instantly: he had moved away the summer before sixth grade, and my mom had stayed in the same small town we lived in. He met Josh's mom in middle school, they began dating in high school, and she had died in a giant car pile up two winters ago.
I was wary when my mom and his dad started dating, of course. It had always just been my mom and me. My dad was never in the picture, and I was "too off putting" for any man my mom had dated since then. I tried to be excited for her. I wanted this to work out for her, I swear I did.
"Don't ruin this for me, Kayla. I really like him. Just… Don't be weird, okay?"
I won't lie, a part of me died that day. We didn't really talk much after that, at least as much as we used to. Which, I'll be honest, wasn't very often. I was too busy on my laptop signing petitions and working on homework to acknowledge she was home most days.
It was the Thursday after when I got the email that changed everything. I was looking for a link from a petition I wanted to sign when the message popped up in the bottom corner. At first I thought it was spam, or some prank that the girls at school were doing. But, I looked closer at the username and gasped before ultimately opening the message.
Hey, I know we haven't talked at all. I just wanted to thank you for the card. I got your email from your mom by the way. I though this would be the less creepy way to contact you, you know? Anyway, I'm not expecting a response. Just wanted to say hi.
I think I stared at the message for half an hour before I ever typed back.
No need to thank me. I'm glad you're okay. That was pretty traumatizing, huh? I'll be honest, I wasn't ever expecting to hear from you, but I'm glad I did. Let's do this more often, if you want.
For the next two months, we both talked to each other everyday online. We never talked in person, but I didn't mind much. I liked online chatter more than the in person kind. It didn't feel as forced for me, and I was able to figure out my responses before it happened. And Josh didn't ever seem like the talkative type anyway, so there was no pressure with him.
Meanwhile, his dad proposed to my mom. I thought it was rushed, obviously. After all, they'd only been dating for a month and a half. I kept my opinions to myself, however. My mom was happy for the first time in my entire life. And besides, they'd known each other for decades, so I guess it was fate that brought them together.
Mom and I moved into a house with them across town that summer, as both of our respective houses were too small for the four of us. Josh was still aloof and quiet, something that started to bother me. The emails stopped, too, which I expected. I couldn't lie, though, I missed our conversations. I also missed the idea of him I had in my head. He was messy in real life. My mom had to get onto him about picking up after himself in common areas such as the living room.
He was also… creepier than I expected. I couldn't count how many times I caught him just staring at me. Any time we were on different sides of the room, I could feel his beady eyes on my body. It made me squirm being under his prolonged gaze. I found myself wishing I know what he was thinking, for the look on his face that accompanied his stare spelled nothing but trouble and left me feeling uneasy long after he'd leave the room.
His dad was fine, I suppose. He wasn't as creepy as his son was, at least. He also respected my privacy and didn't expect me to talk to him, which was nice. Above all else, he was nice to my mom. That was the most important to me.
It was a week before school started again. Josh and I's senior year. I was listening to music softly, sitting in the chair with my bathrobe and pajamas on, when another email came to my inbox. It was Josh again. From what I could recall, he was at his uncle's house helping out on his farm, and his phone was in his room. Curiosity got to me, and I opened the message.
I'm at the park. Something's wrong.
Panic rose in my chest. This was a prank, right? I emailed back:
What are you talking about?
A couple minutes passed, and then his response.
I drove Uncle Hank's truck to the park and wrecked it. I don't have a way back. Can you help?
I sighed. I had just gotten my permit, so I wasn't supposed to be driving by myself. However, if I said no, he'd be stranded.
Okay. Give me five minutes.
I didn't bother changing clothes. I pulled off the robe and put on my sneakers before sneaking to the front door. I got in my mom's red pick up and drove under the speed limit to the park that the locals played sports at.
As I drove around, I found Hank's truck sticking out of the woods. I parked in a nearby spot and turned off the headlights, exiting the truck and breathing in the warm August night air.
"Over here," a voice called back.
I entered the woods, pushing through the branches until I reached a clearing by a small creek. A twig snapped behind me, and I turned around expecting Josh. I gasped upon seeing the driver from earlier in the year. The same driver that T-boned our bus all those months ago.
"Hello, Kayla," he said, his voice so deep it vibrated in my bones and made me shudder.
"W-where's Josh?" I asked. A gust of warm wind blew through the clearing. I held my arms in order to comfort myself. What happened to Josh?
"Josh is at Hank's. It's just you and I now. It's been just you and I this whole time."
The pit in my stomach grew deeper. My voice was stuck in my chest. It clawed at my throat like a cat to a scratching post, begging to be free so it could scream so loud the world woke up. But it didn't. And I didn't move. Not until he moved closer to me, slowly, like a lioness hunting its prey.
The man stopped before me, the alcohol on his breath bursting through my nostrils, and let out a sinister chuckle.
"My sweet, gullible girl, you were always the end goal," he said.
I always knew my life would end in some terrible tragedy. Days later, some fishers found my body in the lake, floating and bloated. The police took my computer and Josh's, and they found the emails. He was taken into custody, and he faces the death penalty for something he didn't do. Josh wasn't the one who applied to a bus driver job in our school district. He wasn't the one who paid the bus driver to run the light that day. He wasn't the one who stole my contact information from the school's website. The bus driver, was still in jail for the accident, was the one who stole Josh's phone from his backpack and used his email, changing the password so he could get in and give it to the other driver.
I can't lie, I enjoyed my time in the afterlife. Soon, my soul will be recycled and I will get the chance to do things differently this time. I hope Josh knows I miss him. Maybe we'll end up in the next reality together. I'll be sure to actually talk to him this time.
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