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Fiction: One Year (317 words)

22 Jun

They stood close together, still outside the door of the mausoleum. They didn’t want to go in, but at the same time, they knew they had to go in. Dean put an arm carefully around Bess’s waist—knowing all too well that the psychological trigger of being here was going to make her leg hurt again.

It was a year to the day that Bess and Tay were sitting in a coffee shop, celebrating securing Tay’s wife’s favorite band for a surprise party, when a drunk driver went off the road and through the shops front window.  Bess had more broken bones in an instant than most people had in the entirety of their lives, but she made it out.  Tay wasn’t so lucky. He hadn’t even made it until the ambulance got there.

Bess often thought about how unfair it was.  Everyone told her it just survivor’s guilt, but she thought that it was just logic.  If Bess and Tay had entered a room, and only one could walk away, Logic dictated it was only fair that Tay be the one to walk.  He was married. He and his wife were trying for a baby.  He had brothers and sisters and a promising career lined up in front of him. His life was just beginning.

Bess, on the other hand…  Well, her mom would miss her, and it would suck to leave her mom alone, but Bess was single.  Bess’s dad and sisters had died before her.  Her dream job was making just enough money to live paycheck to paycheck, and she had no real desire to leave any lasting impact on the world. She should have been gone—Tay should have gotten to stay.

“We can come back—“ Dean offered, “We don’t have to go in now.  If you’re not ready for this.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”  Bess straightened up, and tried to smile.  “Let’s go see Tay.”

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Posted by on June 22, 2015 in Stories

 

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