Accidentally on Purpose

Chapter Fifty-Five

He pressed his eyelids shut and shook his head, probably trying to process it all. He was quiet for a few seconds, and I wanted to take his hand and drag him inside the house, but I wasn't sure if he was in the mood to be touched by me right now. "Why did you have to lie to me about it?" he asked once he had opened his eyes.

"I never lied to you," I answered. "That was just—that was just one thing. Everything that happened after that was out of my hands. I never—I never expected you to ever like me back." There was a look in his eyes that I couldn't read. "And then—and then this happened and I don't know what to think."

"I don't either," he murmured, but mostly to himself. To me, he asked, "And now, do you regret ever doing that? Do you regret wanting to know me and—and finding out that I was—that your accident..." he trailed off and looked away from me with a small shrug.

I answered honestly, "No, I don't." He looked at me in surprise. "But what about you? Are you mad at me about it?"

He paused. "I don't know. I'm just... confused."

I nodded. "Okay."

"I think—I think you were right before, about taking a bit of space from each other," he told me quietly, avoiding my eyes once again to look at the shirt in his hands. "To... think."

I bit my lip. "Okay," I repeated.

"I need to... figure out—" he let out a strained laugh and finally looked at me. "And I need to go home before I freeze to death."

I wordlessly nodded at him, and he stared at me for a while with this look on his face as if he was trying to solve a puzzle, and then he shook his head and lifted up the shirt.

"I should probably take this since it's, well, mine."

I nodded again.

He turned around and started to walk down the stairs of my front porch, only to stop mid-way and turned around again. "Were you ever going to tell me? About this?"

I didn't answer for a while, and then I answered honestly, "I don't know. Sometimes I don't even remember that I did that."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright."

I watched as he disappeared into the thunderstorm that had turned into a light rain, watching as he made a turn and never once looked back.

[]

Tall trees. Empty road. Light snow falling onto the ground. Everything was exactly the same.

But this time, I didn't see a car coming toward me.

It wasn't a car that I crashed into.

It was a boy with his gray eyes staring at me yards away in the middle of the road, stiff and unmoving even as my car got nearer, and the next thing I knew, he was on the ground with red all over his chest, staining the white shirt he was wearing.

And I heard the sound of my own scream.

I stuffed my fist into my mouth, feeling my teeth nearly tearing my skin apart, and my whole body shook like an earthquake. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't say anything, I couldn't stop crying.

Because as usual, the nightmare felt so real.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. I curled up into a ball on my bed, shaking from the silent, suppressed cries, and I struggled to get enough air to breathe. My chest hurt from how hard I was gasping. I couldn't erase the image of what the nightmare had left me with. I killed him, I killed him I killed him I killed him but I didn't, but it felt like I did.