Page 42 of Don't Forget Me
Digging through Nick’s drawer, she found a clean, light blue t-shirt that fell to her knees when she exchanged it for the one she’d slept in. Then, she changed into a pair of loose shorts. It was enough. There was no one else in this entire dream world after all.
The house was dark with only bits of starlight shining through the high windows, casting shadows on the tile floors.
She walked the path she’d been on a million times before from the bedrooms to the back door, remembering all the times she’d sat outside at night by the fire her dad built with her mom by her side.
The cool night air wrapped around her as she stepped out onto the deck and lifted her eyes to the dark sky above. Only a sliver of moon was visible, but it wasn’t the moon she’d come to see.
“The stars promise us there’s always something more, Lizzy.” She could hear her mom’s voice so clearly. “That whatever pain we feel is only one part of life, never life in its entirety.”
It had been a hard concept for a teenager to understand, especially one who hadn’t yet experienced what her mom did.
The questions surrounding cancer.
The fear of losing to the disease, only overpowered by the fear of living with it.
The worry about the people she’d leave behind.
That was the worst part. The first time Elizabeth got sick, she hadn’t known how her dad would cope with losing her after already losing her mom.
But the second time… she didn’t want her kids growing up without a mom, she didn’t want them to forget her.
Forgetting was a funny thing. Not funny in the hilarious sense, but as one gets older, it becomes more prominent in their minds. When her mom died, she was sure with one hundred percent certainty she’d never forget a single thing about her. It was like a promise to herself.
Now, she could hardly picture what her mom looked like without the reminder of a photograph. She’d lost so many of the lessons, the words that had been important enough to say.
But there were some things that would never go away. Like sitting around a fire looking at the stars, or her mom waking her up to swim at dawn because the world was so quiet before the whir of boats invaded its silence.
“You’d like this, Mom.” Elizabeth lowered herself to the deck, pulling her legs in to rest her chin on her knees. Her mom would have loved being the only people near the lake.
“Do you see her?”
Nick’s voice startled Elizabeth, and she turned to find him watching her. Her gaze caught on the intensity in his eyes, and her mouth went dry. All she could do was shake her head.
Nick walked closer, his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “I see Stephen. Or at least, I have since arriving here.”
“Like… a ghost?”
He shrugged and sat beside her, nudging her knees with his. “I talk to him too.”
That answered that question. He’d heard her talking to her mom.
“I suppose you think we’re only seeing—or hearing—them because we want to,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t know. This situation is strange. Is it really any stranger to throw in our long-dead relatives?”
A laugh broke free of her at his bluntness. “I guess not.”
His shoulder bumped hers, and she looked sideways to catch the rare smile he flashed her. It was just short of an “I got lucky” smile, and she could have kicked him.
Or kissed him.
That was a better option.
“It’s normal, you know.” His breath brushed against her ear as he leaned over.
“What is?”
“Seeing dead people.”
