Chapter Five.

“And I’m trying, I promise. But I miss you every day,” she told him, she was positive he was listening to her.

She wiped away her tears and tried to smile. 

“Jace, are you okay up there?” she asked while running her hand over his headstone.

It was Sunday, she usually came here on Sundays to talk to him. To tell him about her week and everything.

She still remembered his funeral, it all felt so unreal.

She remembered watching his parents cry, she remembered hugging them. Telling them she was sorry. She remembered being told that it wasn’t her fault.

She remembered seeing a tall guy standing beside Jace’s grave, his back towards her.

He was probably his younger brother whom she never had a chance to meet.

She remembered everything.

She looked down at the scar on her forearm, there were a few scars on her body that left marks. They reminded her of that horrible night. The one on her forehead was nearly invisible now, but the rest were the same.

They didn’t hurt but the memories did, the nightmares did.

Her older sister had been her support in all of this, her sister, her parents, Faith, and all her friends.

But it seemed like she was disappearing on the inside, the pain was eating her up and nothing seemed to work at all.

Nothing seemed to stop it.

She smiled, she talked, she was friendly to everyone, but on the inside she was hollow.

Or full of pain.

She knew she needed help, but when her parents had offered her to go see a psychiatrist, she had refused.

Because she wanted to suffer.

She chose to suffer.

After she was done talking to him, she said her goodbyes and left the graveyard.

She felt lighthearted. Now as she had told him everything.

Just as she started walking towards home, she spotted a guy entering the graveyard. She stopped to take a look at him but failed to do so as his back was towards her.

But he seemed strangely familiar. He was tall, his hair was dark brown, and the way he walked matched the way, someone, she knew walked.

Camden.

She didn’t mean to pry but she was curious about why he was there

Well, of course, he was here to see someone, but who?

She instantly felt bad for him.

Losing someone wasn’t easy and she knew that better than anybody else.

She decided to try and be nice to him genuinely. 

Maybe he was fighting with himself just like she was.

But she didn’t want to believe all this, because it was just what she thought, maybe the truth was different than this.

Whatever it was, she hoped she could help him even though she was not okay. But it didn't hurt to help.

With this last thought, she turned and continued walking towards home.

At 5 p.m. sharp he was sitting in front of her on the study table’s chair. She was looking at him, it had been a whole week since they had started working with each other and the progress was remarkable, he was a good writer, even better than her, she thought.

He was writing something in his register. And she was staring at him creepily. She felt bad for him.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Lillian?” He asked, and she swiftly averted her eyes, pretending to read the script which had been written so far.

“I wasn’t.” How the hell did he know?

“Is there something you want to say?” He asked, now looking at her.

She shook her head.

“No, I was just wondering how your eyes look,” She lied. 

But shit, that made her look like a creep. Great.

She saw his lips form a little smile, the first-ever smile she had seen on him. Woah.

“Really?” He asked, she nodded. 

This was embarrassing. 

She expected him to brush out his hair from his eyes, but he didn’t. He continued writing in his register.

Rude. 

She felt comfortable with him now. He was a good guy; he wasn’t a creep or anything so that was okay.

Sometimes when they would be talking, she’d feel like she had known him for quite some time now, he reminded her of someone she felt she knew a long time ago but she couldn’t think of anyone.

Probably her mind was just playing games with her, or probably she was starting to get him now.

They had started becoming friends and it felt most natural. She didn’t feel awkward or nervous.

They were awkward around each other at first but then it was all okay, now they talked to each other without feeling awkward and that was great.

“I know you saw me yesterday.” He spoke, she who was writing in her register now, dropped her pen and looked at him.

“In the graveyard, I know. You’re probably curious about why I was there right?”

There he goes again reading my mind.

She thought, too shocked to even speak.

“Everything in a good time, Lillian. Trust me it’s always better that way,” he said, without waiting for her to confirm whether what he said was the truth or not.

But it was the truth, he was right. She was curious.

“I had a question about the play,” he said, she looked at him trying to clear her mind completely because she was scared, he might read everything she had on her mind.  Most of her thoughts were related to his invisible eyes.

“Shouldn’t Elle and James kiss in the interval, we’re nearing the interval so I guess it would be great if they do,” he said. She bit her lower lip.

“But shouldn’t they just kiss in the end? When Elle is...,” She left her sentence hanging, as she felt the tears forming in her eyes. This was way too hard than she had expected it to be.

Just thinking about Elle's death made her remember Jace.

“When she’s dying? I think that’s a great idea but there should be a kiss where both of them are alive and well, not on the brink of death don’t you think?”

He certainly had a point.

“Okay, if you come up with a scene do let me know. And if you want me to write that I’ll do that till tomorrow.” 

“I’ll write the scene tonight; trust me it’s going to be great.” She nodded at this.

She just hoped that she’d make it out alive, this scriptwriting was playing with her emotions and she had been controlling herself around him.

She was afraid that one day she might lose that control and he’d see what she was.

A person who was done with her life.