AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Miss Patel, I have given you the facts, not perception. One piece of evidence to contradict your belief is that he attended your sentencing."
"No! He's dead!" My eyes clamp shut. "You're lying! Liars! Fucking liars!"
My fingers dig into the woolen fiber of the chair, shaking, tingling. Fucking liars.
"Jake. Died. Because if he was alive, he would be here! He'd do whatever he had to do to get to me. He loved me; he would never leave me behind. He promised!"
I'm panting, trying to block the fuzzy image creeping into my psyche, thanks to Doctor Shithead. "I wasn't even at my sentencing. How would I know if a dead man was there?"
"He is not dead. He was present at your sentencing, and so were you."
My eyes pop open wide. "What?"
"Consider the facts, Miss Patel. You're presence and Mister Haddon's is a matter of record. You were both accounted for during court proceedings."
I'm shaking my head, but the image won't fade. It's even clearer now, just like he's in the room with me. It's a lifeless portrait, a barely healing and still bleeding man who's too quiet. It looks like Jake in the corner behind Doctor Schumacher, but it's not my Jake sitting there with empty hands, it's just what my mind wants to see. A projection.
It's true that my life would be much easier of Jake were alive, but he's not.
He's not.
I felt the life slip from his body. I held him when his spirit departed. I felt him die and I died right along with him.
"He didn't make music. He didn't sign a record deal. He never went to California." I say to the conjured image. Realizing that I'm speaking to something no one else can see; I clamp my mouth shut.
"Miss Patel, what makes you think Mister Haddon never went to California?" Quiet Darren asks.
"My first lawyer had a copy of Max's deposition before the Grand Jury. He left his briefcase open on the table when he came to talk strategy. I only read the top page, but it told me enough.
"Max said, and I quote, 'she killed my best friend. He isn't going to California to sign a record deal. He can't even play guitar anymore. She ruined Jake at the best time of his life.'"
I sit forward, making my point. "If Jake were breathing, he would be making music."
"It's now or never for me."
My Jake is gone off to a better place.
I don't know if heaven exists, or if the next life or whatever is just another plane but wherever that place is, getting there means leaving here and never coming back. So I will find my way to him. He's waiting for me. I know it deep down. Bone deep.
I know it.
"Take some time to weigh the facts and reconsider, Miss Patel." The white haired doctor instructs.
"Can I go back to Canyon View, now?"
51
-Angel
The first song Jake ever wrote was called Hall Of Fire. He said it helped him deal with a lot of the issues he had with his dad leaving his mom. I always liked it. It sounded very upbeat, very punk rock. Analog Controller only ever played it at band practice, though.
That early tune comes back to me now, strong and loud.
I move to the far side of my cell, take up residence in the furthest corner, imagining I'm still seventeen, back inside Analog's rehearsal space, sitting on top of that broken amp, and watching. Singing along as Jake stares down at the notebook with the lyrics. He's strumming his guitar, crooning into the microphone.
Take hold of everything. We're gonna make a brand new start.
Give away everything. All I'll ever want is in your heart.
