The Secret 00.5 The Prelude of Ella and Micha by Jessica Sorensen
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
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got a bit intense, though in a good way, I think. I almost told him about Vegas, almost asked him to come with me. But the vodka got to me, and I fell asleep.
As my eyelids drifted shut, I silently vowed I’d tell Micha tomorrow when I was sober because I’m starting to realize how much I need him.
Then I got home and everything changed in a heartbeat.
I thought, since the rain had stopped, the night would remain all right, that the storm had passed and skipped over me this time.
But the storm was just waiting for me on the inside of my house.
My mother is dead.
My mother took her own life.
And the house is so quiet.
Because my father is gone.
He told me to come home.
Told me I was on mom duty.
Told me.
Told me.
Told me.
Yet I didn’t come back for over an hour.
As I stand in the doorway, staring at the bathroom floor that’s painted red with blood, the soundlessness of the house encompasses me.
Maybe I should make some noise. Break the silence. Break myself.
I think I screamed. Maybe. I’m not sure.
I finally cross the room and check her pulse, but the bathtub water is as thick as red paint, so I already know.
She’s dead.
And her skin is unbelievably cold.
Like the chill of the rain.
I blow out the most deafening breath as I walk back to the doorway and call the police with my phone. Then I wait. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe the rain to start up again.
Keep an eye on your mother.
She’s gone.
Keep an eye on your mother.
I knew I should have stayed home.
Keep an eye on your mother.
This is all your fault.
Somehow, within the next few minutes, Micha shows up and holds me. I don’t even know how he knows, but he does. He tells me it’s going to be okay, tells me he’ll take care of me.
“No,” is the only reply I can get out.
“This isn’t your fault,” he whispers, hugging me tightly. It’s like he knows what’s going on inside my head, always does.
“Yes, it is,” I say numbly. “It really, really is.”
This is all your fault.
“I don’t deserve to be held, Micha.”
He doesn’t let me go, even when the paramedics show up and take her out of the water. They seal her up in a body bag and wheel her lifeless body out toward the flashing red and blue lights. Then we follow them to the front lawn where I see my dad. He’s standing there, staring at the ambulance, crying, crying, sobbing.
This is all your fault.
I push away from Micha and stumble to my dad. I need to tell him I’m sorry for leaving, for not coming home, for not doing better. For being selfish. But when he looks at me, I already know that no amount of sorrys is ever going to cut it.
“This is all your fault,” he says, sounding more sober than he ever has before.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice getting lost in the wind.
“Just get in the car,” he snaps with tears in his eyes. “We need to go to the hospital.”
Nodding, I follow him up the driveway with my head hung low, ignoring Micha when he calls out to me.
I can’t look at him.
Right now.
Never again.
Look anyone in the eye.
After what I did.
I slide into the driver’s seat, my dad not well enough to drive. Then I follow the ambulance through the neighborhood and toward the bridge that exits the town and leads to the closet hospital.
As we cross over the darkened water, I remember the last time I was here. With my mother.
She said she could fly.
She believed that she was invincible.
But she wasn’t.
All because of me.
Chapter 10
2 weeks later…
Ella
I wish I could go back to the sprinkler days, those afternoons when Micha and I would run around his front yard, getting wet. Life was so simple back then, so promising. Nothing is promising anymore.
The funeral is unbearable, yet I manage to get through it, even when my brother Dean informs me that he blames me also. After that, I spend most of my days cleaning the house. It’s the only thing I can focus on that doesn’t make my brain feel like it’s
As my eyelids drifted shut, I silently vowed I’d tell Micha tomorrow when I was sober because I’m starting to realize how much I need him.
Then I got home and everything changed in a heartbeat.
I thought, since the rain had stopped, the night would remain all right, that the storm had passed and skipped over me this time.
But the storm was just waiting for me on the inside of my house.
My mother is dead.
My mother took her own life.
And the house is so quiet.
Because my father is gone.
He told me to come home.
Told me I was on mom duty.
Told me.
Told me.
Told me.
Yet I didn’t come back for over an hour.
As I stand in the doorway, staring at the bathroom floor that’s painted red with blood, the soundlessness of the house encompasses me.
Maybe I should make some noise. Break the silence. Break myself.
I think I screamed. Maybe. I’m not sure.
I finally cross the room and check her pulse, but the bathtub water is as thick as red paint, so I already know.
She’s dead.
And her skin is unbelievably cold.
Like the chill of the rain.
I blow out the most deafening breath as I walk back to the doorway and call the police with my phone. Then I wait. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe the rain to start up again.
Keep an eye on your mother.
She’s gone.
Keep an eye on your mother.
I knew I should have stayed home.
Keep an eye on your mother.
This is all your fault.
Somehow, within the next few minutes, Micha shows up and holds me. I don’t even know how he knows, but he does. He tells me it’s going to be okay, tells me he’ll take care of me.
“No,” is the only reply I can get out.
“This isn’t your fault,” he whispers, hugging me tightly. It’s like he knows what’s going on inside my head, always does.
“Yes, it is,” I say numbly. “It really, really is.”
This is all your fault.
“I don’t deserve to be held, Micha.”
He doesn’t let me go, even when the paramedics show up and take her out of the water. They seal her up in a body bag and wheel her lifeless body out toward the flashing red and blue lights. Then we follow them to the front lawn where I see my dad. He’s standing there, staring at the ambulance, crying, crying, sobbing.
This is all your fault.
I push away from Micha and stumble to my dad. I need to tell him I’m sorry for leaving, for not coming home, for not doing better. For being selfish. But when he looks at me, I already know that no amount of sorrys is ever going to cut it.
“This is all your fault,” he says, sounding more sober than he ever has before.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice getting lost in the wind.
“Just get in the car,” he snaps with tears in his eyes. “We need to go to the hospital.”
Nodding, I follow him up the driveway with my head hung low, ignoring Micha when he calls out to me.
I can’t look at him.
Right now.
Never again.
Look anyone in the eye.
After what I did.
I slide into the driver’s seat, my dad not well enough to drive. Then I follow the ambulance through the neighborhood and toward the bridge that exits the town and leads to the closet hospital.
As we cross over the darkened water, I remember the last time I was here. With my mother.
She said she could fly.
She believed that she was invincible.
But she wasn’t.
All because of me.
Chapter 10
2 weeks later…
Ella
I wish I could go back to the sprinkler days, those afternoons when Micha and I would run around his front yard, getting wet. Life was so simple back then, so promising. Nothing is promising anymore.
The funeral is unbearable, yet I manage to get through it, even when my brother Dean informs me that he blames me also. After that, I spend most of my days cleaning the house. It’s the only thing I can focus on that doesn’t make my brain feel like it’s
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