I cried like that in a forest. Full body sobs, racking your body and carrying so much oxygen into your lungs you think you might either pass out or throw up. Rose didn’t throw up, but I did. Moved just in time to not do it over Isaiah’s grave.

I’ve never told anyone that before. That I broke down. Before I saw the Unusuals for the last time, I fell apart. I wonder now if some part of me, deep down, knew that I had already said goodbye to them. That maybe that’s why I didn’t cry even one tear as I drove away from Los Angeles.

I wanted to comfort her. Hug her. I can’t remember the last time I hugged someone.

I don’t want to be this person anymore. I told her that two months ago and I meant it then. I want to be someone else. I want to be someone who would have comforted Rose without hesitation. Who would have known exactly what to do, how to soothe her, what to say to make things better.

I want to be the person that would have known how to comfort you. How to take care of you. How to love you.

I don’t want to be me anymore. And maybe that’s a choice I have.

LATER

I slept for a few hours before waking up from a nightmare of running through hallways, never finding an exit. I tiptoed downstairs to get water, grateful that the house was pretty much empty. Our parents were away for the long weekend, getting some much needed R&R for the both of them (probably one of the reasons I even considered joining Damien, the fear of my parents being away and something horrible happening to them while they were gone driving me to act without thinking), and Aaron had been fast asleep when I came home.

When I got downstairs, I discovered he wasn’t asleep anymore. I didn’t even make it to the kitchen, Aaron’s voice from the living room stopping me in my tracks.

“Where the hell have you been?” he said, his voice quiet and unfeeling. A very bad sign. I decided not to pretend he didn’t already know everything.

“Why don’t you tell me?” I said.

“Rose,” he started, clearly putting a lot of effort into keeping his voice calm, but the use of my actual name told me everything about his state of mind. “How could you be so stupid?”

“I had to try,” I said, and that seemed to wake something in Aaron and he was up from the couch and pacing in the span of a blink.

“Look, I know that we’ve both been going through a lot with what’s happening with Dad,” he said frantically, “but breaking into the AM with a known criminal?! You really thought that was the best idea?”