Page 2 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

DANIEL

I have a mixed, complicated relationship with this time of the year.

It gets dark sooner, a little chillier at night, drags by excruciatingly slow, and reminds me of my brother.

He loved Christmas. It was his favorite time of the year.

Growing up, our parents didn’t let us believe in Santa Claus.

It’s not because they didn’t want us to believe in him, but they couldn’t afford to let us believe.

At the time, their business wasn’t doing well, so money was tight.

Instead of letting us wake up disappointed, they were honest and told us why we weren’t getting gifts.

It sucked, but somehow despite knowing what my siblings and I knew, my brother Adrian, who was a year younger than me, decided to keep believing he was real. I don’t know why, but my parents went with the flow. Eventually, their business grew and money started coming in and so did the presents.

“I told you Santa wouldn’t fail us,” Adrian would always say.

Even when he was old enough to know he didn’t exist, he’d jokingly still say it.

What I’d do to hear it again.

This time of the year is a reminder that he’s not here and Mom and Dad will never get their baby back. It’s also a reminder that I’m the reason why.

Dad hardly speaks to me, and Mom thinks I don’t see it, but I’ll catch her crying when she thinks no one is looking. And Penelope, my sister and Adrian’s twin, tries hard to look happy, but I can see right through her.

Which is why I left our family’s Christmas party early. I don’t belong there. I don’t deserve to be there.

I faked a smile, told everyone I was hanging out with friends, left my hometown, Yuba City, and drove almost four hours to Carmel-by-the-Sea.

No one stopped me; they never do.

I didn’t want to be at the house, the one I share with my four other teammates. They aren’t home, but the house is decorated and it’s not something I want to see right now.

That’s how I found myself parked at one of the trails and veering off its course. You’re not supposed to. They have ropes along the trail for a reason. Stepping away could be deadly, but I’d done it so many times, I wasn’t afraid of accidentally falling off the cliff.

I needed to clear my head and stop the dark thoughts consuming me. But they didn’t stop and then self-loathing came. They’re a destructive and deadly combination. They choked and submerged me under the murky water, until I was practically drowning.

But I stopped drowning once I saw her.

She was standing on the edge of the cliff, head hung low, arms limp by her side, and feet shifting in front of her.

I felt every morsel of my body shrink and run cold. I felt fear for the girl I didn’t know, who was ready to end it all.

I try to get the conversation going, but I’m grasping at straws. I’m internally panicking because she’s dead set on doing this. Even when I stand next to her on the edge, despite how petrified I am for my own reasons, I have no clue what to do.

I’d never touch a girl without consent, but I’m sure this is the only time anyone would ever approve. Quickly, I wrap my arms around her and step back. I almost trip over my feet and the rocks because of how fast I move us from the edge, but I don’t stop until we’re far enough away.

She’s either zoned out or hasn’t acknowledged what’s happened because the heels of her shoes scrape against the ground and her body hangs limply against my arms.

The realization at how defeated her body feels, makes my eyes sting.

I hold her, wishing I could take all her pain away. I hold her like my life depends on it. I’ll hold her until morning if I have to. I’ll keep holding her until I can’t any longer because how the fuck am I supposed to let go?

“Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go…” I repeatedly beg, hoping, praying, wishing she can hear me, understand me, and not let go.

“ Please don’t go,” I punctuate strongly but softly.

I plead with everything I’ve got because my words are all I have.

I don’t know what else to offer, what else to give to her in hopes she won’t go.

“Please, please, please don’t go.” My heart is close to imploding.

It’s so goddamn loud, I can’t hear anything but the beating in my ears. “Please don’t go.”

I lose and stop caring about the concept of time, about how dry my mouth becomes, and how scarily my heart is racing. I stop all together thinking about anything except for the girl in my arms who hasn’t moved.

She stays stock-still in my hold, or at least she was because she soon squirms against me. Her movements are slow, unsure at first, but then she jerks and twists forcefully, rapidly, angrily. Her shoulders ram into my chest, her nails dig into my arms, and her voice is flooded with fury.

“Let go!” she yells. I know I should, but I can’t.

“Promise me you won’t jump,” I eventually say because it’s all I can muster.

She grunts, still fighting against me. I’m hardly using any of my strength, and the thought sickens me at how easily and quickly the current would’ve taken her.

It happens all too fast: I let go and she takes two steps back.

My gaze drops down to my arm where she bit me and then at her.

“What did you do?” she shouts with anguish. “I didn’t ask you to save me! I didn’t want…” Her voice breaks, but she breathes heavy as if she were trying to mask her pain.

“No, you didn’t, but I wasn’t going to—” I stop mid-sentence as she approaches me.

Her strides eat up the space until she’s in front of me. I’m happy she’s not attempting to jump, but then I understand why.

She raises her fists and slams them against my chest. Over and over, she hits me, and I could stop her, but I don’t. I let her hit me. I let her take out all her anger on me.

“I was ready! I didn’t want to be here anymore!

What the fuck did you do! What did you do!

What did you do!” She delivers each blow with so much vehemence, but it’s not the anger I feel; it’s pain, so much pain.

I feel it in the way her guttural voice becomes high-pitched, the way her fists aren’t as heavy as they were, and the way her body sags.

“What…” She chokes on a sob, heaving as though her lungs can’t gather enough oxygen. “Did you do? Wh…at…”

The despair in her voice incinerates me whole. I go to grab her arms, but she collapses to her knees, burying her face behind her palms.

I drop to mine, reaching for her. Despite knowing I shouldn’t touch her, I do anyway. I snake my arms around her, carefully pulling her to me, and hold her.

She sobs uncontrollably into her palms, her body shaking aggressively against me.

I let her sadness encase us because it’s the only thing I know I can do. The only way to let her know she’s not alone.

“I couldn’t let you go.” I attempt to swallow past the thick lump in my throat, rubbing small circles on her back.

She attempts to speak, but her words only get drowned out by her violent sobs.

I blink a few times, hugging her as close as I can get her to me.

I hope I’m enough to anchor her, enough she can feel and understand that I’ll be her lifeline. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be if it means she’ll stay and not jump.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but after a little while, her sobs become hiccups and sniffles, and her body on occasion trembles beneath mine. She doesn’t move away; she remains in my arms.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice is raw and fragile, holding so much sorrow. Not even the water that continuously crashes against the cliffside can scare me this time.

“I couldn’t…” I weakly and pathetically offer because it’s the only thing I’m able to say. Because my mind is scarily playing her standing on the edge like a film stuck on repeat. I can’t shake off the what-if question in my head, wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come here.

A small part of me is angry at her. It wants to ask her—what the hell was she thinking? But the biggest part of me feels so hopeless. I have no idea what to do, what to give, what to say to make sure she stays.

When she pulls back, I hesitantly let go of her.

I trace her every move, my eyes vigilant and legs and arms ready to move with her, but she surprises me.

She sways to the side, sitting on her ass, legs bent, before she falls back until she’s lying down.

Then her legs slowly descend until they’re flat on the ground along with her arms.

I keep my eyes on her and she must know what I’m thinking because she lifts her head enough to look at me.

“I’ve lost the courage to do it.” She sniffles, her voice vacant. “I promise I’m not going to jump.” Then she drops her head, staring up at the dark sky.

I exhale, not realizing I was holding my breath, but still, I can’t shake off the weight on my chest. I relax my hands at my sides and decide to do the only thing I can think of: I join her.

Lying next to her, I look up at the sky, and am shocked by how many stars there are.

She must be thinking the same thing because in a hushed whisper, she says, “There’re so many.”

I turn my head to look at her and find her already staring at me. My mouth parts, but I close it, unable to gather a thought to say out loud.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that.” She sounds sincere as she shifts, now lying on her side to face me. “I thought…no one would be here.”

“Tell me your name.” It slips out of my mouth before I can put too much thought into it.

She doesn’t immediately reply and as the seconds stretch with heavy silence, I try to think of something else to ask, but all I’m hyper fixating on is her name.

“Josefine.”

“Josefine.” I mirror her position, lying on my side. “I’m here for you, Josefine.”

“You don’t know me.” A tinge of annoyance coats her words.

“Let me get to know you,” I desperately goad.

“There’s nothing to know.”

“There’s always something to know.”

“I promise there’s not.”

“Josefine, please…” I trail off, grasping for something else to ask. “Wh-what’s your favorite color?”

She sighs with exhaustion. “Yellow.”

Yellow.

“Just yellow, or is there a particular shade of yellow?”

“I’m not a big fan of neon yellow.”

No neon yellow.

“I wish you would have let me go.”

“I couldn’t.” I don’t know why, but I blindly reach for her hand and surprisingly when my fingers brush along hers, she lets me hold it. “I’m here for you, Josefine.”

I expect her to counter it with something, but she doesn’t. She breathes out a weary breath, and shifts to be on her back, but keeps her hand in mine.

Lying on my back, I squeeze her hand a few times, but I don’t let go. I stare up at the sky, the thought of her jumping still replaying ceaselessly in my head. Too afraid to spark something that could set her off, I opt for silence.

We stare up at the starry sky, and after a while, when I finally figure out what I want to say, I look at her, but her eyes are closed. She could be pretending or actually be asleep—I don’t know, but I don’t disturb her. I let her be, but I stay awake and watch over her.

I inwardly groan, lifting an arm to cover my face from the light. God, it’s so bright, why is it so bri…fuck.

I push up on my feet, feeling disoriented, and blink rapidly so that my eyes adjust. Once they do, I look around, searching for Josefine, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I carefully walk to the edge, but I don’t look over.

I think I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, but when I turn, everything comes to a screeching halt when I spot what looks like a yellow Post-it note on the ground where I was lying.

Quickly grabbing it, I feel like I can finally breathe when I read it.

Didn’t mean for you to witness that.

I promise I didn’t jump.

I don’t know how many times I reread it, and even though I believe she didn’t, my chest still feels heavy, and a sense of sadness washes over me.

Why didn’t I ask her for her last name? Why didn’t I give her my number?

Out of all the questions I could’ve asked, I asked for her favorite color.

Way to go, dumbass.