Page 4 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

JOSEFINE

An endless loop. That’s what every day feels like.

The days of the week have all blended together. I can’t differentiate what day is what. Night and day are one, and I feel chained to the middle, not being able to experience either but watching them regardless.

It feels like I’m sitting in front of a television, watching my life play out. It’s all slow, excruciatingly so, but everyone and everything around me are all moving too fast. I can’t keep up.

That’s why I wanted to end it all.

I felt no purpose, no energy to continue moving on when I physically and emotionally felt like I was at a standstill.

I kept waiting to feel a spark of life, to remind me that I was worth being on this earth, but as I mulled over that thought, I realized whatever spark I was waiting for to happen, wasn’t ever going to happen.

I couldn’t feel anything, and I realized I was done trying to fight living when I acknowledged that I’d be better off dead. I wallowed in the void of nothingness and walked to the cliff, but then Daniel showed up and pretended to care.

That pissed me off because I hadn’t been scared to fall, but he showed up and I felt terror rush through my body.

It creeped and spread until I was cloaked in a veil of anxiety, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

Because I thought about him and how scared he had been for me even though he didn’t know me.

I have no desire to jump because now I’m scared, but I’m mad because I don’t feel anything and I’m still alone.

Water splashes on my face, recentering my focus on my task and not the metaphorical television in front of me.

“How was that?” the excited, high-pitched voice asks.

Wiping the specks of water from my face, I force a small smile. “You did so good, Sam. I can tell you’ve been practicing.”

The tiny eight-year-old attempts to hold on to the foam kickboard with one hand and with the other raises a thumbs-up in her mom’s direction. Her mom, who’s sitting on the lounge chair, beams brightly and lifts her own thumb in return.

“I’m doing good, Mommy!” Sam yells.

“I see that.” She smiles warmly at her. “I’m proud of you.”

I tilt my head, watching the little interaction and wondering what that must be like. Having a mom who genuinely cares.

My mom is dead so I shouldn’t wonder. I’ll never experience it, and even if she wasn’t, I still wouldn’t.

“All right, I think that’s it for today, but I think next week, we can maybe attempt to swim without the board.”

Sam’s eyes go round, fingers turning white from how tightly she’s clutching the kickboard. Her gaze drops to what’s keeping her afloat, then shifts back to me with fear.

“I-I don’t think I’m ready.” She hugs the board as if she were afraid I’d snatch it out of her hands.

“You want to know a secret?” I stoop down so that our eyes are level. Hesitantly, she nods. “I used to be scared too.”

It’s a lie because I have no recollection of me learning how to swim. As far as I can remember, I’ve always known how. But I’m not going to tell her that.

She gasps, staring at me in disbelief. “No way.”

“Yes way. I carried my floaties everywhere I went.”

“How did you stop using them?”

“I was told I couldn’t swim with the mermaid if I used them.”

She gasps again, her eyes almost popping out her sockets, but they sparkle nonetheless with excitement. “Mermaid? There’s a mermaid?”

“Did you not hear? They have a mermaid at the Carmel Aquarium, and they allow little girls like you to swim with her. Only you can’t use the floaties or life jackets because they keep you from going underwater. But if you’re not ready to?—”

“No, no, I’m ready. I’m so ready!” she voices with determination, but a tiny squeal slips past her lips before she can conceal it.

Her mom chuckles. I brought it up to her before the swim lesson just to make sure it was all right. The last thing I’d want is to get Sam’s hopes up.

I didn’t know the Carmel Aquarium had a mermaid or that they allowed people to swim with her until a few weeks ago. It’s one of their newest attractions and something all the little girls in the city have been going crazy over.

Once the lesson is over and Sam and her mom are out of my house, the smile I’d been wearing from the moment they walked in instantaneously drops.

I thought getting out of bed was tiring, but forcing a smile completely wears me out. I wish it didn’t because the rest of the day, I’ll feel spent. I already feel it now. The exhaustion is spreading quickly around my body, and now it feels heavy.

I want to lie down, but I don’t because my stomach grumbles, reminding me I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.

I woke up late, and by the time I was ready, my first client of the day had arrived for their lesson. When it was over, I checked my pantry and immediately noticed it was empty. I could’ve ordered something, but I booked myself back-to-back.

Why did I do that? Because I hate myself.

I needed a distraction from the emptiness. Because that leads to decisions I can’t take back.

Like my decision to almost kill myself over a week ago until Daniel decided to play hero. I could still do it, end my life, and no one would notice but Daniel’s incessant— please don’t go —words, echo in my head.

They occur abruptly and randomly. That’s the only reason why I haven’t ended it all. Why I’m still here despite how fucking lonely I feel.

My grumbling stomach disrupts my thoughts, drawing me back to reality and the droplets of water falling onto the hardwood floor. I grimace and quickly grab something to wipe them up.

Once I’m done, I throw something on and head out to the grocery store.

I didn’t expect to still be alive, hence why I have nothing in my house to eat.

I’ve not had it in me to cook, and I still don’t.

Though I won’t be doing much cooking because I don’t know how.

I never needed to know, so I never made it a goal to learn.

Going to the grocery store feels like a blur and is draining. I don’t remember putting my groceries in my car, or placing the cart where it belongs, or driving out of the parking lot.

I feel like I’m working on autopilot. At least I am until a loud pop goes off and my car swerves left and right. It takes me a second to register what has happened. When I finally get a hold of the wheel and manage to pull over to the shoulder, I drop my head on the steering wheel.

Huffing out a loud breath, I absently reach for the hazard lights, and once I hear the soft ticking, indicating they’re on, my hands fall to my lap and I close my eyes.

I should move or do something. It’s dangerous sitting here, but I don’t. I stay in my spot, waiting to feel something. I’d welcome being scared or nervous, but my heart doesn’t pound heavily, and my hands don’t sweat. Nothing happens.

The sound of a worried voice and light tapping on my window gets me to sit up straight. “Hey, are you okay? I was behind you. That was wild.”

Looking to the left and out my window, I see a girl standing on the other side, a concerned look etched on her face.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I lift a thumbs-up. Expecting her to leave, I drop my head back on the wheel, but then I hear the tapping again.

“Do you need help changing your tire?”

No. I don’t know how to cook eggs, so I definitely don’t know a thing about tires, but I don’t tell her that. I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out. YouTube always does the trick.

“I got it,” I reply, lifting my head.

“Do you have a tire jack?”

Fuck, what is that? “Uh…”

I shouldn’t have sounded unsure because she grins like she’s figured out I have no clue how to change a tire. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“You really—” I softly groan, lowering my window. “You really don’t need to do that. I can call a tow truck. I’m good. You can leave.”

She doesn’t seem offended at my dismissive words. If anything, she scoffs like my statement is absurd.

“Are you crazy? It’s about to be nine p.m., it’s dark as shit, and you’re a girl. I’m not leaving you alone, and you don’t need to call a tow truck. My brother can come help you.”

“No, that’s really not?—”

“I’ve already texted him. He’s on his way.” She lifts her phone, showing me the text message exchange between the two.

My lips slightly twitch at the contact name: Favorite Dumbass .

“You really didn’t have to?—”

She stops me mid-sentence. “You don’t watch true crime, do you? Or the news?”

“Not really,” I admit. My life’s tragic enough.

“Mmm,” she tsks, shaking her head. “Well even if you don’t, you shouldn’t be alone. It’s dangerous for us girls. We gotta stick together.”

“Right…” I trail off, unsure of what else to say to that. I know girls should stick together and I know about the dangers. Just never had someone so insistent to stay besides Daniel.

“Do you want to wait in my car? Yours is a lot closer to the road than mine. It’s really dangerous for both of us to be here. Someone could hit us.”

I hesitate because as thankful as I should be, I don’t know her.

She must sense that because she says, “Sorry. Stranger danger. We don’t have to wait in my car; we can stand off to the side, but we shouldn’t be here. Someone could hit us.”

She’s right and while I wouldn’t mind it, I’d hate for something to happen to her because of me. So, I shut off the ignition, grab my phone, step out of my car, and stand off to the side with her.

When we’re far away enough, I take a glance at the busted right back tire. There’s no way I would’ve been able to change that or even have known where to begin.

“Sorry. I never introduced myself.” The headlights from her car illuminates her face, showing off a friendly dimpled smile and straight long hair. “My name’s Penelope, but some people call me Pen. You can call me whichever, I really don’t care. But please don’t call me Penny.”

“Again, you didn’t have to stay, but thanks, Penelope.”

“Please don’t make me fight you. I know we don’t know each other, but stop saying that.”

I nod. “Josefine.”

“Do you shorten it, or is it just Josefine?”

“I’ve been called Josie, but if you want, you can just call me Josefine.”

“No way, Josie is so freaking cute. I love that name. If you don’t mind, I’d love to call you Josie.”

“That’s fine.” I internally wince, hating how awkward I am.

She either doesn’t sense it or does and doesn’t care. She proceeds to talk when her gaze coasts to my chest, eyes focused on the MCU Swimming I let her believe it will.

“And that’s so cool and such a smart way to make money. You know my broth?—”

She stops halfway, when a light gray Acura pulls up in front of my car.

“That’s him. I promise he’ll have your tire changed in no time. He’s good at this kind of stuff.”

“Not just good, but the best,” I hear an arrogant voice say from behind me.

I tense, the hairs on the back of my neck raising. A shudder races down my body at the familiar voice. The very same one that pleaded and begged me to stay a few days ago.

She rolls her eyes at her brother, Daniel. The guy who pulled me back before I ended it all. The guy who held me while I broke down. The guy who watched the stars with me. The same guy who gripped me all night like his life depended on it.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” She smiles at him, but it drops when another guy approaches us.

“Yeah, of course.” He and the other guy stand between us. Daniel’s gaze is on Penelope before it peers down to me. “You’re in the best…” His voice wanes, and when our eyes lock, his brows furrow. “Hands.”

Surely, he doesn’t recognize me. He will when he hears my voice maybe or my name, but he hardly saw my face. Unless he already forgot about me. I’m pretty forgettable, I’ve been told.

“Oh God, don’t say that to Josefine. Damn, Danny, who raised you?”

“Josefine.” He exhales a breath that feels both relieved and frustrated. But the expression on his face is impassive, so I can’t really tell what he’s thinking. Or whether he’s thinking anything at all. “Josefine.” This time around, he sounds more relieved than frustrated, hopeful even.

Please don’t go. I hear his frantic words echo in my head.

Penelope’s eyes bounce between him and me. “Wait, do you two know each other?”

“No,” I quickly say, as he counters with, “Yes.”

“Oh, ooooh…” She slowly nods as though she is piecing everything together.

But she’s got it all wrong, and just as I’m about to correct her, Daniel does.

“Not like that, idiot. We met…the other night. Midnight, Christmas Day.” It feels like he’s saying it more to me than to her.

My tire blowing out didn’t cause my heart to race, but his words do?

“I’m assuming you two met on campus?” At Daniel’s confused expression, she explains, “She also goes to MCU.”

“So happy you’re all catching up, but we should really change this tire. It’s dark and you all know how shitty the drivers are here, so we need to get started,” the guy whose name I don’t know says.

I know all about shitty drivers, and maybe it’s what I want to happen, but thinking of them getting hurt dissolves the thought.

“Right, yeah, we should.” Daniel clears his throat. “We’ll need to grab the spare. All we’ll need you to do is hold the flashlights.”

“Can you do that, or will that be too heavy for you?” The guy directs that question to Penelope, and it sounds a little condescending but also like a tease.

“Angel, the year just started. I thought your New Year’s resolution was to be less annoying?”

“Must be confusing yours with mine.” Angel smirks, winking at her.

“Don’t start,” Daniel chides, his gaze straying to mine, but I look away.

The crack in my chest deepens, but oddly enough, there’s no ache behind it. I don’t ponder over why. Instead, I hold the flashlight just like he instructed.