Find You in the Dark

raised her eyebrow, which was so much like Clay, and didn't bother to respond. She turned on her heel and walked back into the ICU.
    And just like that the door to my relationship with Clay slammed firmly closed in my face. I was crushed and my body literally sagged in defeat, feeling an immeasurable weight pressing down on me. “Thank you for trying, Mom.” I said as she gathered me to her. “What a horrible woman. Poor Clayton. No wonder he struggled so.” That was the nicest thing my mother had ever said about Clay. She held me close against her as we left the hospital. My father on my other side, and my two best friends following close behind. We all piled into my family's minivan, and I tried to stop the tears as I watched the hospital, and Clay, disappear behind me.
    “I need to go back to the motel and get mine and Clay's things.” I said as my dad pulled out onto the road. “I don't know if that's a good idea.” My mom sounded concerned. I leaned forward and gripped the seat. “Please, Mom. I need to do this.” My mom and dad didn't pose any more arguments. And when we pulled up to the Motel 6, my parents and friends accompanied me into the tiny room that held my last good memories of Clay and I together.
    I felt like he had died, because I knew I wouldn't be allowed to see or talk to him for a very long time. At least not until Clay was able to make those decisions for himself. I wanted to be confident in the belief that he would contact me as soon as he was able. But I couldn't be sure and that made the hollow feeling that was building in my chest nearly intolerable. Clay had looked so broken when I left. I wasn't positive he would ever be a part of my life again.
    “Shit.” Rachel breathed as she took in the destroyed room. No one said anything as I pulled out Clay's duffel bag and started gathering the clothes that he hadn't shredded and stuffed them inside. I went into the bathroom and almost lost it at the sight of the dried blood on the floor. I closed the door and fell to my knees and let loose my pain. I cried for Clay, for myself, for the future together that we would never have. I put a clean towel under the tap and then got on my knees and scrubbed. I wanted to wipe up every last drop of his blood; as though that would erase the horrible memories of him lying motionless in my arms as I struggled to keep him with me – to keep him alive.
    I must have been in there for quite awhile, because my mom came in and found me furiously wiping the floor. “Honey, you can leave that. That's enough.” She said gently, yet I couldn't stop. I wet the towel again and got back on my knees and scrubbed some more. “Maggie. Please, just leave it.” She got down on the floor with me and put her hands over mine. I looked up into her eyes that were filled with love and concern. “You don't have to do this. Leave it here.” I knew that she meant more than the blood. I dropped the towel and let her take me out of the bathroom. Daniel picked up the duffel bag and we closed the door to the motel room. I left the key card outside on the stoop.
    Rachel rode beside me on the way home, squeezing my hand every so often. I let my head drop to her shoulder and my best friend stroked my hair as we finally made our way back home.

Epilogue

    “Maggie, can you bring me the bag of salt from the garage?” My mother called from the front door. I got up off the couch and made my way to the foyer. My mom was covered in fresh snow and I could see it falling from the late January sky behind her. “I think your dad put it up on the shelf. Hurry up, this snow won't shovel itself.” I pulled on my boots and thick wool coat. I stuffed my hands into a pair of gloves and went outside, then around to the side of the house toward the garage.
    Two months and I was still trying to feel normal, like I still fit inside this life that I had once called mine. My parents kept me busy. My weekends were now filled with shopping trips and movies. My parents had decided to try their hand at some home improvements and enlisted my help in figuring out how to hang drywall and use my mother's ancient sewing machine to make curtains.
    Christmas had been hard. I had expected to hear something from Clay, but the holiday came and went. Nothing. Just silence. I tried to hide the hurt I felt, but I wasn't fooling anyone. Rachel and Daniel had been glued to my side for the entire winter break. Even though they were a little suffocating, I