MY STORY - CONTINUED!
HERE IS THE SECOND PART OF THE THIRD CHAPTER! ENJOY!
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"For the first few days both she and Mr. Winters demanded to know who was driving the other car that caused the accident. They wanted someone to blame. Anyone at all. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Winters blamed us all, even you. She said that if you had never been in the picture then there would have been no wedding for Andrew to arrive at and he might still be alive. Mr. Winters sternly told her that it was not your fault. That she couldn't blame love over a death. It wasn't you who was driving that other car. So, then Mrs. Winters blamed Mr. Winters, saying that if he had made Andrew come with him then he would still be here instead of leaving later with his friend. She even blamed Stephen Collins, Andrew's friend, the one who was driving. But, then, you can't blame someone who is not alive to defend himself. "She finally realized that nobody was to blame so she blamed herself. It was terrible at first. She was so distant I thought I would have to call Dr. Richards. She stayed in her room for days, just as you had, refusing to talk to a soul, refusing to eat. I figured she was done for but for no reason at all she got up one day and went about almost as though nothing had happened. Although, she isn't the same as she was before. She is much quieter and even a little more nicer. It really is odd. I am waiting for her to snap again." She dropped her voice, whispering. "I am a little scared, however. I wish she would return to her old self, so that I know for sure that she really is okay. Do you understand?" I nodded, drinking in everything she had just told me carefully. It was odd. Mrs. Winters nice? Quiet? That was impossible. I felt a little bit upset that she had blamed me though. How could she even think to blame me after all I had suffered? "Mr. Winters on the other hand, as been more or less strong throughout the whole ordeal, "she said, continuing. "Don't get me wrong, he is hurting just as badly as everyone else, but he shows it differently. At first, he wanted to blame a lot of people too but then he would retreat to his study and bury himself in work. He only stopped long enough to speak to clients and people from his office and work. He wouldn't have a civil conversation with anyone. But," she added quickly, "he is doing much better now." "I'm glad to hear that." I lied. I wasn't glad. I wanted everyone to be as miserable as I still felt. I know that is selfish but that was how I felt at that moment. For some reason I wanted to get off the topic for now. It was all I had thought about for days on end and it was beginning to take it's toll on me again. I stood up. "Would you like something to eat or drink?" I offered Hannah. She scurried to her feet. "That would be lovely. Thank you, I'd like that.." She took my arm and we walked towards the house. An hour later Hannah realized that I looked tired and said she really must be going. It had been a nice afternoon despite how we both felt. We talked a little about Andrew and surprisingly it made me feel better. Hannah and I brought up some silly things Andrew had done and we were both laughing in a matter of minutes. I had forgotten what it felt like to laugh like that. Soon we changed to idle chatter, discussing what was going on in the world like we used to. I was so far behind in the news that Hannah was more than glad to fill me in. It wasn't until she arose to leave that I realized how much I had needed her company. For the first time in weeks I almost felt normal again. All the pain I felt had subsided somewhat, and helped me to forget my sadness, if only for a while. Talking to Hannah about life and Andrew hadn't been as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it helped. It made me remember all the good things I had shared with Andrew without feeling guilty that I was still alive and he wasn't. Now I cannot lie and say that the afternoon with Hannah made me change completely. I did not become a person strong enough to go on and forget overnight, but I can say that it helped me to understand a few things. Things about death, and living a full life, and going on. I felt a little better from her visit that as she headed towards the front door, I reached over to kiss her cheek and give her a big hug. "Thank you, Hannah, for stopping by. It means a lot to me." "Your're welcome, dear." She said in a gentle voice. "I'm glad I could be there for you. And I will always be there for you. If you ever need me or just want to talk you know how to reach me." I nodded, grateful. "Thanks so much. I appreciate it. And, if you can, I would like it if you could come by more often." "Of course I will. I wouldn't have it any other way." She straightened up, and looked at me sincerely. "Take care of yourself, Kristin. You mean a lot to many people, especially your mother and we all want you to be well and as happy as you can be. Alright?" "Alright. I will try my best. I promise." I smiled at her and stood at the doorway, watching her until she drove away around the bend and I could not see her any longer. A few minutes later my mother appeared. She got out of her car with a couple of bags of groceries and when she saw me she almost dropped a bag. Her face broke out in a huge smile and she looked so happy that I felt terrible for staying in bed for so long leaving her on her own. I hurried to her and helped her with her items and we both entered the house together. "Oh honey, I am so glad you are up and about now. You don't know how long I have been waiting for this. In a way I have missed you." I looked at her and saw her eyes glistening. "Oh mom, please don't cry." I smiled as my eyes began to fill with tears. "I've missed you too." We sat down at the kitchen table, wiping our eyes with tissue. "How did this come about? I know you said a few more days and it has been, but the way you have been feeling I thought it would be a little more longer." "I don't quite know. I woke up today and looked outside and I had this strange urge to go outside and see the garden. I suppose it was because I remembered how much I had loved doing that. After our talk I did a lot of thinking and I decided I didn't want to waste my life away. I am still here for a reason and I intend to live it for all it's worth. Also, Hannah came by today and she helped me to realize that I have no reason to feel guilty at all. It wasn't my fault, nor is it anyone else's and killing myself isn't going to change a thing." I looked at her directly. "I know that is basically what you have been telling me, but I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else, you know?" My mother nodded, understandingly. "Of course I do, and it makes perfect sense." "I think also it's because Mr. and Mrs. Andrews have been suffering the same way I have been and they are getting better. It makes me realize that if they can get better then so can I. "Although," I continued. "I am a little upset that they could get over it so quickly. I mean they were starting to get 'better' way before I did. But, I guess everyone deals with pain differently." "That is true. Some people hide up in their rooms day in and day out, shut out from everyone and others bury themselves in their work and even others act like everything is okay. It's because it feels safe. And if it feels safe and helps them to forget then they do what feels right. Just like you did." My mother replied, softly. "I still miss him though. More then anything. And, this pain in my chest still isn't gone away. But, I know now that I will get through it. I just wonder how long it will take." "Who knows." My mother shrugged, squeezing my hand. "It could take weeks, months, even years. It will go away, and you will never forget him but you will go on. That is all I want from you. Just to go on." "I'm going to try, Mom. I swear. I've even been doing a little thinking. Since I won't be going back to school until September I need something to occupy my time until then. I know that I can't just sit around all spring and summer doing nothing. That will drive me crazy." I gave her a tiny smile. "Well, what did you have in mind?" "I'm not sure. Maybe looking for a job or taking a summer course. Or, maybe both. I haven't quite decided yet. Besides, I'm not sure who is hiring or what kind of course to take." "Well," my mother began thoughtfully. "I think those are good ideas. Why don't I stop over at the college tommorow and see what kind of courses they are offering just for the summer and I think Margie Reiter is looking for some help at her store part-time. How about I inquire about it for you tommorow as well?" "Great. Thank you, Mom. Especially since I don't think that I could manage seeing a lot of people right away. I am so lucky to have you." I could feel the tears in my eyes again. It was so much easier to cry now that my chest still felt sore and head felt heavy. No matter what I did or said, Anrew's name and face were always clearly etched in my mind and my heart. It was going to be a long struggle ahead of me. "No, I am the lucky one. I have my daughter back." She hugged me tightly. I hugged her back just as tightly. After so long, her touch actually felt real again. It was like the numbness that had surrounded my body was finally being lifted. I helped my mother to unpack the groceries and for the first time in a long time I helped her to make dinner. It felt good to be cooking again. It was something that I had enjoyed doing and that night I put my all into it. Not only because I loved doing it but it helped to put an even wider barrier between myself and my sadness that was still there. The first two months seemed to fly by. Every other day I helped Margie out at her small diner serving customers and cooking when Margie became tired. Since Margie's Diner usually served the older crowd, I was able to hold off seeing my friends a little while longer. It felt good to be doing something. It wasn't much and I'm sure I didn't change the world but for some reason listening to customers laugh or complain, and hearing the sounds of forks and plates made me feel relaxed. I suppose it was because it was real and normal. The world hadn't changed like I had hoped at the time, and for that I was glad. The pay wasn't great and sometimes the customers left without leaving me a tip but it did not matter. I hadn't taken the job for the money. After awhile, Margie allowed me to open and close once in awhile. She trusted me so much that I was eventually taught how to do the money at the end of the night alone. I liked being trusted and I even began to like Margie who I heard from others could be mean and bitter. She, in fact, was a wise, sincere old lady who never took anything for granted and learned from all her past mistakes. We talked about a lot of things. Sometimes what we talked about weren't even important but we enjoyed each others company. She spoke of her husband and his death and how she felt and how she dealt with it. I opened up to her about Andrew's death and how I delt with it in the beginning. She was very understanding because she had behaved the same way. She made me realize things about people and life I had never realized before. I began to change in my way of thinking. Before I was a serious person when it came to schoolwork. Now I was a serious person when it came to life and all the issues involved. She really opened my eyes and for that I will always be grateful. In June I began a course at the college on the other side of town. I chose that one instead of my old one because I still was not ready to face my friends. It was an interior design course and it was the best class I had ever taken. I had been studying that and writing the previous semester but it hadn't been as much fun or as interesting as the summer course was. Our teacher allowed us to work independently which had never happened before. We were given our own computer, with our own design disc and some other articles and we all went to work. She would walk around and see what we were working on and grade us accordingly. Everyone in the class recieved A's and B's. She had told us in the beginning that there were no such thing as C's and D's. Nobody would fail. You didn't hear that said too often by a teacher. I was having a good time, well, as well as can be expected. Even my mother noticed my vast improvement and was thrilled. She said I was on the road to recoverey. I never had the heart to tell her that so far all I could see was the road. In fact, I was standing in front of it, I just hadn't stepped onto it yet. I hid my pain quite well. As disappointing as it was, summer had to end. I finished my course with flying colors and my mother and I went out to celebrate. It was the first time I had gone into town in awhile. I didn't see anyone that I knew which made me sigh in relief. I went to my school and made the finishing touches on my returning back in September. Some of the faculty and students looked at me sympathetically but I pretended not to notice. I hurried into the store in the school to buy a couple of books that I would need this year and drove home quickly. I hadn't liked being stared at that way. It had made me uncomfortable. The day I was to return, I became nervous. I knew a lot of people would still be looking at me with sadness and it would be hard to bear. I had wanted to finish my semester at the other college but my mother had said it would be best to return to my old school. She said I had to be strong and this was a good way to do that. Besides that, everything had already been arranged and it was too late to register at the other college anyway. I took my time getting ready. Trying on clothes and discarding them over and over again. I wanted to look decent but not draw anymore attention to myself then I already was recieving. Besides that, I was in no hurry to get to class and I did not feel like getting there early. I, of course, did not want to arrive late either. That would be all I needed, to arrive late and have everyone look up to see who had opened the door.
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