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artificialqueens · 4 years

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The Goode Case, 3/14 - Juno

Chapter Summary: Jaida can’t sleep, thanks to her recurring nightmare, which prompts her to relive how Jackie revealed her own gift, and how she found out about Jaida’s, in an evening that Jaida, Jackie and Brita are unlikely to forget any time soon …

(A/N: I really appreciate your supportive comments, thank you! Hopefully I will have another update ready in the next couple of days on this monster of a story. For now though, here is part three.)

Sunday 29thOctober

4.13AM

Jaida sat up, drenched in sweat from the familiar nightmare.

She blinked, and she could still see her Papa in the corner, as she had that horrible night.

The nightmare was almost always just a replay of the experience. The first time she recalled seeing a spirit.

She and her parents had stayed in the room with her beloved Papa’s body in the coffin the night before his wake, when Jaida was just seven. She’d known her Papa was in the coffin, but suddenly his spectre was in the corner, pale and blank; she’d watched him walk from the corner of the room to Jaida, while Jaida lay paralysed with fear, unable to make a sound; and reach his hand towards her, bringing his face closer …

That was always the point that Jaida woke up, and today was no different. She waited for her eyes to focus in the dark, her breathing to calm, and she closed her eyes, counted to five, and when she opened them, Papa had disappeared as he always did.

But the memory didn’t fade. It never did.

Jaida had not had many close relatives die, but she remembered her friend Marty back in senior year of high school, seeing his mom behind him, reaching to shake his shoulder, but Jaida being the only person to see her. Marty had spun round at Jaida’s cry, not seeing his mom even though she was right there, clear as crystal, to Jaida’s eyes at least. He’d then avoided Jaida the rest of senior year when it had turned out his mother had had a fatal heart attack earlier that day.

And later at college. Laura stood on the bridge, looking down at the water, then at Jaida, then at the water again. A day before Jaida had found out that Laura had leapt from that same bridge three days ago.

Part of Jaida really hated the gift – or curse, as she thought privately – but without it, she and Jackie wouldn’t have become so close so quickly. Jackie’s telepathy, and subsequent mental bond that she’d formed with both Jaida and Brita, had been weird at first, but now Jackie was the only person who knew about Jaida’s ability.

Jackie referred to it as mediumship, while Jaida just called it a pain in the ass.

Jackie couldn’t see these spirits, just as Jaida couldn’t read minds, but at least Jackie knew that she wasn’t crazy, or lying. And as the oldest, the self-appointed ‘mom friend’ of the group, Jackie would often look after them at her own expense.

For instance, at this moment, Jaida knew that her nightmare, and seeing her Papa in her room, would have made Jackie wake up, sensing Jaida’s terror even from this distance, thanks to that psychic bond that Jaida had insisted on trying out with her. Jackie would now be online, waiting for Jaida to message her if she needed anything.

Sure enough, when Jaida picked up her phone, waiting for her eyes to focus, Jackie was the only person online, apart from that one girl from college who’d moved to London and was five hours ahead.

Springing from her memory, she remembered Jackie describing her telepathy to her and Brita, after they’d taken Jackie to Vanjie’s after her first week.

————————————

It was, oddly enough, Brita’s idea. Brita was not one to suggest a trip to the bar, normally being more inclined to rest at home in the evenings one of her hoards of books and a mug of hot chocolate; but the day Jackie joined back in June, that fateful Monday, Brita was dumped. By text, as well.

Brita had pulled Jaida into the bathroom at the end of the day, outwardly as always a tower of strength, professional and proud; to crumple into a heap over the sink, inconsolable, crying so desperately that it was all Jaida could do not to cry herself.

Luckily for Brita, her seemingly endless torrent of friends rang her phone off the hook the next few days, trying to persuade her to go out, telling her to forget him, sending her pictures of plenty of hot men and women to drool over. Brita had just chuckled, but Jaida knew she was feeling the love from all angles at this time.

That week she’d already been out with her friend Paul Mantione and his sister Jan on the Wednesday; and her two older sisters on the Thursday for food and plenty of red wine; but Friday she suggested to Jaida a trip to Vanjie’s after work, as Vanjie’s was for an LGBT+ crowd which suited them both. They’d invited Jackie mostly out of politeness, not sure how she would feel in a gay bar, but Jackie had accepted with such enthusiasm that it seemed to seal the deal.

Vanessa, the owner of Vanjie’s, and Brita had been joined at the hip through most of college, but Vanessa had bought the lease to the bar after winning big money on her spontaneous trip to Vegas that time, along with her on-again off-again partner Brooke. At that time, they were off-again, which meant Vanessa wanted everyone to enjoy themselves as much as possible, and that meant free shots.

So the tequila slammer was free, and that served to loosen the pockets for one more each. Tequila slammers were not Jackie’s strong suit, but Jaida could probably take three and be fine, and the three of them had ended up in a booth afterwards with some tall cocktails, heads feeling fuzzier and fuzzier.

After two slammers and a cocktail, Jackie’s tongue had loosened considerably. She had started finishing Jaida’s sentences, and then Brita’s too. It started to become a little annoying, Jaida had to admit.

But then Jackie was finishing sentences, and starting sentences that Jaida was only thinking.

“How are you doing that?” Jaida had asked Jackie, whose face was getting quite pink. She had leaned in towards Brita and Jaida, putting a finger to her lips.

“I can hear other peoples’ thoughts,” Jackie had whispered, laughing at her own remark.

Of all the things that Jaida might have expected Jackie to respond, that had been pretty low on the list. Jaida could only stare open-mouthed, and finally nod. “Okay, that’s cool.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough now, Jacks,” Brita had laughed uneasily.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s a gift, my mom says. Well, I didn’t ask for it, and it’s a bit strange, and sometimes I don’t know what it does, so it’s like, a perfect birthday gift from relatives,” Jackie had continued, still laughing.

“Child –“

“You’re joking, right?” Brita had asked in a low voice.

“No, Brita, it’s real,” Jackie had sighed. “Okay, think of something and I’ll tell you it.”

“Alright,” Brita had screwed up her face in concentration.

“Oh, come on, you have to think of something harder than that! You’re just thinking about your birthday. It’s September 16th. I thought you were going to test me!”

The smile fell from Brita’s face, and Jaida had felt her own stomach twist uncomfortably. Jackie had just snorted with laughter at both of them.

“Your faces! Oh my god! You didn’t believe me at first!” She’d placed a hand on Jaida’s forearm. “Do you believe me now?”

“What’s mine, then?” Jaida had asked, thinking of a random date.

But Jackie had cocked an eyebrow. “You’re thinking of July 10th, but you’re trying to throw me off. That’s not your actual birthday.”

“Wait, what?” Brita had looked stunned, her eyes wide, turning from Jackie to Jaida and back again.

Jaida had felt a strange lump in her throat. “That was the right date I was thinking, but it’s not actually my birthday. How – how did you know?”

Jackie had shrugged. “I hear almost everyone’s thoughts. Mostly just whispers. So if there’s a lot of people in a group, they all get confused, but if I’m just with one or two people, I can hear the whispers.”

“Can you hear, like anyone’s thoughts? Like, can you hear Lisa Rinna’s thoughts?” Brita had asked in awe.

But Jackie had shook her head. “No, I can only hear people who are nearby, like, not more than about two metres away. So I can hear your thoughts, just the whispers, but I can’t hear Vanessa’s at the bar. Only people who are nearby. Unless they’re someone I’ve connected with.”

“Connected with?” Jaida had asked.

“So if I form a mental connection with someone, I can also know when they’re feeling an extreme emotion, wherever they are in the world. When my mom was ill, I felt it every time she woke up in pain, or was in hospital, or thought she was dying, or was scared or like, really excited when she was getting better. She’s in Toronto.”

“Is she better now?”

“She’s much better, thank you.”

“Does that mean she can read your thoughts too?” Brita had whispered.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone can. Unless you’re also psychic.” Jackie had hiccuped and then giggled. “Sorry, alcohol makes me chatty! But, I think everyone is a little bit psychic, maybe in different ways.”

And Jackie had turned to Jaida, looking straight in her eyes.

Could Jackie hear her own thoughts …

Jaida forced herself not to think about anything, to make her mind as blank as possible.

“SHOTS! Who ordered shots? Oh wait, it was me!” It was Vanessa who’d broken the spell, appearing at the corner of the booth, three more tequila shots and a plate of lemon and salt beside it. “Get some shots down your throats ladies, and maybe later get something else down your throats too!” Vanessa had cackled at her own joke.

Jaida had felt her shoulders relax a little. Jackie wasn’t a big drinker, and was a bit more drunk than she and Brita were, so Brita had taken two slammers leaving Jackie to just relax, and take a sip of the water on the table.

“Who do you have a connection with then?” Jaida had asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Whoever I choose,” Jackie had replied mysteriously, wriggling her fingers in both their directions before collapsing into giggles.

——————————————————

Jaida looked at her phone. Jackie was still online, and Jaida knew she wouldn’t log off without a prompt.

Jaida:I’m ok Jackie, thanks

Jackie: He can’t hurt you

Jaida:I know

Jackie always told Jaida this, every time Jaida had seen … someone. She wasn’t sure how Jackie had so much knowledge of all this psychic stuff, and she wasn’t even sure why Jackie was so open about it with people she had hardly met. Part of Jaida was convinced that Jackie found out about it from that night in Vanjie’s, although it wasn’t confirmed until … until that night at Jackie’s apartment.

She had a gnawing sense of regret at asking Jackie to do what she’d crudely titled “the connection thing” with her. Brita had been a bit more cautious as usual, but Jaida had wanted to know what it meant. And if it would make her know Jackie’s thoughts too.

——————————————————

In mid-July, Jackie invited them both to her apartment, as a bit of an attempt to get to know the two of them a little better. She had moved in with some girl who had so many jobs that she was never in, but left a whirlwind of clothes and bowls of cornflakes in her wake.

Jaida marvelled at the atmosphere that Jackie had managed to create. They rented, so they weren’t allowed to do major renovation, but a patterned shawl here and a plant or two there had given the plain magnolia walls some life. The living room led out to a tiny Juliet balcony with just enough room for the ashtray and a packet of menthols next to it, and a pair of dirty walking boots on the floor.

There were two bookshelves along the wall of the living area, a large oblong room with a dining table pushed against one wall. Jaida ran a finger along the titles, several French books among them too, and a small collection of Farsi books in the top left shelf.

“You got almost as many books as Brita!”

“I’ve got far more books than this!” Brita waved her hand dismissively.

“Some of these are my housemate’s as well.”

“Wait, you speak French?” Jaida pointed to one of the French titles.

“Sure. I’m Canadian, we had to take French at school.”

“And are these Farsi?”

Jackie nodded. “I’m bilingual in Farsi and English. I wish I got the chance to speak it more, normally I just chat to my mom or her siblings, when they call up. It’s easy to lose bits of it when you don’t speak it or use it too much.”

“And is this … oh, girl,” Jaida pulled the chess set out from one of the middle shelves, her eyes lighting up. “I haven’t played since seventh grade.”

“What? That’s when I started playing!” Brita exclaimed.

Jackie laughed. “You’ll both have to teach me again, I’m so bad at chess. But go ahead and play if you want, while I get the food ready.”

A beautiful smell was coming from the kitchen area. When Jackie had said she’d cook for them, Jaida had maybe expected frozen pizza, but Jackie had really put in an effort to impress them, running back and forth, chopping and blitzing noises filling the room. Jaida and Brita unpacked the chess pieces and started to play, but Brita kept calling to Jackie to see if she needed any help.

“Nope! It’s all under control!” Came Jackie’s chirpy reply each time.

In chess, Jaida had learned long ago to watch her opponent’s eyes to see where they was thinking of moving to and from, and sure enough Brita’s brown eyes flicking between the pieces gave away her every thought. Jaida liked to pride herself on having a much better poker face, letting her vision drift across the board, and trusting her instinct, even if her pieces started disappearing.

When Jackie finally came to sit in front of them, it was Brita’s move, and she was scratching her neck and licking her lips. Brita was one of those who took five minutes or more with each move, planning her strategy each time, always meticulous to take every single angle into account.

Jackie moved her gaze between them both, a small smile playing on her lips, not attempting to break the silence, just enjoying having their company in her home.

“You’re both really interesting to listen to, while you’re playing,” Jackie said finally, as Brita moved her bishop into place.

“What?”

“I mean, your thoughts, your plans for the game. You’re both strategising. You’re both just thinking about your plans.”

“Oh, okay.” Jaida ignored Jackie and moved her rook past Brita’s bishop. “Check.”

“Wait, how?” Brita peered at the board. “Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she realised. “Shit, sis, I completely missed that.”

“Sorry,” Jackie whispered, getting up and moving back to the kitchen.

Brita reached to her. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” She got up and followed Jackie to the kitchen. Jaida glanced at the board, then sighed and got up.

A minute later, Brita measuring out rice, while Jackie handed Jaida some vegetables from the bottom drawer of the fridge. Brita had felt like she’d insulted Jackie, and had insisted they help with some food prep. Jaida had been volunteered for salad.

“What is it?” Jaida peered into the simmering pan. “Smells great.”

“Khoresh Bademjan. It’s Persian. You’ll like it, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t. And don’t worry, Jaida, I made it vegetarian.”

“Cool, thanks,” Jaida smiled.

The food was gorgeous, although Jackie kept glancing at them, as if looking for some kind of validation – but once they were all done, Brita immediately leapt from her chair and dragged Jaida to the sink to tackle the washing up. With Jaida drying and Brita washing, Jackie insisting on putting the dishes away, they settled into a comfortable silence between the three of them.

“Thanks for everything, Jackie.” Jaida passed her the last dish and cleared her throat. “Sorry I made you feel a bit – you know, weird. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jackie shook her head sadly. “I’m used to keeping it to myself, but it kind of feels nice to talk about it though.”

Jaida had to admit she’d only half-considered how Jackie was feeling about talking about it.

“Do lots of people know?” Brita asked her.

But Jackie shook her head. “My mom does, and one or two of my closest friends back home. And you guys, but we’re friends too, right?”

“Sure, we have each other’s backs!” Brita pulled Jackie into a one-armed hug, squeezing Jackie into her side.

“If you’re psychic, why can’t you just wash these dishes with your mind?”

They’d rarely heard Jackie laugh louder than at Jaida’s remark. “Jai, that’s telekinesis! I’m only telepathic! Well, I say only telepathic!” And she carried on laughing. “I only hear thoughts, nothing else, I can’t move things!”

“So you can hear our thoughts, but you have to, like, connect with someone to be able to have a mental bond?” Jaida asked. “I don’t quite get it.”

“I guess … people I have a bond with, I hear more clearly. People I don’t I just hear whispers, but anyone I have a bond with, I can hear what they’re thinking really clearly, and from a longer distance.”

“Who have you got a bond with then?”

“Oh, you know, not many people,” Jackie murmured.

“Family? Friends?” Brita badgered.

Jackie sighed. “Those kinds of people, yes. My mom, a couple of my friends. One ex.” Jackie shuddered. “Bad decision. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What about us? Would you do the connection thing with us? For work?”

Jaida hadn’t expected the words to come right out of her mouth, but now that they were, Jackie looked as if she was pondering it. Maybe Jaida had felt that she needed to make it up to Jackie for earlier. Maybe … it was a sort of morbid curiosity.

Jackie’s gaze had softened, and she’d shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Jackie mused, “if we’re working on any high profile cases together, and if anything happens to you, I would know.”

“And vice versa?” Jaida asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jackie muttered, “but nothing has really ever happened to me.”

“You can’t tempt fate, sis,” Brita chuckled darkly.

“Okay,” Jaida said, “it makes sense to do it. What do you do, to connect?”

“I’m not so sure about this,” Brita hesitated.

“Come on Brita, it does make sense. Especially in our line of work. Does it take long, Jackie?” Jaida asked.

“It probably won’t take longer than about fifteen seconds, and I just need some form of touch, and eye contact. And you need to be willing, of course.”

Jaida held out a hand on the bench, and Jackie gingerly took it, raising her eyes to meet Jaida’s.

“You sure you want to do this? You don’t want to back out?” Jackie’s voice was higher than usual, and a little bit timid, as if she were afraid to have any form of connection with them.

“Go ahead, Jackie,” Jaida tried to make her voice sound as stable as she could.

“Okay. And you have to keep eye contact, until the end. You’ll know when it’s the end.”

Jackie took a deep breath in and out, and Jaida did the same, feeling her body relax a little bit as she did so. At first Jaida felt nothing, but held Jackie’s eyes, both of them falling silent. She could see Brita shifting out of the corner of her eye, but she kept focused on Jackie, breathing steadily, normally.

The seconds passed, but nothing was happening. She could see Brita biting her lip, a little confused.

“Nothing’s happening,” Jaida opened her mouth to say, or at least she thought she did, but nothing came out of it, and she wasn’t even sure her mouth moved.

“What?” She tried to say, but her mouth definitely didn’t move that time.

Jackie was still staring into her, and it was becoming intrusive, unnerving, but Jaida found she couldn’t look away, she was becoming a little light-headed at the focus.

She felt an internal jerk, as if electricity had gone through her; felt her mind race, a whole rush of emotions and memories play back to her in her mind, some echoes of thoughts that weren’t her own; saw herself briefly through Jackie’s own eyes, felt her own hand in Jackie’s, heard herself thinking thoughts that were definitely not her …

Jackie pulled back, blinking and shaking her head wildly, and Jaida was finally freed, feeling as if she had been yanked backwards out of a vacuum. She rubbed her forehead, finding she was sweating.

“Woah,” Jaida whispered.

It was rare to see Brita scared. Her wide eyes flicked between Jaida and Jackie, her mouth agape, looking less and less sure she wanted to do this.

Jackie held out a hand to her. “Brita?”

Brita was no coward, Jaida knew this well from the various jobs she had seen Brita complete. She might have been frightened, but she nodded slowly, holding her own hand out, facing Jackie and locking eyes with her.

Jaida watched them both. Watched as Jackie’s face grew intense with concentration. Watched as Brita’s brow furrowed, as if she were in pain.

“Ow,” she breathed.

But Jackie didn’t relent.

“Oww,” Brita’s voice was weak, but she maintained focus.

They both flinched at the same moment, pain etched in the lines on their foreheads, but Jaida didn’t know what to do in this strange psychic battle. It seemed to be going on longer than she had done with Jackie, their stares so intense they could have burned through each other.

“Jackie, what’s happening?” She asked, but Jackie didn’t respond, nor Brita, both still intensely concentrated on each other.

“What’s –“ Jaida raised a hand, but they both jolted at that moment, breaking apart, Brita ripping her hand away, and Jackie looking down at the floor, biting her lip.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “it’s not meant to hurt so much. It never has with anyone else …”

But Brita, her eyes glassy, blinked twice and stumbled out of the room as if she hadn’t heard, making her way away to the bathroom.

“Brita?” Jaida started to move after her, but Jackie grabbed her forearm.

“Let her go, Jaida, I think she needs to be alone,” Jackie murmured, and Jaida stepped backwards, watching Brita’s dazed walk to the bathroom.

Jaida’s own mind was reeling at the contact. Her mind raced with questions.

Were she and Jackie now bonded to each other mentally?

Did that mean that Jackie knew about Jaida’s own sixth sense, the Bruce Willis cliché twist; that Jaida saw spirits that most others didn’t?

“Yes,” Jackie muttered. “And yes.”

Jaida saw Jackie watching her, her eyes full of something that Jaida thought was … pity.

————————————————————————

Jaida sighed at the memory. It had brought the three of them closer, that was for sure, but Jackie had refused to tell Brita what Jaida saw. Just as she had refused to tell Jaida what had happened with Brita too – she’d argued that they both needed to take charge themselves.

The clock said almost four thirty by now, and Jackie was still online, so Jaida turned her phone off. Jackie would go offline and back to sleep, as long as she knew Jaida was alright. The mom-friend, who wanted to save everyone in the world.

Jaida wondered if Jackie had craved that support, that care, when she was learning about her own telepathy; to make her offer herself so selflessly now.

She lay back down, pondering that warm July night.

And Brita … she and Brita knew so much about each other. Jaida had been the first person to whom Brita had confessed to being attracted to women as well as men, and Jaida had helped Brita plan her coming out to her sisters and parents. And when Silky had broken up with Jaida back in May, Brita had been at her house within half an hour, mopping up the tears that Jaida rarely let the world see, getting them both dressed and made up, and pulling both Jaida and Widow to a karaoke bar to belt out some tunes, Heidi hot on their heels.

Jaida smiled fondly at that memory. Jaida was a terrible singer, she knew that, and Widow was a bit too shy to sing, but Brita’s voice was fantastic. When Brita had hit the high note in Unbreak My Heart, Jaida had felt goose pimples run down her arms, before she was crying again and Widow had wrapped her up, not saying a word, simply letting Jaida unravel in her arms, while Heidi had stroked her back soothingly.

It was wrong that Brita still didn’t know what her gift was. Jackie was right – Jaida knew that she and Brita were keeping huge parts of themselves hidden from each other, even though they’d been friends for three years.

Enough was enough.

Jaida resolved to talk to Brita in the morning.

#rpdr fanfiction #jaida essence hall #brita filter #jackie cox #lesbian au #detective au #mystery #the goode case #juno #black girl magic fic #diversity fic #s12 #submission #tw death #tw suicide references

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thisisusfan388 · 6 years

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Painful Goodbyes

Hey guys- I'm back with a brand new chapter for my This Is Us series, set one month after Jack's death.

You can check out the previous chapters here:

https://thisisusfan388.tumblr.com/post/173624345857/its-all-coming-back-to-me-now-hey-guys-this-is

https://thisisusfan388.tumblr.com/post/174405404197/my-number-one

Thank you so much the lovely @omeliashipper for helping me to proofread this chapter!

Kate's POV

I open my eyes to the sound of pitiful whimpering. As I look around, the room is still pitch dark. As my eyes become accustomed to the dark, I spot the source of the noise. My dog Louis is sitting up in his basket in the corner of the room. We lock eyes and he lets out another sad whimper.

I look at the alarm clock beside my bed and sigh. 4 am in the morning. What does he probably want?

" What do you want, Louis?" I ask him softly. " Are you hungry? Do you need to go to pee?"

He perks up in his basket, pleased at having gotten my attention, and wags his tail.

I reluctantly get out of bed and trudge to the kitchen of the rented house, with him following me close behind. I open the back door for him to go out to do his business. He dashes out almost immediately, and I pour some dog treats into his bowl. He bounds back into the kitchen after a moment and gobbles down the treats eagerly. Sometimes, I wish I were a dog. Dogs are always happy all the time, no matter the circumstances.

I stroke his back gently as I watch him devour his meal. A heavy feeling enters my heart. He is an innocent dog and doesn't deserve this. No. It's not his fault- I tell myself.

I just can't bear to look at Louis anymore. Every time I look at him, I have a flashback reminding me of how my beloved Dad lost his life trying to save him. Before that tragic night, Louis was the center of my life. All my love and attention was focused on Louis. Now, seeing Louis is just a painful reminder of the fact that I've lost my dad.

I can still remember very vividly my screams of terror as I heard Louis barking for help from inside the burning house, and as I watched Dad rush back into the burning flames of the house. I was so shaken up, so upset that Louis was trapped in the house and would be burnt alive. Dad surprised me by running back into the house, despite Mom's protests. In retrospect, I have no idea why he had to go back into the house. Mom, Randall and I were all safe. Yes, he managed to save Louis and the important family documents, but at what cost? It cost him his life! I can't help but wonder daily each time I look at Louis- would Dad still have been alive had he not gone back in? I love them both, but if I had to choose between them, I would choose Dad for sure. Mom had mentioned that Dad died of smoke inhalation. Had he not gone back into the house, he would have inhaled the same amount of smoke as me, Randall and Mom. We survived and he should have as well.

I know that Dad saved Louis for my sake because he loved me and didn't want to see me heartbroken. But what he didn't realize back then was that I would be even more devastated to lose him.

The familiar feelings of anger and guilt overtake me the longer I look at Louis. Because of him, I have lost my beloved Dad - who was my best friend, confidante, most loyal supporter. I have lost my livelihood.

Life is not worth living anymore when you have lost the only person who tells you that you're perfect just the way you are. Everyone else, my friends and even my mom tell me that I need to lose more weight.

I remember the day before his death- I was recording a video for my application into university. Dad was secretly using his video camera to record me singing. When I turned around and realized that he was recording me, I was extremely pissed off. Why would he do such a thing- recording me singing without my consent? He was embarrassing me!

Looking back now, I'm so glad that he did it. The video is an evidence of his time here on earth, a proof that I have been loved by the best Dad ever. I have been replaying the video's tape recording so many times for the past month. Seeing the proud look on his face in the video as he recorded me is what has gotten me through this past month. Somehow seeing Dad in person, even if just on video, helps fill the void in my heart. It is cathartic indeed to be able to see Dad smiling proudly at me while holding his camera. In a strange way, replaying that video recording again and again makes me feel like he is always here with me, looking out for me.

Watching this video also made me realize how genuinely proud he was of me. When my friends in school laughed at me and called me fat, I returned home upset. Dad, always the one to sense my downcast mood, would ask me what's wrong, and I would open up to him. With Dad, there was nothing to hide. He would then comfort me by saying that it doesn't matter what they say- for him I'm beautiful, and that was all that mattered. Once, in third grade, when I came back crying after a few girls in the class wouldn't play with me as they thought I was fat and ugly- Dad actually took the matter into his hands and approached the girls, nicely telling them that what they were doing wasn't right. They never did bully me after that.

He would also always diffuse the tension between me and mom. Mom and I have a rocky relationship. I always feel like she expects me to be as perfect and beautiful as her. I am not and never will be. I always feel like she thinks I am not a good enough singer and can't sing as well as her. I've to admit, deep down inside I'm always jealous of the fact that she is so gorgeous. Even when I tried to starve myself to the point of eating only salad daily, I could never be as slender as her.

My relationship with Dad though is different. With Dad, I felt like I am free to be my true, authentic self. With him, I did not need to pretend to be anyone I was not. There were many instances where I would get into an argument with Mom, over a dress which I couldn't fit in or an off-handed remark she would make about my appearance which would trigger my fury. Dad would always manage to diffuse the situation by calming both me and Mom down individually. Now, there is no one to mediate my arguments with Mom.

Now with Dad gone, I'll also miss the impromptu ice cream sessions I had with him. When I was younger, whenever I got upset when Mom mentioned that I needed to watch my weight, Dad would cheer me up by bringing me to our favorite ice cream parlor in town, called Frenchies. It offers a wide variety of ice cream flavors, and I loved sampling a different combination of flavors each time. Dad, on the other hand, loved the banana pudding flavor. Over ice cream, Dad would then tell some jokes which would send me cracking up in fits of laughter and forget about the reason I was upset earlier on.

Also, I can never forget the time I was waiting for the bus to a private signing session with Alanis Morrissette. I love her songs and really wanted to meet her in person. When I found out that she was coming to town, I knew that I had to go meet her and get her autograph or a picture with her. When I saw Dad pulling up, my heart sank as I knew that I would be busted for skipping school. It turned out that he was the most sporting Dad ever, giving me a ride right to the studio where Alanis was meeting her fans. It was a secret between us which Mom never found out about.

I am always Dad's little girl, no matter how old I am. I was, am and always will be his little ‘Katie girl.' He made me believe in myself and never gave up on me.

Louis has finished gobbling up his treat and is now looking up at me with pleading eyes, as if begging for more. I just cannot bear to look at those eyes anymore.

I fill up his bowl with another round of treats. I am going to spoil him now, because this will be his last day with me. I've made up my mind, I can't keep him any longer.

"I'm sorry, Louis," I whisper as I gently stroke his back as he continues devouring his food. "I'm so sorry."

He pauses for a moment to look up from his food and wag his tail at me, before returning his attention back to the food.

This gesture of his makes me feel even more guilty about the decision I've made.

I return back to my room with Louis trailing right behind me. As Louis settles into his basket again, I sit up on my bed, knowing that I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. I haven't been sleeping much for the past month, because every time I fall asleep, images of that fateful night- the fire, my horrified screams, the smell of smoke, and my terror of seeing Dad running back into the burning house would come back to haunt me.

_______________________________________________________________

Later in the morning

I am chewing absent-mindedly on my piece of toast, thinking about how to say goodbye to Louis. It is going to be heartbreaking for me to separate from this loyal dog who gave me licks and tail wags when I'm feeling down. However, I know that it has to be done. If I'm ever going to keep my sanity intact, I have to let go of this dog.

It is a weekend, so I plan to walk him straight to the pet adoption center about 15 minutes away from home right after breakfast.

" Hey." Mom greets me as she enters the kitchen and proceeds to pour two cups of coffee, one of each of us. She then takes a seat beside me.

" Hey." I greet her back, still munching on my toast and not looking at her. I just can't bear to look at the sadness in her eyes and the grief on her face.

" Do you have anything planned for today?" she asks. " Like going out with friends or something? Kevin was staying the night at Sophie's, and Randall is going to Alison's later."

What?! Mom do you expect me to just go on with life like normal after all that has happened?! Life isn't the same anymore, and I can't possibly pretend that it is!

" Nothing much. I'm just taking the dog out for a walk." I answer casually.

" Well, that's good. You need to get some fresh air. It's good for you." Mom approves.

" What do you mean by that?!" I shoot back suddenly.

Mom lifts her hands up in a defensive gesture.

" I'm just saying that you need to get some fresh air," she repeats in a cautious tone.

" Stop telling me what I need to do! You've been telling me what to do my whole life, and I'm sick and tired of it. Ok? Stop telling me what I can or cannot become, Mom. Just back off and leave me alone." I retort.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry." Mom apologizes. I think I can hear a quiver in her voice, but I can't bear to bring myself to look at her. Looking at her would only make me feel worse.

" It's ok, Mom. I'm going to bring the dog out for a walk now." I mutter.

Just then, Randall enters the kitchen.

" Morning Mom, Kate.' he greets us.

" You want me to come with you?" he offers as he sees me placing the leash on Louis.

" It's ok, you stay with Mom," I answer before walking out of the door, leaving Mom in the kitchen with her favorite son.

_____________________________________________________________

Fifteen minutes later, I am at the animal shelter.

" Hey" a pleasant looking middle-aged lady greets me. " How may I help you?" she asks.

" Hey- this is my dog, Louis," I say- gesturing at him, as she bends down to give him a pat on the head.

" Hey Louis." she greets him cheerfully as he wags his tail at her.

" He's such a friendly dog." she points out as I nod in agreement.

" Yes, he is," I say. " It's a good thing that he is friendly because I can't keep him any longer."

" Oh, why not?" she asks, a sympathetic tone in her voice.

For a moment, I am tempted to tell her the truth, that I just can't continue to be reminded of Dad each time I look at the dog, but I know that I'll break down in front of her, a complete stranger, if I mention Dad.

" I just can't afford to take care of him anymore." I lie. " I'm sure there are many people who are better equipped to care for him."

" Ok. Well, are you sure about this, young lady? Because once we take him in, you can't take him back anymore. So you need to be completely sure that you want to surrender him to us." she confirms with me.

Louis looks at me as our eyes meet. He has a pitiful look in his eyes, as if he senses that I am giving him away and he's silently begging for me to keep him. To add to my guilt, he cocks his head to one side, a gesture which I have always found adorable.

For a split second, I consider retracting my statement and telling her that I don't want to give Louis away after all.

I look away from both Louis and the shelter keeper, trying to blink back the tears that are starting to fill my eyes.

" Yes," I answer firmly, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

Louis lets out a woeful whimper.

" Ok, we'll take him in. I'm sure we can find him a suitable owner, he'll be in good hands." the lady smiles at me as she takes the leash from my hands.

Louis whimpers again as he looks at me.

Fighting back tears, I bend down to pat him on the head one last time.

"It's ok Louis, you will find another home, a better home. You'll find someone who will love you and take good care of you. You'll be ok. You'll be ok." I whisper gently to him as I stroke his back and pat his head.

He licks me on the face. I think he can sense that this is goodbye.

I need to leave this place as soon as possible before I change my mind.

" Bye Louis," I say as I stand up, give him a final pat and turn around to walk away.

" Say bye." I hear the lady telling him.

As I walk towards the door, I can hear Louis barking, begging for me to turn back to get him.

With tears now freely rolling down my cheeks, I walk out of the door.

_______________________________________________________________

An hour later, I'm at Frenchies, where Dad and I loved to hang out.

" Hey, Kate- haven't seen you for quite some time. What flavor would you like today?" the guy at the counter, Nick, asks.

" Chocolate and vanilla flavor, please," I answer politely, and he proceeds to make my ice cream.

" Here you go," he says as he returns with my order a few moments later. " Where is your Dad? You usually come with him."

" He's gone," I say with a flat tone of voice.

Nick gasps as he covers his mouth and a sorrowful look overtakes him.

" I'm so sorry, Kate. I didn't know. My deepest condolences to you and your family," he says, a sympathetic tone in his voice. " How are you coping? Are you ok?"

" I'm fine," I lie, as I pay for the ice cream and take it from him.

" Ok," he says, catching my signal not to probe any further.

I proceed to the usual table where Dad and I used to sit. Somehow, even though the place was always full, the table seemed to always be available for the both of us. It was as if the table was specially reserved for us.

I settle down in my usual seat and take a tiny scoop of the ice cream. It somehow doesn't taste as good as when Dad is sitting opposite of me, savoring his banana pudding ice cream.

I glance longingly at the empty seat opposite of mine, the seat which Dad used to occupy. The empty chair symbolizes the current empty feeling in my heart.

Even eating ice cream at my favorite hang out spot isn't the same anymore without Dad.

I remember how Dad and I used to sit here and talk for hours here whenever I had an argument with Mom. Now, there is no one for me to eat ice cream with, no one to cheer me up when I'm feeling angry or upset, no one to make me laugh.

" Kate!"

A familiar voice pulls me back to the present.

I see Randall and Alison approaching my table.

"Hey," I greet shyly as I shake Alison's hand. She is a nice girl, but not someone I would typically hang out with.

" Are you ok?" Randall asks me as he places a hand on my shoulder.

It is taking me a lot of strength to stop tears from rolling down my cheeks again.

Damn you, Randall. Why do you have to do this? You know very well that this is mine and Dad's favorite hangout place. Why do you have to make this caring gesture which can cause me to break down in public at any minute?

" Yeah, I'm fine," I reply meekly.

Randall, having known me for our entire lives, sees right through my lie.

" No, you're not," he states matter-of-factly.

He turns to Alison.

"Ali- I'm bringing Kate home now. You can come along with us." he offers.

" It's ok- I'll call Nicole to pick me up from here," she says as she smiles sympathetically at me.

" Ok- I love you. I'll see you tomorrow." Randall says as he gives her a quick and affectionate peck on the cheek.

" Come, let's go home," he says as he places an arm around my shoulder as we walk out of the place.

____________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, both Randall and I are settled on the couch in the living room of our rented house.

A tense silence passes between us as we stare at the blank TV screen.

" You gave the dog away," he says disbelievingly.

" Yes," I answer nonchalantly.

" Why, Kate?" he asks. " Why did you do that? The dog is innocent."

" I know he is! I just can't keep him any longer, because every time I see him, I am reminded of how Dad gave his life by going into the burning house to save him!" I snap.

" I'm sorry," I mutter, realizing that I am answering too harshly. " I did what I had to."

" It's ok," Randall says calmly. " I know you're angry and upset about Dad. I am too."

" Why did he have to go?" I ask as I look at him sorrowfully.

“ I don’t know. What I do know is that he is in a better place now, and it’s not Louis’s fault. Dad ran back into the house because he knew you loved Louis and he loved you,” he says.

I remain silent, as I purse my lips together, trying to stop myself from crying.

“ I miss Dad so much," I admit, my voice shaking. “He used to sit opposite me in the ice cream place. It just isn’t the same anymore without him. I miss Louis too.” I add ruefully.

“I know, I miss Dad too,” Randall says as he places a comforting arm around my shoulder, and I lean on his shoulder for support. “I sort of miss Louis too. He always greeted me cheerfully at the door whenever I return home.”

We sit in that position for a long moment, the sweet memories of Dad playing in our minds.

“ Hey- do you want to watch a rerun of Sex In The City?” Randall suggests.

“Ok.” I nod, smiling at him. I feel much better already, just having him by my side.

We sit side by side on the couch, indulging ourselves in our guilty pleasure, relying on each other for support and company in this tough time. Although I have lost my beloved Dad, I am grateful that I still have my brothers and my mom to depend on.

Alright- that’s it for this chapter. Comments, reviews, reblogs and messages are very much

#this is us #kate pearson #jack pearson #randall pearson #ailing's fics

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