As I pick up the frame, I stare into her eyes. Careful to avoid the broken glass, I gently sweep the tips of my fingers over her cheeks.
I remember the day so clearly. Each sob that tore through her throat as I threw the picture across the room rings vividly in my mind. I remember the picture shattering and I remember screaming at her to leave. And she did. I remember getting the call three hours later.
My beautiful Cora. The butterflies in my stomach climb to my throat and block my breathing. I choke back tears. I set the broken frame back on my nightstand as my face heats. Anger pounds heavy fists on my chest and self-loathing thoughts stampede my small room, taking over the space. What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I break this frame? Why did I break Cora?
My thoughts are cut short by the ringing of my phone.
“What?” My voice was rough and rude but I couldn’t care less.
“Ash, that’s really no way to answer the phone.” S***, it’s my mom.
“Sorry Mom, I didn’t know it was you.”
My mom is the best person I will ever meet. Protecting me has always been her main goal, even when it means putting herself in harm’s way. She’s unusually tall --something I inherited-- and she’s got shoulder-length, thick, curly, black hair. When I was little, her hair was so soft and comforting; and even now, spotted with gray, it’s still the same.
“Ash? Asher? Asher Eaton! Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry Mom, I just got a little distracted,” my voice shook.
“Asher, are you okay? Do you need me to come home?”
Man, I really wish it wasn’t like this. I wish she didn’t have to worry about me. Before Cora, it wasn’t like this.
“No, Mom please, I’m fine, honest. I was actually just going to go for a drive,” Good save.
I’m glad she’s not here right now. Her icy blue eyes reflect my own; I can’t ever lie to her face. There’s only ever been one person that I could lie to while looking at them, and that lie had fatal consequences.
“Well that’s good because I was just calling to ask if you would go run a few errands for me,” I take it back, it was not a good save.
“Seriously?”
“Come on Asher! You sound like a child. In a year you’re going to be an adult, act like one,” Oh no, that was the mom voice.
“Sorry Mom.”
“Alright, now I just need you to run to the store quickly and pick up a few things. The list is on the counter! Thanks, love you!”
She hung up. Of course, she hung up before I could even argue (not that I would). Typical Mom.
I really don’t feel like leaving the house. If it wasn’t for my mom; there would be zero chance of me getting up, but my mom is my mom I guess.  On my way to the kitchen, I make a stop in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I notice that my eyes look dull. I don’t know if it’s from the lack of sleep or the lack of Cora, but I seem to have lost all trace of life. My body is skinnier, lankier. My lean muscles are even leaner now, and my body looks weak. I need to get back to the gym. Maybe I’ll stop there before I get groceries.
Stepping out of my house feels wrong. Everything is so loud outside even though the sky is so dark. I feel like everyone should be quiet and calm but instead, birds are singing, kids are playing, and everywhere, people are dying. What a beautiful day. I stuff my mom’s list into my back pocket, shove my gym bag into the backseat and get into my little blue car. As soon as my vehicle roars to life, music blasts into the car. Cora’s favorite CD rings through my ears and for a second I consider turning it off, but then I decide to leave it. My fingers dance against the steering wheel to the beat of the song as I make my way to the gym. It seems pretty bare today. My blue car is one of maybe six or seven and I’m glad. I don’t want to deal with a whole bunch of people. The sky is heavy with clouds.Thick fog fills the air and it looks as if someone has dimmed the lights that cast over our small town. For a second I wonder if it’s going to rain.
The gym’s population is just as I expected; it’s nearly empty. My body ambles towards the locker room. The interior of this place is actually quite dumpy. Sad, weeping desk in the center of the entrance, forty year old man with a beer belly hunching over a dinosaur-aged computer, walls peeling a deep blue paint; the life in this place is practically non-existent. The only decent part of this gym is the equipment. All of the machines are fairly new, shiny and work easily. Why can they afford new treadmills but not a fresh can of paint? The world may never know.  For whatever reason, I continue to go to this place even though there’s a nice new chain-business gym right outside of town. I guess I’ve always had a thing for fixer-uppers. That explains a lot.
In the locker room I work my way to a small space located in the back left corner. It, just like the walls, is covered in peeling paint. It’s a very old room and I’m sure it’s seen better days. The locker that I choose is just big enough to fit my gym bag. I peel my shirt off of my skin in an attempt to change into something more suitable for working out. Man, I really did lose a lot of muscle. I try not to focus on how I look as I make my way to the machines. This is what I came for; the bench press is calling my name.
I’m about half an hour into my workout and my muscles are starting to give up. I pushed myself too hard. Usually my stamina is on my side and I can work out like this for hours; I don’t know what happened. I slow the treadmill down to a gentle jog. Thoughts consume me as a different song plays from my phone. A soft male voice rings through my ears and my gentle jog becomes a minimal walk. My legs slow and so does my heart. Cora loved this song.
After exiting the gym, I realize this wasn’t a good idea. As soon as the crisp fall air lands on my skin, my eyes meet his. His pupils capture mine and for a second, I can’t breathe. Heavy feet carry him to me but I can’t move. I know I should just turn around and walk to my car, but I can’t. Hands form into tight fists and I watch as his jaw clenches. He’s almost here. Why can’t I move?
“Carter,” I nod curtley, but I don’t think he wants to talk.
“Where the hell have you been, Eaton?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You don’t have enough respect to go to her funeral?” His face is red and he’s so close now. My heart pounds.
“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t make it. It wasn’t for a lack of respect, I just couldn’t,” before I could even blink, his fist was flying towards my face. Luckily, I ducked. “Carter, I’m sorry. I really am but this isn’t the way to deal with all of this,” I continued.
“You’re sorry? You killed my baby sister and all you can say is you’re sorry?”
“We both know I didn’t kill her. Cora ki-”
“Don’t say her name.”
“Carter, she killed herself.” He wasn’t interested in talking anymore. This time, his fist made contact with my face. For a second, I felt bad for myself. Then I realized that he’s right. This is all on me. I killed Coraline, and she’s not coming back.
Blood pours from my nose. He most definitely just broke my nose. There is no time for recovery, his fist charges towards my stomach with the force of a bull. I could fight back, but I won’t. Pain blossoms in my gut and spreads throughout my body. All of the air leaves my lungs and for a second, I think that maybe I am dying. For a second, I hope that I am. Carter’s eyes no longer resemble his beautiful sister’s, now they are those of a raven as his hands take turns pounding into my sides. As his assault continues, my own anger spikes. It started as a dull ache in the pit of my heart but now it is growing and rising straight to my head. My fists clench, my jaw ticks. For some reason, I’m not angry at Carter, I’m mad at myself and I’m mad at Cora. I am mad that she left me and I am mad that I let her.
I’m forced back into reality as one particular punch hits me directly in the ribs. My body collapses and I fall  to the ground. Everything around me blurs. I can no longer hear Carter’s hateful words or even my own, I can only hear the ringing sound in my ears. Something in me snaps. I push his heavy, muscular body off of me. I was able to catch him off guard, he falls back. I leap off the ground and try to ignore the protesting screams that come from each muscle in my body. He stands up. It was now or never.
“I didn’t kill her, Carter. Cora-” he interrupts my words with a fist.
“Don’t say her name!” My fist meets his stomach this time. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Man, things like this are no one’s fault.” Except mine. “Nobody knew she was going to do something like that.”
“Shut the hell up, Eaton. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” with that, my body falls back to the ground; but this time, I hit my head. I can’t get up. I’m stuck. I won’t ever be able to move again and I deserve to not be able to move again. I did this. It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have left her. When you love someone, you don’t leave them. You don’t give up on them and you don’t let them give up on themselves. What is wrong with me?
“Enough! Get off of him or I’m calling the police!”
A literal weight is lifted off of my chest. Whoever it is that just said that, saved my life. Carter angrily stomps to his car all the while shouting profanities. A hand reaches out to wave in front of me.
“Are you okay? Should I call for an ambulance?” Her voice is soft but serious. This woman is not messing around.
I don’t speak, just try to lift myself up off the ground.
“Hold on! I just watched you get your a** kicked. You are not getting up.”
“Ma’am, I really appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” With this, I use all of my lasting strength to lift myself up. A warm hand touches my shoulder.
“Can you at least explain to me what just happened?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Well I’m sure I can keep up. Listen, I know it’s none of my business-”
“You’re right, it’s not.”
“But I really need to know what’s going on. That was assault, and I’d at least like to know what you did to deserve that.”
“Trust me, I deserved it.”
“Well then explain.I’m not saying you have to spill your life story right here, right now. Take my card and call me if you need a witness or just someone to talk to. My name’s Caroline.” She hands me her business card. Caroline? Coraline? You’ve got to be kidding me. 
“Listen, I’m sure your intentions are pure, but seriously, I don’t need someone else in this town to hate me. Thanks again for helping me out,” with this I turn around and try to limp back to my car. Her hand catches my wrist. I don’t move, just stand there, my back facing her, her hand holding my wrist.
“How do you expect anyone to forgive you if you won’t forgive yourself?”
I rip my hand out of hers and trudge to my car. She doesn’t even know me. What gives her the right to say something like that? And to think, for a second, I actually thought that maybe I could meet someone and not have Cora be the topic of conversation. This town sucks.
The grocery store in town is so tiny. Well, to be fair, I guess everything in this town is tiny. There is only enough space in the aisles to comfortably hold one person with a shopping cart. Not to mention there’s only like six aisles. Seriously, I don’t know why this is the only place to get food around here. It doesn’t even carry all the food on my mom’s stupid list. Whatever. I’ll just have to go to the store outside of town; it’s only about twenty minutes away.
When I’m back in the car, I realize just how bad I look. I still have gas station napkins shoved up my most-likely broken nose to stop the bleeding, my fists are raw and nearly skinless, my stomach and ribs are most definitely covered in big, purple and green bruises. It hurts to breathe. I can’t believe I got into a fight. My mom is going to be pissed. As a nurse, my mom gets really overprotective of any kind of minor injury. She freaks out when I have a freaking papercut, I can’t imagine what she’ll say about the broken nose. Whatever, I didn’t start the fight, and I barely even defended myself. And plus, that woman stopped it before Carter could kill me, so no harm done. How do you expect anyone to forgive you if you won’t forgive yourself?
What made her think she had the right to say something like that to me? She doesn’t even know me! My focus is ripped off of my thoughts when I hear the familiar sound of rain hitting the windshield of my car. I knew it was going to rain. Knowing my mom, she’ll already be mad enough about the fight; I don’t really want to make it worse by driving out of town in the rain. I guess I’ll just have to pick up those groceries tomorrow. Today has been absolutely crazy. Everyday without her is crazy. I pull into the driveway and just sit there. The rain is calming and I don’t know why I used to hate it so much. It’s almost refreshing. It’s like the rain is washing away all of the bad stuff in the world.
Pretty soon I find myself standing in my driveway, soaked from head to toe. I cry with the rain. I let the Earth’s tears match my own as silent sobs escape from my body. I cry for Cora, I cry for her family; I cry because Cora took away the love of my life and she took away Carter’s sister, she took away her life and a part of everyone who is left. I cry because Cora’s brother beat me up and I punched him back, he just lost his sister.  I cry because I didn’t get the groceries for my mom. I cry because this day has been crazy, my nose hurts, and I cry because I can’t stop crying. I cry because I can’t stop thinking about my broken picture frame and my broken Cora. I cry because that lady was right, how can I expect others to forgive me if I can’t forgive myself? For a second, I almost believe that I deserve to be forgiven. For a second, I think about grabbing that woman’s card. I think about calling her and just asking for help. But just as fast as the thoughts come, they leave. I take the card out of my pocket, rip it into a thousand tiny pieces, and let the rain carry it away.  There is no forgiveness left in me. There’s nothing left in me.