Read Online Close Your Eyes, Hold Hands by Chris Bohjalian - Free Book Online

arguing over whose fault it was that I couldn’t go—in other words, who was supposed to have taken me and should have stayed sober enough to drive a car when it was spitting snow. So, young bomb thrower that I was, I told them that the world would be a better place if they just got divorced, and then I broke their wineglasses. (Once, after Emily Dickinson’s father gave her some grief for setting a chipped plate on the dinner table, she calmly carried it to their garden and smashed it. I didn’t know this story when I was thirteen, but it sure hit home when I read about it a year later.)
    In all fairness, it’s kind of a gray area, right? I mean, I shouldn’t have gone postal on their crystal, but it would have been nice if one of them had been able to drive their thirteen-year-old kid to a friend’s house.
    If I ever get married and have children, I promise you I won’t ever get stupid, stinking drunk in front of them. And I will never, ever fight with my husband in front of the kids. And, finally, I promise that if my marriage sucks because of where we live, we’ll move.

    Of course, I also learned a lot of good things about parenting from my mom and dad. That’s a fact. I knew they loved me, even when—my opinion—they seriously screwed up.
    So, I really was desperate to see them or hear from them thosefirst hours after the meltdown, especially since I knew in my heart that they were screwed (which meant I was screwed, too, but that honestly wasn’t what I was thinking at the time). Days and weeks later, when I saw the things people were saying about my dad in the news and online, I was devastated. People said crazy mean stuff about him. People said crazy mean stuff about both my parents. It wasn’t fair. I mean, they were—and I know this word because I once wrote an English paper about the Emily Dickinson poem “It dropped so low in my regard”—reviled. They were hated. That’s why I gave up on the Internet. That’s why I gave up on Facebook and Tumblr.
    I think I did a good job with Cameron—and that’s thanks to my parents. And I don’t care what anyone says about
that
.

    So, I ran from the college cafeteria into the woods. I didn’t run on the paved roads or the sidewalks around the campus, because I thought it would be easier for them to catch me if I did. Instead I ran straight down this grassy hill toward a line of trees. I fell once because the grass was like a Slip ’N Slide, which must have been when I lost my phone. I didn’t look back for a while because I figured people were following me. Nope. Not Lisa or Ethan or Ms. Gagne. When I finally allowed myself to catch my breath, I was hidden by a wall of scrubby brush and birch trees. I looked up at the buildings, including the modern brick one that housed the cafeteria, and I saw cars and buses coming and going, and police officers and guys who I think were campus security herding kids and families and old people inside. If anyone was going to come after me, they hadn’t started yet. Honestly, my feelings were a little hurt, which in hindsight is just crazy. I mean, there was a fucking nuclear meltdown going on and it was pouring outside. We’re talking monsoon, practically. All anyone could think about was radiation and fallout and the “plume.” Who had time to worry about little old me? And, for all I know, they did come after me. It justtook them a minute to rally or to decide,
Hmmm, I guess she isn’t just drama-queening out there and we better go get her
.
    But by then I was off and running.
    My plan was to try and find my parents. I actually thought I was going to go back to Newport and Reddington. Remember, I was kind of hysterical and, as I’ve told you, I’ve always had weird brain chemistry issues, and back then I wasn’t on any meds. (When I first got here, there was some talk about whether I should be taking antipsychotics. Seriously? One doctor brought up lithium. Yeah, not happening. I was on something for a few