Survivor’s Guilt 
Anna Petty

Soft music filtered in and out of Sage’s ears, easing her into consciousness. The truck bounced up and down as it went along a windy canyon road, making it hard to rest. Sage didn’t want to open her eyes. She knew that once she was fully awake, she wouldn’t like it. Sage furrowed her eyebrows with her eyes still tightly shut. Her insides roiled within while her head pounded. Sage covered her head with her hands and held still for nearly a minute.

         Finally gathering the courage to open her eyes, Sage shifted in her seat. Her head was resting on the window, and she was hugging her legs to her chest.

         It was dark outside. There was no moon in the sky. Just stars. Lots and lots of stars. The music Val was playing caught her attention. The lyrics registered slowly into her mind, and after a while she was aware of everything around her.

         The scent of the old musty truck. The soreness in her back and neck. Val tapping her fingers on the wheel. And the intense guilt looming over her.

         Rubbing her eyes, Sage sat up fully and groaned.

         “Hey,” Val said, barely above her breath. She was holding the steering wheel with one hand and glanced over at Sage, “Shit, you look like hell.”

         “Well, I feel like hell.” Sage grumbled.

         “I get it.”

         Sage looked out of the windshield and sighed. The headlights illuminated the surrounding area. Tall pine trees were on either side of the road, making it difficult to see much of anything else. Sage looked over at Val and studied her face.

         She seemed contemplative. The dark circles under her eyes gave away how much sleep she had missed in the past 24 hours. Her lips were chapped and her face was drained of most of its color.

         “Valerie…” Sage started, knowing what she was about to say would make her friend upset. Val firmly pressed her lips together, staring resolutely on the road. Sage pressed on, “Valerie, please. We need to stop and rest.”

         “We can’t. Not right now.” her tone was cold and matter-of-fact. Usually there was no getting past Val when she made up her mind, but the circumstances called for it. Maybe a compromise would do.

         “Okay,” Sage nodded, “How about you take a break and I drive?”

         “No.” her hands tightened on the wheel. Sage huffed, folded her arms and looked out the window. This girl. They had gone through so much together. Couldn’t Val trust her?

         A few moments passed. Her head still ached. A deer weaved through the woods alongside the truck before disappearing from view. She heard a small sniff. And another. Sage startled, turning to see tears slip down Val’s face. Val quickly wiped them away, trying to save her crumbled composure.

         “I…” Val gasped, struggling to control her breaths, “I thought that when we finally escaped… I would feel free.”

         Screams echoed in Sage’s mind. Her hands started to shake. “We just need time to process this, maybe get some sleep-”

         Val shook her head, “I won’t be able to sleep without seeing their bodies. Nothing can fix what we’ve done.”

         “Stop.” Sage gripped her stomach, feeling ill, “It wasn’t our fault.”

         “How can you say that? We could have stopped it! We could have saved them, but we didn’t. You didn’t.”

         Sage couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. She was going to throw up.

         “Why, Sage? Why did you save me instead of them?”

         “Pull over, Valerie, now.”

         “Sage,”

         “Now!”

         The brakes screeched to a halt. Sage fumbled with her seatbelt before flinging the door open and retching on the side of the road. She wiped her mouth, the taste of acidic bile left on her tongue. Her whole body shook.

         “I’m sorry,” Sage sat back up, staring at her clenched hands.

         Val let out a small laugh, “I didn’t think you threw up on purpose.”

         “Right.”

They sat there with the door open for what felt like ages. Val turned off the music. The chirps of crickets and frogs filled her ears.

         “You’re right.” Sage said, facing Val. Val’s eyes were red rimmed. She looked exhausted. Defeated. “We made.. I made a huge, irreversible decision,” Sage reached out, grabbing Val’s hands, “but it wasn’t a mistake.” Sage brought her closer, pulling her into a hug. “I couldn’t stand losing you. You are the most important person to me.”

         Sage honestly didn’t know how Val would react to that. She could push her away, yell at her some more, blame everything on her and leave. Alternatively, she could say that it was okay. Everything that happened was justified. They could move on without another thought. Sage didn’t know which outcome would be worse.

         Instead, Val was frozen. She didn’t move or even take a breath. Sage separated them, holding her at arm's length, “Valerie…?”

         Her face was downcast but a blush bloomed on her cheeks. It seemed like she was trying to figure out what to say, to settle on the right words.

         Sage sighed, “Don’t worry. I know everything is messed up right now,”

         “But?” Val mustered, a fragile hope stringing her along.

         “But… we have each other. We’ve survived. Things can only get better from here, right?”

         Val was quiet. The idling engine rumbled as she finally looked back up at Sage.

         “Okay.” Val said, slightly nodding as if she was trying to convince herself that things would get better. She reached for Sage’s hand and squeezed it once before climbing out the truck.

         “Hey! Where are you going?” Sage called out, panic rising in her throat.

         Val made her way around to Sage’s door, “Taking a nap as requested. Scooch.”

         Sage’s tense shoulders dropped. She allowed herself to smile as she slid into the driver’s seat. They buckled in and turned the music back on. The lyrics melded into the background as Sage put the truck into drive. She gripped the wheel and asked, “Where to?”