The Treehouse - Chapter 13
"Oh shit!" Chris whispered, leaning up against the wall for support. "The treehouse." He dashed blindly outside and climbed up to the shelter. Brie was lying limp on the floor, blood gushing from her head. Using all the common sense he could muster at the moment, Chris called for an ambulance. When he was finished, he kneeled beside Brie, tears flowing steadily down his cheeks and lower lip quivering. Chris laid his forehead on Brie's, praying her eyes would open and she'd be alright. Her hand was freezing cold in his, her fingertips like ice. Chris heard sirens approaching as Brie's life slowly slipped away.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
One week after the suicide and two days after the funeral, Chris returned to the treehouse to permanently strip it of decoration. It was painful for him to even be there, but it would be worse if he didn't face the hurt. Besides, he had happy memories of he and Brianne to cherish, and he needed to recollect them. Heading toward the desk, a clean sheet of paper with gold writing, neatly placed in the center, caught Chris's eye. It looked like a letter, so Chris began to read it.
Dear Chris,
Chris wept bitterly as he finished the note. She loved him. He loved her. Maybe he could have stopped this whole thing if he had just told her how he felt. So many times he had come so close, and now it was too late. He'd never have the privilege of a date with her, never be able to kiss her again, all because he didn't open his stupid mouth. Chris wanted to beat himself for keeping his mouth shut, when all along he really wanted to tell her what he felt for her.
"It's all my fault!" he whispered to himself. "I should've told her. She didn't have to die. I love her. Oh God, I love her! Why did she have to go?!" A new stream of tears carved its way down Chris's perfect cheek, and he repeatedly hit his forehead with the ball of his hand. "I love her," he whispered again, after calming the raging tears. "And Brie loves me." All Chris wanted at that moment was to feel the way he did when they kissed. He closed his eyes and traveled back to the memory the guestroom Brianne was staying in, her stuff all over the place, her sitting between his legs, her fingers painting over the back of his neck while that tsunami of emotions flooded them both during the kiss. Chris opened his eyes and glanced at the picture on the desk of them in Florida, feeling a little better. At least he'd have a chance to make it up.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Mom!" Chris burst through the door of his house, on a mission. "I wasn't listening if someone told me, did they save Brianne's kid?"
"Yes, they did, but I heard it had a severe weight problem and they didn't know if it would live. I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl," she realized.
"Ok, thanks. I'll be back later, I'm going to the hospital." Chris ran back out the door and arrived at the hospital a few minutes later. He first decided to visit the Morro family to ask a question.
"Mr. Morro? Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked quietly, knocking on the door, which was open.
"What is it?" Brianne's dad questioned, coming to the doorway, looking tired and worn out. Brie's mom wasn't doing so well now. Her daughter's suicide was the last straw, and she wasn't expected to live through the week. Chris pulled out Brianne's letter and handed it to her graying father. He looked at it, confused, but read it anyway. After reading it, he knew exactly what Chris wanted.
"So you want to adopt Brie's child?" he guessed, his brown eyes watching his hands fold the paper up. Chris nodded.
"It's the least I can do. I promised I'd help her out, so that's how I'll do it."
"That's very kind of you, Christopher. Have you talked it over with your mother?"
"Yup," Chris lied.
"Ok," Mr. Morro sighed. "As long as you know what you're doing. And I really hope you do."
"Thank you, Mr. Morro. Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing." Chris left that part of the hospital and walked briskly toward the room full of newborn babies in glass cribs. Brianne's child was in the intensive care unit, and a stout nurse exited as he stopped in front of the glass windowpanes.
"Excuse me," he tapped the nurse on the shoulder. "Do you know which one is Brianne Morro's?"
"Oh, yes. Beautiful baby she had. It's the girl in that crib right there," the nurse said, pointing.
"Thank you," Chris replied politely. The nurse continued her travels with a smile as Chris leaned his forehead and both hands against the cold glass. Wiggling around in her confined space, all sorts of wires and machines surrounding her, was Brianne's daughter. She finally found a comfortable position as Chris gazed at her tiny face, a miniscule smile forming.
"She deserved her mother," Chris said to himself.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
At yet another Dream Street rehearsal, Chris pulled Jesse aside when the slave driver gave them a quick break.
"You know about Brianne, right?"
"Duh," Jesse replied, rolling his eyes. "I was at the funeral, Stupid."
"Right. Do you know about your daughter then?" Jesse raise an eyebrow and slowly shook his head from side to side.
"I can't believe you," Chris told him. "Well, Brie didn't think you'd want to take care of her." Jesse shook his head more vigorously at that, "so she asked me to."
"You? Dude, you have no time! That's just as bad as me trying to take care of her!" Jesse smirked.
"Shut up. At least I actually care. Besides, like I said, Brie asked me to, and even if you let her down, I won't." Jesse gave Chris a rather evil glare. "But you need to sign the adoption papers."
"Yeah, whatever." Later, Chris and Jesse were about to sign the papers at the adoption agency, when the man said something that never occurred to Chris before.
"The child needs a birth certificate, and a name." Chris sat back in his chair, in deep thought.
"I'll name her Brianna, after her mom. Brianna Courtney Trousdale, born December second," Chris murmured. "My new daughter."
I'll probably be gone by the time you read this, but there are some things I want you to know. I have a feeling that the doctors will try to save the baby, but it's questionable whether it'll make it or not. If it does, I hope it's not too much to ask, but would you take care of it? I know Jesse won't, and Pine told me that Victoria told her that she had Gavin's kid, not yours. So since Tyler doesn't belong to you, I was hoping you might raise mine. (You'd make a great father. ) If you (definitely understandably) don't, could you just make sure it gets a good family?
As for you, my dear, keep smiling. None of this is your fault. I'll be alright up in heaven, watching over everyone, and especially you. May Dream Street take over the world! Don't worry about me, I want you to be happy. One thing I've been meaning to tell you, too; I love you. Always have, always will. You're so much more than a best friend to me. You're my guardian angel, my sun in the sky. I was so afraid to lose you if you didn't feel the same way, so I never said anything. You've been really busy with Dream Street lately, and I didn't want to take away your time from that because I know how much you love it.
Anyway, stay happy for me. If anything, don't do what I did; you're so much better than that. I just didn't see anything left for me in this life, I mean, Jesse screwed it all up for me. Although it was kind of my fault, too anyway, move on with your life and help Dream Street become the best band in the world, ok? And don't forget, I'm only physically gone. I'll always be with you.
Love, Brianne
