Breathe for Me

By Claren McGivney

When all grows dark and full of fear, she hears the words "Breathe for me."

Come, be swept away by a sad yet suspenseful mystery and enthralling romance. Breathe for Me, the debut novel by Claren McGivney, is a fictional tale about a girl in her senior year, fated by tragedy, where, just beyond, a chilling, enchanting adventure awaits.

You will follow Tess on a breathtaking journey far away from home to a coastal town in Ireland and into a ghost story that is centuries old.

Experience her mystical dreams, strange happenings, and unfamiliar surroundings in frightful intrigue.

Draped in Celtic folklore and Druid magic, Tess's story will have you wandering cobblestone streets and emerald-green landscapes as she searches for her best friend. And where she finds a sweet, unexpected romance entwined with a fabled mystery amid the ancient, haunted ruins of Ireland.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891575189

Book preview

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Breathe for Me

Claren McGivney

Copyright © 2024 Claren McGivney

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89157-507-3 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-89157-518-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

For my little sister

Kelly Cauleen McGivney

July 13, 1968–October 11, 1984

Chapter 1

I awoke to my pillow vibrating. Reaching under my pillow, I found my phone and turned over. My blinds were up. The dirty glass shimmered in sync with my phone's vibrations. The glare from the window made it hard for me to see who was calling.

Hello?

Tess… It was a whisper. Then louder, Oh my god, Tess.

What? I rolled over and winced as a shooting pain went through my ribs.

Loud sniffling. Uh, umm…Dylan…, he moaned. Dylan…died, Tess.

I switched the phone to my other ear. Wait, I groaned. I forced my body to sit up. What? Wait…what? I had to clear my throat. When? Like, I was just there…

Oh god… His voice cracked. Dylan's big brother, Lenny, was struggling to speak. I know, I know. He sniffed. Dude, this morning, Mom and I were with her…and she…just, like, stopped breathing. He gasped, Dude, she's…gone.

I'll be right there, I said, swinging my sore leg over the side of the bed. I shook my head, like to erase the horrible words I had just heard, but pain immediately traveled up the right side of my head and pounded like a hammer behind my right eye. Holy crap. I wasn't supposed to make any sudden moves.

Tess? my stepdad said from my bedroom doorway. I stood up and was completely unsteady, so I leaned against my bed for support.

Dylan died, I said weakly.

There was an audible pause in the universe. Like, the earth stopped revolving, and the air felt thick around my head. I looked out my window. The stillness was crisp and cold like ice. Sharp points of color outlined the one lone tree standing in the yard. Everything was hyper-focused. It literally hurt looking at the blue of the sky. I closed my eyes.

Jesus, Tom said, and it sounded like a prayer.

Chapter 2

It had been hella windy that Thursday afternoon. Dylan and I had blown off our eighth-period class, lifetime fitness with Ms. Worley (we called her Worthless), and had gone to Dylan's house to have lunch with her mom, Glena.

Dylan lived in a little brick house on Deer Cliff Drive. Glena had served orange peel tea and ham sandwiches. Sometimes, on Fridays, we'd have creamed sherry and cake.

We were heading back to school to get my car, and it had started to rain. Dylan was driving and trying to find a song on her iPhone. She was balancing her can of Dr. Pepper on the steering wheel with one hand and fiddling with her phone in the other.

Check out what I downloaded last night. I love this song! she said and turned up the volume. A strong percussion beat streamed out through the speakers. I think the song had been an Ariana Grande song.

Dylan was singing at the top of her lungs, bouncing in her seat. Like, she was so crazy I couldn't help but laugh at her.

Come on, my girl, sing with me! she said to me, her pinky finger and her thumb making a headset microphone.

I had laughed at her and shook my head. She was wearing her new aqua blue sweater, and her long blond hair was statically clinging to the back of her seat.

It started raining, like, really hard. And I remember looking out of the passenger window at the big drops pelting the black asphalt, each one splashing down with angry strokes. Dylan turned the windshield wipers up to full speed and then tossed her empty soda can into the back seat.

Dude, look, she said. The wipers are, like, keeping time with the music. She stuck her pointer fingers up and moved them along with the wipers side to side on top of the steering wheel. Both of her long, pale fingers had thick silver rings on them.

I laughed at her. Whatever you say, bestie.

She turned her head to look at me, wagging her perfectly shaped eyebrows. And then she playfully pushed my shoulder with her elbow, and I laughed at her.

Suddenly, headlights were coming straight at us!

Dylan had yelled something and pulled the steering wheel hard to the right. My head whipped around and hit the side window. Then my stomach flipped over, and I was, like, floating above my seat, and bam! We were rolling! The seatbelt chopped me in half as I grabbed for the dashboard. A loud, screeching metal sound made me shudder, and I bit my tongue. We were sliding on our side, yellow and orange sparks threatening to consume us.

Suddenly, slam! We hit something very big and very black.

A semitruck and trailer had lost control. We slammed sideways into the back of it, and my head exploded in pain. I remember hearing glass breaking, and then I heard Dylan calling my name. Tessie? Tessssssie?

There was a bright flash of light, which I thought, Must be lightning. Then everything was silent.

Weightless and empty, nothing above me or below me. Floating.

Then pain pulsed across my forehead. My mouth was covered, and I couldn't breathe. Cold, wet needles stung my face. Whooshing sounds in my ears like I was under water or something. I remember hearing muffled words, but I couldn't understand what they were saying.

Then I heard Dylan, clear as anything, Breathe for me, Tessie. Breathe.

I took a deep breath, and like, the worst pain ever exploded in my chest.

Chapter 3

I had a severe concussion and an injured eardrum. My two broken ribs were probably from the EMTs giving me CPR.

There was a laceration down the outside of my right leg from thigh to midcalf, and it was beeping gnarly looking. They had braced it straight so I couldn't bend it.

The doctor told my stepdad that I had expired at the scene. That's the word he used, expired. I guess the EMTs had saved my life. I'd been pretty much out of it for a couple of days. But the minute I was alert, all I wanted was to find Dylan.

My nurse, Chelsea, was the one who told me, Breathe, Tess, just breathe.

Dylan was in ICU on the second floor in a coma.

*****

When Tom, my stepdad, came to visit me after he got off work, like, I had just burst into tears and pleaded with him to take me to see Dylan.

Tom looked at me, all concerned. Okay, honey, okay. But you don't look so good. Are you sure you want to go right now?

Yes, yes, yes, I said. Please! Don't you see, Dylan is wondering where I am! Then I tried moving the wheelchair myself, grunting at the pain in my ribs.

Whoa there, Tess, okay, okay. I'll take ya. Man, of course, I'll take ya. He grabbed a tissue and handed it to me. Jeez, I've never seen you cry like 'at before, honey. You must be hurtin' real bad, huh?

Without looking up at him, I pinched my nose with the tissue and said in a snotty, gravelly voice, No, I'm good. Then I wiped my nose one more time and said, forcing a little smile, I just…like, really need to see Dylan, okay?

Well, all righty then, Tom said with a grin.

Chapter 4

Tom wheeled me out of the elevator, and I saw Lenny sitting with his head in hands outside the double doors of the ICU.

When Lenny heard us coming, he looked up. Crap. He looked bad. Real bad. Like, totally bloodshot eyes, and his hair was all greasy and pushed off his forehead. His back shirt and jeans were all wrinkled, like they had been put away wet, or something.

I've known him since I was ten. Back then, he was a skinny, obnoxious twerp. He used to bug the crap out of me.

Today, I totally loved him to death.

He mussed the top of my hair. Hey, Tessa-lump, he said soberly. How's your face? I had a large bump on my forehead, a nasty scrape on my cheek, and blood in my eye. I tried to smile at him. No, don't smile. I'm not even kidding. That red eye is creepy AF.

I ignored his comments. Like, how is she? I asked him.

He shrugged and looked toward the doors. I don't know. She…uh…, he tried to say, and I felt the first twinge of fear.

Uh, is it okay if we go in? I asked him.

Oh, yeah. Dude, maybe you can get her to wake up, he said, standing up. He opened one of the double doors for us and held it so Tom could push me through.

The two nurses looked at us as we came in.

Tom said, I'll just wait outside.

Lenny took the handles from Tom and turned the wheelchair around. As Lenny was pulling me backward into the ICU, I gave Tom a little wave, but he didn't see it. He was looking past me into the ICU through the glass partition. Something was wrong. He looked scared. I almost said something to him, but he just turned around and walked out.

I was pretty shaken by the look on Tom's face. It scared me. Like, what was I going to see?

Steel bars caged her in, and there were tubes, like, everywhere. The bed was so high that I couldn't see her really. She was somewhere beneath the mound of white sheets and blankets.

I looked up and noticed a round mirror in the corner, and as I looked at it, I slowly began to realize that Dylan's reflection was in there.

Her whole head was wrapped in white gauze, and her eyes were black and blue. This huge bluish tube was coming out of her mouth, and the attached machine was making sucking sounds.

Oh my god, I whimpered, putting shaky fingers over my mouth. I couldn't deal—this mass of injuries was my best friend! I looked around for Lenny, but he was gone. A flood of emotion filled my throat and nose. I almost choked.

I knew this was bad, very bad.

Right where I was gripping her bedsheets, I saw her hand lying very still. A tiny bit of pink flesh was poking out of the bandages. OMG! It was her little finger. Dylan!

With trembling fingers, I touched Dylan's warm, perfect pinky finger. Hey, Dilly girl, I said as I stroked her finger with the tip of mine. I'm right here.

You have to tell her, Tess. Tell her everything's going to be okay.

And so I told her to rest and dream of her favorite things. I told her that I would take care of her. I told her that I loved her.

And I told her everything was going to be okay, but I knew, even as I was saying it, with tears streaming down my face, I knew I was lying to us both.

*****

Dylan died at 6:05 a.m. one week later.

We were standing awkwardly in the hall outside of ICU, Glena, Lenny, and Dylan's little brother, Sam.

I sat down in a stiff brown plastic chair and stared out the window across from me at the motionless clouds blotting an otherwise clear blue sky. Stillness was a word that I had never really understood before. But stillness was what surrounded me as I sat motionless in the chair.

They say that when you are about to die, your life flashes before your eyes, right? Well, for me, when Dylan died, it was my life that flashed before my eyes. Because Dylan was in all my memories.

*****

When I was little, my mom and I moved around a lot. So like, I was pretty much a loner. Didn't have any friends. Until third grade, when we moved to Boulder, Colorado.

It had been a warm day in October, like around Halloween, maybe. I was sitting against the south wall during recess, reading my book of the week, when a shadow fell across my lap, completely blocking the sun. I looked up.

There stood Dylan, the tallest person in the whole class, even taller than the boys. She had long, white-blond hair and used to wear those different-colored headbands. Of course, I knew who she was 'cause, like, everybody did.

What are you reading? she had asked me. Her face was in shadow. But the sunlight outlined her head like a halo.

"Uh…it's called Sky Girl," I had said shyly.

Really? What's it about? she had asked and plopped down next to me.

I saw curiosity and interest in her blue eyes, and it had surprised me. I said, Well…it's about a girl from an American Indian tribe who dies and she has to search the forest to find the tree to the spirit world. I paused. She sat patiently waiting. I continued, And then she climbs up.

Dylan's mouth had dropped open. What's up there?

Sky Village, I had answered.

And Dylan said, That's waaay awesome. What else?

Every time I answered her, she just asked another question. And then the bell rang. She had jumped up and said, Hey, finish telling me tomorrow at lunch, 'kay?

After that day, she became my best friend. And I started doing everything with her, which meant either running, skipping, or twirling.

Dylan, like, made me twirl around and around until we were dizzy and out of breath. Then we would fall to the ground with our arms spread wide, embracing the sky.

How could a life like that be gone?

It should've been me.

Chapter 5

I lived with my stepdad, Tom, in Sunny Trails Trailer Park.

My mom, Lorie May Leary, had married him when I was eight. I didn't know who my biological father was. Lorie never told me his name. Like, I wasn't sure she knew. For real, though.

Tom was a lot older than my mom, but Lorie said he had a good job with a pension and benefits and he'd take care of us. However, my mom soon hooked up with a guy that fixed motorcycles in Golden.

I did not want to move with her. For one, her boyfriend, Mitch, totally creeped me out the way he looked at me. And two, I was in the advanced program at school, and I wasn't going to leave my friends.

And so my mom moved out. And I stayed.

Tom had said it was okay. He did the same thing every week. He'd work all day, come home, hang his jacket by the front door, and go into the kitchen for a beer. We'd have dinner, and he'd watch television until bedtime. On Friday nights, he'd go to the High Dive for a whiskey and Coke with his friends from work.

Tom and I agreed that I'd do most of the cooking and all the laundry, and he paid the bills and basically left me alone. He was a sweet old man who had a live-and-let-live attitude. He was medium build with shaggy gray hair and was super nice.

He called me kiddo.

Chapter 6

Two days after Dylan died, we were at the dining table in Dylan's house. There was Lenny and his best friend, Josh; Glena; the next-door neighbors, Bob and Carrie; Sam; and me.

Sam was Dylan's brilliant little brother. He'd turn eleven in another month and looked so much like her that my heart hurt just looking at him sitting across the table from me.

Carrie was reading aloud what they had written so far for Dylan's obituary.

And like, I just couldn't sit there anymore, so I stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the table because my leg had stiffened. Lenny had looked questionably at me. I just shook my head and limped into the kitchen.

I stood at the kitchen sink, looking out at Dylan's backyard. Dylan called them tiki lights, the tiny lights that were strung along the fence and across the patio. Like a fairy garden, it was a sweet little paradise where Dylan and I spent lots of lazy summer afternoons drinking iced tea.

A sob stuck in my throat.

We won't be hanging out this summer. We won't be hanging out ever again!

Tears streamed down my face, and I felt a hand on my lower back. Glena stood next to me. She looked at me and sighed heavily. Oh, baby, come here. She turned my face toward her. She wiped my tears with her thumbs. She had tears in her eyes too. Then she hugged me tight.

Glena was very pretty. Shoulder-length brown hair with blond highlights curled back from her face. Her torso was thin, and her waist was small, but her hips were round and curvy. Her hands were feminine and beautiful to watch. When she talked, they fluttered from her delicate wrists around her. Her hazel eyes literally twinkled when she was joking around.

I'd always wished that Glena had been my mother, and when I told her so on my thirteenth birthday, Glena had just smiled brightly and said, I would love to be your godmother. How about that?

And so yeah, Dylan and I became god-sisters.

Glena and I hugged for a minute. Then she pulled back, wiped her eyes with a tissue, and asked, Wanna help me get Lenny some soup or something because he hasn't eaten anything? He and Josh have drank a few beers, and I'm afraid he's going to fall over.

There was tons of food everywhere you looked. Bags of rolls and boxes of cookies filled the countertops. Jugs of punch stood in a line next to the refrigerator like they were waiting to get in.

More food was stuffed in the refrigerator. Meat and cheese trays were balancing precariously on top of two gallons of milk. There were casseroles, fried chicken, and even a pie.

And as I'd looked at all of it, I remember thinking, Too bad no one felt like eating.

Chapter 7

The Rockridge Church wasn't far from Dylan's house. Sammy had a good friend. Um, what was his name? Anyway, Sammy's friend played guitar there on Sundays.

Pastor Dave, looking like he was about my age, I'm not even kidding, was nodding and giving us all these sad little smiles as he was talking with Glena about Dylan's funeral. He was saying, You will want to be here around 9:00 a.m. so we can get everything set up the way you would like. Flowers will probably start arriving here day after tomorrow. The Ladies of Rock will collect them and catalog them for you. They will also arrange them on the platform next to Dylan's remains and her photo.

Remains? Whaaaat?

Pastor Dave had continued without pause, hurrying through the words, Dylan's celebration is going to be beautiful. Try not to worry about anything.

I wanted to scream!

She was only eighteen! Why are you talking celebration? We should be sad and cry and wear black and be altered for life! You stupid, horrible man! We should never ever be celebrating!

I'd put angry, shaky fingers to my lips, feeling them tremble. Glena was crying quietly behind her handkerchief.

Excuse me, I have to use the restroom. I had to get away.

I stood up and swayed a little, wincing as I stepped down on my injured leg.

After shutting the door behind me, I leaned against the wall trying to breathe as tears streamed down my face.

Chapter 8

It was very dark and very cold by the time I walked up my front steps. I pulled my Levi jacket as tight as I could around me while I stood in front of the metal screen door. My breath billowed out.

I looked at my reflection in the glass.

I'm not going to lie, I looked like crap. My hair was stringy and plastered to the sides of my face. My cheeks looked like two gaping holes under my puffy eyes.

I pulled open the screen door and heard the familiar screech. I reached for the door handle, and it flew open.

Oh, there you are, kiddo, Tom said, stepping aside for me to enter.

He was holding a yellow Post-it note in one hand and a Bud Light in the other. Your counselor at school, um, Ms. Shirley, called. She's got your week's homework assignments. Said you could call her tomorrow. She left a message on your phone. Tom handed me the note.

Okay, thanks. I'll call her. I moved past him toward the hallway.

Do you want something to eat? I stopped at Jumbo Burger on the way home and bought a cheeseburger and fries for you. He tilted his head a little to the side and tried to smile. Might be a little cold, but you can nuke 'em, he said.

I looked over at the white greasy sack sitting all by itself on the kitchen table. Oh, thanks, I said with a lump forming in my throat. I swallowed with difficulty and said, "I'm not really hungry right now. Maybe later?

He nodded, saying, "Sure, sure, whatever you need, kiddo.

*****

I'm walking. Alone. Through a shady glade of woods. Sunlight spots the ground with leafy shapes all around me. Beneath my feet, the spongy path smells like wet dirt.

I hear a girl laughing. Almost giggling. I tilt my head to the sound. It sounds familiar. I look behind me, but no one is there. Only the bright-green bushes, literally bursting with foliage, lining the narrow path.

The laughing stops. And I'm walking again. Soon I realize I've walked this path before. But when? IDK, but I did know that the path would soon wind around a corner.

Behind me, the laughing starts again. I stop and spin around, squinting in search of…the girl.

But there's nothing, so I turn back and…bam!

I slam into someone with such force that it knocks me to the ground.

*****

I jolted awake. I couldn't breathe. I pulled on the front of my shirt, like, trying to get air into my lungs. Just as I started to panic. I sucked some air in. I coughed. Coughed again. And pushed myself up to sitting.

And that was when I heard the laughing.

I tried to listen for where it was coming from, but it was, like, all around me. I wasn't dreaming anymore. I was awake. Suddenly, my stomach fluttered and rolled. Putting my hands against my stomach, I felt it trembling. Oh my god, it was shaking with laughter. Like, the laughter was inside me.

Chapter 9

Why didn't you call me? Your friend dies in a car accident. You almost die, for Christ's sake, Tess! What's up with that? I had to hear it from Tom?

Her name, Mom, is Dylan. And she wasn't just a friend. I gritted my teeth. Um, like, I've been busy, you know, helping with…stuff.

Yeah? Okay. I guess, I understand, she said. When's the funeral?

Thursday, I said, but added quickly, But like, you don't need to come or anything. It's going to be a pretty small service, so…like, you don't have to take work off.

I heard her sigh with relief.

Well, I won't drive in then, she said, and I heard ice tinkling in her glass. Then sucking on a piece of ice, she muffled out, You're going to be okay, Tess… Slurp, slurp. You always are.

Chapter 10

I sat in the second row, on the end, so I could stretch my injured leg out. Glena, Lenny, and Sam were sitting directly in front of me. The service was just about to begin.

Twisting a tissue in my hands, I stared at the huge blank projector screen behind the podium. A loud noise startled me, and I looked over to see a muscular dude pushing an upright piano toward the front.

I was transfixed, like, instantly. For real. I couldn't take my eyes off it. Then the edges around the piano blurred, and I fell into a kind of daze.

Glena broke the spell. She turned around to look at me, and the sadness in her expression made me wince. She reached out and patted my hand.

And the service began.

A beautiful, smiling picture of Dylan's face appeared on the screen, and the lights dimmed respectfully.

There she was.

Holy crap. My heart began to pound. Awww…I love the photo of her! There was my bestie, smiling, all tall, and graceful, with those big blue eyes, the color of swimming pools.

I took a ragged breath and looked down at the floor.

Pastor Dave lightly tapped the microphone and said, Welcome to the celebration of Dylan McConnell's life. On behalf of her family and friends, I would like to thank you all for coming.

After praying and blessing us all, Pastor Dave encouragingly invited anyone to please, come on up and say a few words about Dylan.

After a few minutes, the sounds of sniffling, throats clearing, and chairs shuffling descended into silence.

I held my breath.

*****

Jana Ross, Dylan's yoga teacher, had talked about her shine. And she'd asked us to take a little piece of Dylan's spirit and share it the way she did.

Breathe, Tess.

I pinched my nose and wiped under my eyes, and there was Brad Armstrong, who dated Dylan for, like, two months, three weeks, and one day too long last year, standing at the podium.

He was all fake, sniffing and shiz. And then he actually said, I'll never forget her.

Yeah, butt-wipe. Whateverrrrr.

And then, like, these four hipster girls from I don't even know where, dressed in short skirts with different-colored socks on each foot, walked up to the podium. Their light-brown heads were dreadlocked with multicolored strings of thread woven in their hair. They hung on one another, carrying on, like…yeah, they knew Dylan.

Oh my god! I think they're sophomores!

And just like that, I literally knew what Dylan would say, How eff'd up is it to use a funeral just to get out of school?

Just then my phone vibrated with a text message.

Parker: What the hell was that? Can you not just hear Dylan asking "wtf are they