Chapter: 38 Spaces

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Samantha's P.O.V.

Two weeks later...

I just got back from Doctor Reed's office. The healing on my wound was exceptional, and now all I had to do was wear the garment and not the bandages. I was given two fresh bottles of the ointments I had been using, and some kind of pain killer, even though I was no longer experiencing burning or pain feelings.

Now, it was about to be three, and I was at Elly-Ann's house, staring out the only window. It was raining. Not a big lightning storm, but one of those cheap drizzles. Each little raindrop that hit the glass slid down the window like a little race car. Sometimes colliding with other drops to form one huge one, and sometimes avoiding all the other drops and remaining small until they met the window's end. I like the little ones better. They aren't reckless, nor are they speeding to get to the end. They may not always run into another drop and become bigger, but that's okay. They want to remain small in order to complete a slow and steady life on the window. I wish I could be like them.

A muffled clap of thunder roared in the distance. Saying I hated storms would be a lie, but saying I like them would be a lie too. The thunder was oddly peaceful, yet scary. Do not ask me for an explanation because I have none. All I know is cloudy skies mean an awkward and foreign feeling for me. I laid my elbow down on the edge of the window. I was kneeling on the recently moved loveseat, relaxed by the window.

Latley, I've been trying my best to block out my own thoughts. It doesn't fully work, and usually I can't help but think about anything and everything. Ranging from noodle loving space caterpillars, to realistic things like Niall or a familliar sociopath. I have come to realize I cannot block out my own ideas. More or less, I have tried to come to embrace them. I'm not going to pretend being able to think about all sorts of things has made me happy. It really has brought back a depressional state. But at this point, with short evening shifts at work, and so much time on my hands, I can't hold down things. I just think about them, and no longer stress myself out attempting to force amnesia.

I definitely still think about Niall. Actually, at least four, five times a day he pops into my mind. I wonder if he has a new 'lady friend' yet. I doubted it, I think that would be too soon even for a celebrity. I had not been stalking him online, trust me I had no idea of the basic problems of his life right now. This however, did not mean I did not creepily look up photos of him I could just look at. Anymore I sound like a teenage girl, only wanting to see his face again to coo over. The only reason I do, is because I miss him and his face. I can't help but miss his dorky little animal laugh, or his serious face, his bright and big ole' eyes, his hair, his voice, and there I go again. Oh gosh...

He was the best thing in my life ever, and the normal person will miss the best thing in their life if it happens to disappear. That was a total dick move. I knew it. But, no matter how much I tell myself that, it doesn't change the fact that it still hurts. It doesn't matter how many times I call him stupid and so many more vulgar names, because at the end of the day, I'm still in pain over him abandoning me. I loved him for God's sake, and I'm very sure he knew that. Why dare leave someone and cut all ties with them when they claim to love you? That's just horribly inconsiderate of others.

Sure, I have not known Niall a full year yet (almost though, about a week from now I believe), but I'd like to think I'm not someone you should leave alone. Even Elly-Ann gets that! And God knows how well her mind works... Niall should understand too. He is sane and he uses his brain most of the time. He does know better! I know it! He must know he is doing something wrong, I mean I left him a few voicemails crying. He has to be blind and deaf to not consider something as a factor in how this is effecting me.

The rain reminds me of how I feel now. So dark, sad, depressed, always crying and pouting. That is how I was before last year, and that is how I am this year. I was so lost in life, I needed Niall then, and he came to me. Then as if the big man in the sky tried to pull some sick joke, he made Niall leave. As the source of my happiness left me, so did the joy to be happy. I couldn't pull off a happy smile anymore. It was more of a half hearted smile, that went sour not a second later. I remember the times when I could smile so big, the Cheshire cat would be jealous. Now, I'm a shell of my old self. That self that was alive for a year, but died again a year later. That is what I am a shell of. I doubted this shell will ever see life again.
Thinking of that, I turned to the table not too far to my right. There was all my medical supplies, spread out. The two bottles of ointment, the pain relievers, the two bottles of treatment for the burn, and some soda bottle to drink it all down. But the orange pill bottles caught my eye. Wouldn't it be nice to just end it all? Take all of those pills right now, instead of saving them. To be truthful, I was not taking anything from either pill bottle ever since the end of the first week. Not that I didn't want the burn to heal, but I had a better plan.

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