Leda
"I can't wait for you to be Leda Morgan Vincent." Jacky stated as he played with my hands. "I can't wait either." I turned and we both smiled. "How did I get so lucky?"
Ding Dong. The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." I stated and stood up from our bed.
"Hi. How can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door to see no other than...ugh Sherri.
"What do you want?" I spat.
"I see you still live with Jacky."
"Yeah. What is if you want?"
"I want to talk to Jacky."
"What?" He apearred next to me in the doorway.
"Can we talk in private?"
"No."
"Fine. Jacky...I'm pregnant."
"WHAT?!" I yelled in total shock.
"I'm two months along."
At that point, I couldn't take anymore and went back into the house. I grabbed my purse and keys and headed out again.
"Where are you going babe?"
Jacky asked as he looked up from Sherri. "Out." I stated coldly and slammed my car door.
****
I've been driving for the past few hours. I don't even know where I'm going but I damn sure know I'm not going home anytime soon.
"Bury all your secrets in my skin...come away with innocence and leave me with my sins."
Slipknot came on and I turned it up all the way. I sang along, desperatley trying not to think about all the stuff I wanted to think about.
Eventually, I ended up at a little spot Jacky and I claimed for ourselves. It's secluded, has a little pond and lots of trees. Jacky and I placed a hammock between two of them and carved out our names with a heart around it.
I walked towards the hammock and layed there staring up at the green leaves of the trees.
There was a nice little breeze that made the hammock swing which was amazing.
I started thinking about all the happy memories Jacky and I had. Suddenly, I started thinking of all the bad things and the sky turned dark and stormy.
It began to pour and and I just stayed there with absolutley no emotion. The rain mixed in with the tears on my cheeks and made my clothes stick to my skin.
Now as the rain falls like shattered pieces of glass from the sky,
we bleed like water colors and drunken pastels down the stairways.
And I ask myself, why do I still pray?
When will it end? And who even cares?
