Fighting the Stars - A Jack Harries Fanficton

Chapter 10

A tear slid down my bruised cheek as a stared at a reflection in a mirror that looked like me, but my mind refused to believe that I was the girl staring back at me. With her puffy lip that was still oozing fresh blood, exactly three cuts on her forehead, two of them dried and scabbed, and an eye so swollen and black it didn’t even seem real. No, that couldn’t be me.

I grazed my finger over the cut in my eyebrow, the one that was still fresh due to it’s size. I leaned closer towards the mirror for a better look. I then plucked out what appeared to be one of James’s fingernails. I held it into the light, yes, that’s definitely what it was. I dropped it in the sink and washed it down the drain with a click of the faucet. 

I looked back up to see the reflection of the person whose nail I just pulled out of my skin standing behind me. His eyes were bloodshot, a sign of hangover for him.

He asks, in a softer voice than he used only a few hours ago, “Does your arm still hurt?”

I touch it with my hand. The big ache is gone, leaving only the little, underneath ache that will gather and swell around the bone of my bicep. A droplet of blood trickles out of the vein where he had grabbed me.

But I said, “It’s better now.”

I couldn’t go to class until Wednesday because of my state. I couldn’t have people asking me questions about why my face appeared to be bruised and beaten. I couldn’t tell them the truth that it actually was, in fact, bruised and beaten. No, there was no one I could tell, especially Jack.

My wounds were starting to look better. They finally reached a point where I could convince most everyone that my black eye was caused by a rogue frisbee in the park. No one would question that.

I told Jack I was sick. He offered to bring me some get-well-quick remedies, but I politely declined. I missed seeing him, though. I missed his chocolate and almond scent, the way his emerald eyes always seemed to make the world disappear when they stared into mine, and most of all, I miss being myself with him. I miss smiling.

I found myself in my most comfortable habitat, the recital room. I sat at the piano bench, playing one of my favorite, classic songs.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.”

My mom used to listen to this song all the time while she painted. That’s what she loved doing in her free time. She created the most beautiful canvas images of nature, our home, and even me. That was, until my dad forced her to quit because it was ‘distracting’ from business.

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to, go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you’ll begin to make it better.”

I really miss seeing my mother’s art.

“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool. by making this world a little colder. Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah.”

Some of her portraits used to hang on the walls of our home, making for beautiful interior decorations. But my dad took those down as well. Although, I always kept one in my room. The one she painted of me playing the piano.

“Hey Jude, don’t let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.

“So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin. You’re waiting for someone to perform with. And don’t you know that it’s just you, hey Jude, you’ll do. The movement you need is on you shoulder. Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah.”