Naturally

I wasted another minute staring at the photo in my hand, hesitant to put it back in the drawer. It made me smile and cry at the same time, seeing how happy Jacob made me when he lifted me off the ground in a hug but also reminding me that we would never share those moments again. "Take it," May insisted. "Cause we both know you're going to regret leaving it behind."

"Why?" I argued, my grip tightening around the frame, my knuckled turning whiter than my usual pale skin. "I hate Jake, he's the reason I'm leaving the damn place. I don't need to add to painful memories I already have." I was surprised at her response.

"I'm proud of you, Marisol." I looked up at May, her smile was so contagious. She wore a huge grin on her smooth white face, one that couldn't be copied even though I tried. "You gave love a chance, and even though you we're slapped in the face in the end, you got up and continued to love him."

"I was stupid," I disagreed, slamming the picture down. I guess my true anger was showing because when it crashed onto the desk, the glass broke, shards flew everywhere, including the floor.

"Stupid?" May questioned, giving me a skeptical look. Her willow green eyes, great for glaring, would narrow and her left, thin brown brow would rise while the other would stay the same. I never saw anyone else do it like she could. "Stupid? Yes, you can be. But not for pursuing Jacob. I bet it was the bravest thing you ever done, well second to this."

"Running away?" I sarcastically shot back, May shook her head and laid her hand on my shoulder, making me shiver because of her icy cold touch.

"Moving on," she replied smoothly before disappearing before my eyes. But I still heard her voice echo in my dim lit room, "you walked away and I know how hard that is for you to do. But just because you gave up doesn't mean you're weak. You're still the fighter I knew you were before, just a wiser one. You came here, took an opportunity, gained more experience, and over all grew stronger." We both looked down at the fame which I flipped over to see the picture inside. "Jacob should remind you of that," she whispered, swiping her transparent finger over his face. "That's why you should take this, a symbol of your strength." I showed her small smiled, taking the picture from the frame and held it in my hand.

"It still makes me mad," I said to May. I felt a cold breeze pass me, I looked behind me and saw May walk over to the window next to the bed across the room, peering through the curtains. I slid the photo into the front pocket of my black backpack, next to my red iPod.

"Why wouldn't it?" I sat down on my bed, my legs were feeling weak and I was afraid I'd collapse. "That idiot did nothing but hurt you, he knows that, which is why he should suffer. You didn't deserve the hell he put you through. You learned your lessons, he should, too." May appeared next to me. "He doesn't deserve you anymore and he's going to learn that in a very short time when he realizes you aren't coming back." May moved to the window again, tilting her head against the glass, her long maple brown hair falling over her shoulders. "You will be leaving soon, so you should start writing that note to your mother before Taylor picks you up." I pulled out my red, flat flip phone from my jean's pocket to look at the time; it was very close to one so I only had ten minutes to write, I didn't think that was much time since I had so much to say to the bitch. My room was right next to the stairs; I wasted no minute rushing down them to the kitchen which was on my left. I pulled out a piece of paper from one of my notebooks lying on the kitchen table. "I don't know what to write," I hoarsely admitted. I was on the verge of tears remembering all the shit she put me through, so maybe I did have a few ideas to mention in the letter but I didn't know how to start.

"Then don't," May suggested, looking at the purple marker in my hand. "Why even bother with her? She probably won't care anyways; actually she'd probably be happy that you decided the leave. Maybe that was her goal these past sixteen years, to make you hate her so much that you'd run away from her money that she can now spend carelessly." That angered me, not May, the truth. These past sixteen years she did nothing but ruin my life, moving me away from my friends to suffer endless rain and cold away from the sunshine back in California I missed so much. I wrote in large, bold letters I'M GONE, GOOD JOB. I slammed the marker down next to my textbook and sat in one of the chairs.