63rd St.

Chapter 2

Maybe if I hit my head against the wall a few times, the ringing in my ears will be louder than the tv...

The ring of my phone snaps my out of my thoughts. I cringe at how loud it's coming into my ears through the headphones, and hurry and check the ID. 

It's Andrew.

My heart rate pics up, but I immediately trying to calm myself down before I answer.

"Hey." My voice came out shakier than I expected.

"What are you doing right now?" He asks forcefully, sending a shiver down my spine.

Don't stutter.

"I'm sitting on my bed I was about to listen to some music. Why?"

"What am I not allowed to fucking ask?" His voice pics up, anger ridden all through it.

"I- no of course you can baby. I was just wondering if there was a specific reaso-"

My sentence is cut short when I hear a suspiciously feminine laugh in the background.

"Are you with someone?" My question has a hint of reluctance in it.

"What so you don't trust me now? Am I not allowed to hang out with my friends anymore without you jumping to fucking conclusions? Huh?"

That's why I was scared to ask, he always does this when I ask him about that stuff.

"I was just asking. I can ask stuff too you know."

"You don't always have to be such a curious little kitten all the time. This is the last thing I need right now Athena. Call me when you're ready to stop acting like a bitch!" He shouts, before hanging up on me.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare up at the ceiling to try to keep the tears from falling. I don't like being emotional but his antics always strike a chord within me.

I try to trust him, I really do. He tells me he's only with friends and I try to believe him, I want to be better at trusting him, and at least try to believe he's changed.

But how?

How can I trust him when he's already broken my trust so many times before.

How can I believe him when he's lied to me so many times before.

It's almost like he's taunting me. Like he does these things on purpose like hang out with other girls because he knows it'll make me jealous, or buys another girl flowers on Valentine's Day, but claims she's just a friend.

And he does it all because he knows I won't leave him. I'll sit back and take it, until I can't anymore. And even once I reach my breaking point, he'll find a way to guilt me out of breaking up with him as if i've done something so evil.

The worst part about it all is that he's right. I cant leave him, I probably never will.

I'm not willing to let go of everything we once had. Not yet at least.

I slam my phone on the bed and run across the room to my backpack from earlier.

I retrieve the dingy pack of cigarettes and open my window, propping myself up on the sill so that I'm sitting sideways, parallel to my room and the street.

My mom would be yelling her head right now if she were here. She hates when I sit on the window like this, so she yells and yells, but never actually does anything about it.

God forbid she'd ever put any effort into anything right?

Aside from the part of me that does this just to spite her, a big part of me loves the thrill. It gives a just enough of an adrenaline rush to keep me satisfied, knowing there is a possibility of falling to my death makes me feel even more alive somehow.