Oblivion

Chapter 50

Paxton Clark

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy,

I hate it here. All the prisoners around me treat me like I'm shit. I thought I was gonna be in juvie but I'm 20 now. My birthday was the day after you... died. I was hoping once we finished our mission we could tell your dad about us and he'd let you go to art school and we could celebrate all of it together. You'd be turning 19 soon, I would've got you a giant canvas and you could paint a beautiful painting and I'd hang it up in my bedroom. You could've taught me some cool art tricks and when I'd fail you could make fun of me and you'd laugh at me. I love your laugh.

-Paxton (the guy who can't do art)

I listen to the sound of scratching coming from across my cell. I try to ignore and close my eyes to get sleep but the scratching gets louder. I jolted up in my bed and looked at Victor's cell that was across from mine, he was using a sharp rock and was engraving something into the brick walls.

"Would you stop making that stupid noise?!" I shout at him.

He stops and looks at me.

"No." He blurts out.

"Victor, people are trying to sleep." I tell him.

"You aren't sleeping, all you do is cry about that girl." He says.

"I told you not to say anything about her." I snap.

"Well guess what, lover boy?" He begins. "I don't care." He adds before going back to the engraving.

I sigh before looking down in my laps.

I felt so weak, like I wasn't able to do anything knowing she wasn't here. I regret everything I said at the hotel that night, I didn't mean it. I wouldn't have said it if I knew I'd lose her forever that same night.

I felt tears slip down my face and sobs left my mouth soon after.

"Paxton?" I hear Victor's voice.

I'd never heard him say my actual name before.

"Leave me alone, Victor." I tell him as I place my head in the palms of my cold hands.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, man." He says.

"I'm not crying because of you!" I snap at him.

"Is it because of her?" He questions.

"Of course it is! It's always her! Dammit, I can't stop thinking about that night." I shout.

"You can talk to me." He says.

I look at him in confusion.

"I don't need a therapist." I tell him.

"I don't want to be your therapist but I want to try and help you." He explains.

I stare at him for a moment.

"It was all my fault." My voice came out as a croak.

"How?"

"If I hadn't had said all those terrible things, then all of sudden told her I loved her, she wouldn't have ran out of the building where they took her." I mourned.

"She was the only person I truly cared about. The one person I'd die for." I added as more sobs left my mouth.

"You did nothing wrong. You were angry, you couldn't help what you said. But she still loved you. She made sure you lived." Victor says.

I don't say anything and stare into my lap.

"She was the darkness that brought light into my life but I was the fire that burned her down." I say, silently but loud enough for Victor to hear.

"You should go to bed, man. Give yourself a break. You'll see her again, one day." He tells me before walking to his bed and getting into the covers.

I sat there for a few more minutes before laying back down and forcing myself to fall asleep.