Lost

Chapter 5 ~ ☾☀

With Adein gone, I slowly open the front door. I peak inside to see if anyone's around, and when I see she's not there, I go inside. I know mum's not asleep yet, so I'm careful to avoid her wherever she is. I tiptoe toward and up the stairs so as not to be heard, but once I'm upstairs I sprint to the bathroom. I don't even bother grabbing any night clothes, I just lock myself in the room, turn on the fan and start the shower. With the water running, I finally feel safe. I sink to the floor, curl up into a ball, and begin to cry.

This isn't some movie where the girl is crying over her boyfriend leaving, with the tears running down her face, careful not to mess up her makeup. No, this is real life, and I'm sitting here on the floor ugly crying. While I don't wear makeup, if I did, the tears would be smearing it all over the place. And my sobs are anything but cute. I'm sure there's snot dripping from my nose, as the harder I cry, the harder it becomes to breathe. But why am I crying?

I'm not some broken-hearted girl who's crying over her boyfriend leaving– no, I'm 17 years old and I have a little more maturity than that. No, I'm crying because today was one of the worst days I've had in a while.

I try so hard not to let anyone see the weak side of me, but sometimes I wish that I could be vulnerable with the one person I'm supposed to trust the most. But I feel like I can't... I feel like I have to pretend like everything's fine around him even though it's everything but fine.

Ok, he's been avoiding me because he was scared to break the news that he was leaving for most of the summer– the one time a year when we can really spend time together without having to worry about school. And I don't care about that, we'll always have the final few weeks of summer to be together. It's just that I was really thinking that after two years he'd finally tell me he loves me, but there wasn't even a mention when I lashed out at him that of course he loves me...

And to top it all off, I'm not even sure if I love him. I mean, don't get me wrong, the first few months were amazing, for once in my life, someone actually made me feel special, and not just because I'm pretty or because I have a nice body, but truly special. He made me feel like there was someone who truly understood me, and it was perhaps the best feeling ever... But then, one day, it just stopped. The day came where our conversations were less interesting, less engaged. It was like there was a spark between us, but before it could grow into a flame, it lost all oxygen and died out.

I thought that maybe if he told me he loves me that it would fix everything, but I'm just not sure... So here I am, curled up in a ball, crying on my bathroom floor.

Minutes pass, and I just can't stop. I can't even feel the heat as the steam fills the room. I can't hear as the water pours out onto the shower floor. I can see anything trough the tears running down from my eyes. I just hurt. All over. And I want it to stop but I don't know how to make it. So, realizing that I'm wasting water, I get up, and take off my black dress, and get into the shower.

•.✦.✧.✦.✧.•☾☀•.✦.✧.✦.✧.•

After a quick shower, I felt... clean. Still a little down, but at least I wasn't crying anymore. I walk across the short hall to my bedroom, and I grab a black, cotton nightgown with a pink flower pattern on it. It wasn't the cutest thing in the world, but I don't really care about my appearance.

The nightgown came down only to just above my knees, as it was newly summer, and thus, a little warm outside. I turn on my ceiling fan and crawl into bed with the light still on. I lie there just staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I'll be able to get some sleep tonight. I have so much I could be thinking about, but my mind is blank.

Sometimes, I wish I had a ceiling window so that I could look up at the sky in my room– I've always felt drawn to the sky for some reason. And I know, I should be grateful for what I do have, and I am, it's just such a hassle to get up on the roof. Luckily, I don't have to, as I do have a small balcony area outside of my room. We only decided this room to be mine for the fact that it has a balcony because my mum was tired of me trying to climb up to the roof as a kid or going out into the yard to look up at the stars in the middle of the night. This house is so big for just the two of us, and even though it's in the middle of a small town in nowhere, she still says it's not safe for me to just be out by myself during the late hours. Overprotective parent, I guess.

I get up to turn off the lights, but when I do, I get this sudden chill like someone– or no, something is watching me. It quickly fades, and I go out to the railing and look up at the night sky. The stars shine bright, and I feel this warmth within me. It's hard to explain, but whenever the moon is full or the sun is at her highest point during the day, I get this strange feeling, like I feel stronger or something. And it's funny because when I was a little kid, my mum used to tell me stories about this princess, who was the daughter of the sun and moon, and I used to pretend I was her– but that's ridiculous, I'm just an insignificant human and those are made up fairytales to give children good dreams.

I don't know how long I stayed out there just looking up at the moon, but eventually, I felt this strange urge to tell him about my problems. And by the time I finished, I felt better. I don't know why I felt like the moon cares about my problems, but it was so soothing to imagine that there was someone out there listening to me, caring about me. And once, I had said everything I needed to say, I was able to go and get a good night's sleep...