Tatted

GHOSTING

"Aren't we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they'll tell us we make sense?"

*****

TYLER'S POV

A few days ago, I had made one of the most dangerous, jeopardizing decisions of my life.

And it was bringing her into it.

She didn't know what she'd signed up for. She hadn't read the fine print. She accepted and like the selfish man I was, it satisfied me.

I kept her utterly clueless. I appreciated when she turned a blind eye to every suspicious move I made.

I took my wretched life an wrapped it in sparkly paper, a bow and all.

All because the thought that I would be the one to make her happy- to make her smile- intruiged me. So much that I had ignored every stop sign warning me to keep her away.

To keep my blood-stained hands from tainting her soft skin.

I shouldn't have been so ignorant.

I wanted so desperately to be her relief, her breath of fresh air. I wanted to envelope her in my arms and watch the rest of the world- every one of her problems- dissipate.

I hadn't realized how completely unrealistic that was.

I wished, prayed, pleaded that her ghosts were to be left on read. That she would ignore every message, every call. That she wouldn't have to feel the brush of ghostly fingers on her skin any longer.

I was so stupid.

So stupid to believe that she could pack her bags and move on. So stupid to believe that it would be that simple.

Because if it really was that easy, couldn't she have left long ago without my help?

And now I stand here, my body completely still, every muscle tense. I don't know when I released my last breath. I don't know when my heart caught up to it's next beat. I don't know anything.

I realize now that it wasn't just ghosts haunting her every move, trailing behind her like a shadow and stunning her with paranoia.

No, it was much more than that.

Because with her wide eyes looking up at me, a crinkle between her brows, I could see every thought pass through her brain.

It wasn't just an imaginary presense that lingered, planting thoughts in her head that sprouted into fear and dispair.

No, this was real.

I could see her shock as the words reluctantly left her lips.

"I'm pregnant."

And I couldn't do much more than stare and wait for her to elaborate; for her to alleviate my every concern. Because it was clear from the frightened look that I'd seen him cause so many times before: the kid wasn't mine.

There it was again, rearing its ugly head.  The mere silhouette stood above me taunting me with its featureless face. I would be helpless  when it decided to reach down my throat and pluck out my lungs.

For now, it stood behind me, making its presence known.  

Yet it distracted me from reason, from my usual rationality. It made my ears ring until I felt I was drowning, inhaling water into my lungs as I kicked my feet to no avail.

And from her paling face, I could tell it was haunting her too. I could tell it was just waiting to pounce.

"Tyler, I..." She started but couldn't get the words out.