Red-Heads On The Battle Front

34. In Between This

"Gwen? Gwen! Hello?" May's voice snapped me out of my trance.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm here" I said, sighing into the phone.

I hadn't spoken to anyone for the past week or so. Time had lost all meaning, and I couldn't quite tell the difference between one day and the next. Lying in bed, alone with my monster thoughts were all I had left. I couldn't manage the energy to get up, to eat, to shower, to do something, anything. There was only me, my mind and the ceiling I trained my eyes upon.

Very emo, but unfortunately, that just makes the truth more embarrassing.

After I'd run out of the wedding, I'd been thoroughly scolded for ruining my dress and ruining the big day. It was only after I burst into tears did my mother ask me what was wrong, noting for the first time in her whole tirade, that something was. Between hiccupping sobs, I managed to stutter out a couple of sentences summarizing the whole...fight. I'd been promptly sent to bed. The family was on strict orders not to disturb my peace in any way and they left me to it. The days after were one of the most miserable ones in my whole life. Worse than when he left.

As for him, we had no contact at all. His blinds remained firmly shut from what I could see the few times I peeked through my own closed ones. Unlike me, however, he went outside. His life went on without me. Just like it had for all these years. Sometimes, he'd look up at my window, but never made a move to come inside. I didn't expect him to. I rehearsed conversations over and over in my head, but could never go through with them. What would I say? That I was sorry for running out on him like that? That I'd liked him for so long, I'd forgotten that it had turned into bitter anger? How would I even explain that?

There was one person, however, who did seek me out: May.

When I'd ignored the calls she'd told me she'd made and the emails she'd sent (my laptop had become surprisingly uninteresting), she went the whole way and called my landline. My mother had knocked on my door and softly told me that she was on the line. This had succeeded in reviving me and I jolted out of my self-induced stupor, stumbling downstairs to get to the phone.

"Hey. You'll get through this" she said now, softly, reassuringly. I smiled and then realized she couldn't see me.
"Yeah, I know. I always do."
"You don't have to be strong all the time, Gwen" she sounded like she was frowning
"What? Let it flow, let it flooow" I sang jokingly, although it rang hollow. I sighed.
"I've never been through" I grimaced "Heartbreak before. For lack of better word" she chuckled sadly at this and said "I know. I know. That's why it's going to be hard. But take care of yourself okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I will."
"I'm serious, Gwen. Your mother tells me you haven't stepped out of the house"
"I don't anyway" I said, scowling at my mother's back. From the way she held herself, I knew she was listening to our conversation, trying to determine if I was okay or not

"How's life been treating you?" I said, changing the topic. Talking about...whatever this was, was getting real tiring, real quick.
"Okay I guess. I may start this story on Wattpad. Not sure." She said, sounding contemplative.
"You should. You write well. And I'd read it for sure" I said, cheered by the thought of reading more of her writing. She really was such a brilliant author. "When you make it big, don't forget me"
"Never" she said earnestly.

I smiled.

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The conversation with May succeeded in cheering me up a little. I came down for dinner instead of eating it in my room like a hermit and talked to my family, even laughed a little.

They treated me like I was going to explode if they said anything and practically tip toed around me. Since half the conversations we usually had were my Mum and Celia teasing me about Dev, while Dad pretended to shake his head and digress, this proved to be a challenge. But they did well, and for that I was grateful. I even helped out with the dishes, although, I think this convinced them that I wasn't fine more than anything. I never did the dishes unless specifically told to.

I began to trudge upstairs when,
"Gwen?" Mum asked in a tentative voice. I turned to her and smiled tiredly
"Yes, Mum?"
"Your grounding is over, if you come into the kitchen, I can give you all your books back" she said, smiling at me. My heart leapt and I squealed, vaulting off the steps and into her arms.
"Yes!"
She grinned, relieved that something had caught my attention and followed me into the kitchen, pulling out various books from cupboards. I gaped.
"You mean they were here the whole while?!" I said incredulously. She grinned and added one last book to the towering pile.
"Do you need help with this?" she asked, gesturing to it. I nodded and we trooped upstairs. When my room opened, she visibly scowled at the state of it but, thankfully, didn't say anything, only pausing to straighten my sheets and to untangle Ghibli from one of my many shirts on the ground. Ghibli mewed at us and I stopped to cuddle her. I got scratched. Even my cat's angry at me. Brilliant

I stuck my tongue out at the little monster, who was now licking her paw like she hadn't done anything, and placed my half of the books on the dresser, while Mum placed hers on my desk. She scowled again at the state of my room and left, telling me that if I ever needed anything, all I had to do was holler. I nodded at this and sighed contentedly, feeling a bit of my former happiness creep back into my life with the end of my estrangement from books.

I exhaled happily and snuggled into my messy bed, pulling out the book I hadn't finished reading yet, delving back into a world where nightmares turned into dreams, where happy ending were real and where loving didn't hurt as much.

As the story came to a close, I dried my tears on the edge of my sleeve and let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, feeling better than I had in days. That's what a good book makes you feel like – it doesn't wring you out emotionally, like real life does. Maybe I should go back to living in a book, than in this reality.

As these thoughts consumed me, I stretched, getting ready for the night. My outstretched arms knocked over the already teetering pile of books on my nightstand, sending them sprawling on the ground. Ghibli gave me an aggravated look and a mew that clearly told me to stop making such a ruckus. Hmph. Look who's talking.

I scowled, getting off my bed to pick up the books. One had managed to sneakily slide itself under my bed and I reached underneath, frowning as my fingers brushed shadowed debris that had accumulated over the years under their. I shuddered, thinking of the monsters I used to be scared of.

The only monsters I needed to fear now, however, were the ones that plagued my heart, and the insistent voice that cried 'Talk to him!' persistently. And these monsters whimpered in my mind again as I drew out the book I'd taken from him all those weeks ago, dusting its jacket off from the dust it had gotten so quickly covered in from under-the-bed-land. My heart aching, I placed it on my desk, staring at it like it was a time bomb that wouldn't hesitate to explode.

At the end of a long few minutes that felt like hours days, years, I finally resolved to give it to him tomorrow. The decision was by no means easy but I'd face him. I would. My heart did an odd little wiggle at the thought, before sleep enfolded me in her numbing arms.

My last thought was how I'd deal with giving Ghibli away, and then the dreams of brown-eyed boys with laughing smiles and voices that cried my name in such beautiful ways, claimed me.

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A/N: Not much to say. I'm filling up these chapters real quick .-. My poor, poor Ship Hippo. 

Week's been terrible. Hope yours has been better.

xxx
Sage