#16 - ...to Break the Make Believe

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Sitting on the bus, tears streamed down Priscilla's face. It was just about half 5 when she boarded; the sky getting darker every minute. Soon, tiny snow flakes began to fall as she made her way closer and closer to her home.

Trudging up the steps to her house, Priscilla tried her best to compose herself. She did not want her mother and father to suspect her and John were broken up. Surly she could come up with an excuse to tell them in regards to her return.

Opening the door to her home, she was greeted instantly by both her parents.

Mr. Beaulieu made his way over to her first, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Priscilla! My god you are home." He sighed.

Mrs. Beaulieu stood quietly in the distance, soaking in the situation. Slowly she came over to her daughter and gave her a hug, "I'm so happy you are here."

Priscilla smiled softly, though her heart was filled with sorrow. In the two short months she had been in England, most of it was spent with John. Outsiders could not understand how a love so deep could form so fast. From an external perspective, their devotion for each other could seem intimidating; a tight bond fromed by two broken souls, years in age apart. Priscilla secretly understood her parents concern. Having their daughter under lock and key for so long, Priscilla now had a taste for freedom. Along with that came a new much older boyfriend and a separate life.

Priscilla didn't want to give up on John; but some how she felt she had to. She was ready to open her heart to him and give herself to him. If John had asked for her hand in marriage, the answer would have been yes.

Priscilla was growing tired of John's mood swings and self-destructive nature; it wore her thin. She was tired of walking on broken glass; constantly being cut by the memories of their past arguments.

Truth was, she still loved John; she probably always will.

"Priscilla, why don't you go head and take a shower. I can unpack your bag for you." Ann smiled as she petted Priscilla's hair softly.

Priscilla wasn't in the mood for talking, at the same time she was thankful her parents weren't questioning why she was home. She had a feeling it was because they were so happy she finally came back that they didn't want to question her return.

As she made her way into her old room, everything began to feel so surreal. Touching her furniture, knick knacks and other things she had on display, she felt like a stranger in her own home. Grabbing a night gown, she made her way into the bathroom.

The warmth from the shower felt good as it caressed her tired body. She took a long time, enjoying the feeling of the water, cleansing her spirit. Invisible tears wept from her eyes as the water quickly washed them away. Thoughts of John flooded her mind. Memories of stolen kisses, secret touches and late night conversations suffocated her thoughts. Words John spoke on their first date, when he confessed his feelings for her were like barbed wire around her heart.

Priscilla collapsed in the corner of the shower, her emotions rendering her body weak and useless. After a few minutes, Priscilla began to dress. She gazed in the mirror, her eyes were puffy and red; she couldn't carry on this way. Maybe it is best I tell mother..... she thought.

Walking out of the bathroom she noted the house was unusually quiet.

She softly shut the door to her bedroom and made her way toward her empty suitcase which her mother had left for her on her bed. She then decided to open it up to make sure nothing was left inside. To her surprise, she found a few pictures of John she had stolen from him. Most of them were from when he was younger, around 17 years of age. She smiled softly, remembering the feeling of his face behind the touch of her hand. The way his lips felt when pressed to hers.

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