Before You Leave Me Today

chapter two-juliet

dedicated to @Drunkenhabit . thank you for being the biggest fan of TTBP <3

NOT THOROUGHLY REVISED!

If there is anything I love besides food and Dylan O'Brien, it would be singing and writing. 

For fun, I write songs and poems with my old guitar. I express my emotions and feelings; things that I can't tell anyone. No one---no one knows that I write. I don't think I have a voice that is good enough to be pleasant in the ears, and I don't think I'm talented enough in writing either. But that's okay, I do it for myself. 

Something about writing calms me down. I find peace and release of emotions, like I can finally be myself without being compared with. Like I'm entitled to my own feelings, and it's okay to feel that way. I don't feel as lonely as much as I actually do. It's a little weird to describe it, but if you're also a writer like me, then you would know what I mean. 

With a fuzzy blanket draped over my shoulders and my guitar in my hands and my journal sprawled on my bed, I'm as comfortable as I can be.

Sike! 

Ding ding! 

I stopped strumming to make sure I heard that right. Did someone just ring the doorbell? Don't know, don't care. Jess or Mom can get that. I'm busy doing something and I don't think anyone would visit us on a school night. I can't have friends over when it's a school night and so is Jess. Finally something that we're equal at. 

Oh, wait, never mind, it is a Friday night. Jess being the social butterfly that she is. It may be one of her friends. 

The doorbell rang again for the third time. Annoyed that no one opened it, I rushed downstairs to see the person who already is annoying me. 

I almost gasped out loud. What is he doing here?

"What the hell are you doing at my house?" I demanded, crossing my arms across my chest. 

"I didn't waste my precious time to come all the way here just to see your face, so don't get to excited, hon." He chuckled darkly. My heart stung by how cruel his words is, but then what other reasons could it be that he's here? 

"Oh yeah?" I lamely retorted. "Sure, whatever you say." I rolled my eyes as I leaned on the doorway impatiently. "Look, McNelly, just tell me what you want and get it over with. The longer you tell me why you're here, the shorter the conversation is. Tada, then we can finally move on and pretend like this never happened." 

"Forget about me. Forget about our memories. Move on, Jules, and act like we never happened." 

I almost gasped out loud. Why is this coming back again? 

My hands gripped the doorknob so hard that it feels like I can crush it. My face feels hot, and suddenly I feel like I'm suffocating. No, no, this can't be happening. 

I feel like I'm in that day again where everything fell apart. That day where I almost died. That day when I lost everything. 

Those words never failed to make my heart break over again. I know it by heart, of course I do. Especially when it came from the person standing in front of you. 

This situation is all-too-familiar for me to forget. 

"Hey, hey, snap out of it, weirdo." I didn't even realize that I spaced out until McNelly's fingers were snapping at my face. "Are you okay? Your lips were pale, like you just saw a ghost." His brows furrowed that looked almost worried for me. 

I did see a ghost. I was in a memory; my worst nightmare. 

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. It's as if my voice got sucked out of my chest, and no sound would come out. So, I stupidly stood there with my mouth agape as I looked at this brown-haired guy with a confused expression.