Galaxies Ahead

Chapter 3

           

I hadn't realised that I had earned tears streaming down my face whilst I stuffed my suitcase. The doors were locked yet the balcony of our room was spread open as the thin curtains blew between the waves of the wind. My legs heavily carried me through room to room, my arms dangling as I ran through each room and individually picked up every piece of belonging that I brought with me.

I wasn't a loud crier, but I was definitely an ugly one. And so silently I wept throughout the apartment, tears framing my cheeks as they carried out my makeup from my eyes slowly down my face and neck. My hair blew from the wind and stuck to my mouth but I was too busy to brush it away.

I felt as though I had been faster than the wind or merely catching up to it. My favourite scent of candle was lit before we left the room, yet even though the smell of rose champagne and flower blossoms filled the room entirely despite the harsh blowing air, I still managed to feel disgustingly sick. For reasons that I cannot fathom, my stomach was turning upside down and with my entire world spinning, I ran into the bathroom to empty it out.

I heard the door crack open and suddenly I had another urge to empty what was left of my insides yet nothing deemed to come out.

'Miss?' I heard a voice quietly mumble. I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

'I'm fine, I'm in the bathroom.' I wiped my mouth and quickly washed my hands and face before stepping out.

'Are you alright, Miss?' spoke the gentle Italian accent, whom now owned a face and a body covered in a hotel's uniform. I nodded my head almost immediately and sniffed my nose before realising I still had makeup running down my cheeks, and so my hands shifted to my eyes and began to smear it away. I don't believe I succeeded very much in getting rid of it, but at least I knew my cheeks weren't damp anymore.

'I'm totally fine, don't worry please.' I mumbled, rubbing my hands on my jeans to get rid of what tears took away from my eyes. I happened to know the man's name; Alberto, in short, he was usually the one asserted to the Wilshire's when they visited Italy. I had only met him once before for one short trip planned by Patrick's parents two years ago, but I felt like he liked me for the simple reason that I had treated him better and with more kindness than Patrick's family.

'I, um... I just need to p- pack my things and uh-'my hallow words tripped over each other as I struggled to speak. I pulled at the roots of my hair as my brain fidgeted with phrases I could use.

'Miss, do you need help or you need me to leave?' he politely asked, closing the door to make sure no one heard. One thing was certain; I would definitely miss Alberto and his kindness. He knew what little things I wanted without asking and did them.

'Um, please can you just call down a taxi by the entrance, I'll be- I should be ready in 10 minutes?' I asked, my hands trembling. Alberto closed the door before mumbling a short, 'sorted, Miss' and left my worries to fulfill the rest of the room, without another clear presence other than myself.

I felt like collapsing. My lungs felt as though the tears from my face had somehow gotten into my chest and started to drown my insides as well as drain them at the same time. If that was possible, I wasn't sure yet I knew, as my eyes wandered the open balcony doors which presented huge waves that clashed and crashed into each other, which tore apart and broke, that suddenly I was able to relate my heart to that very scene.

That can easily be described as a fresh wound of a heartbreak, the simple thought of the heartbreaker brought spite, petty or sadness. Possibly regret. What I felt, however, was confusion. Piles upon piles of questions headed towards the open doors, blowing out into the chilly air of that Friday night, never to be heard or answered again. The sea simply swarmed them in, and drowned them.

I clicked once again, and instead of filling brain with agony, I resumed packing my suitcase and two other bags. I had only little bits left, which I quickly collected and checked a few more times around, blew out the candle and left.

And I hadn't known it then, but as I look back, I see a very frequent tendency of leaving; and now I know that this would later come back to bite me back.