Leave a Trace

Chapter Thirty Six: Alone (again)

And you know what? I hope it feels like a punch in the face.

I google a few things and then grab the letter and my pen and write.

P.S.

"And when they ask you about me and you find yourself thinking back on all of our memories, I hope you ache in regret as the truth hits you like a bullet and you find yourself replying: 'she loved me more than anyone else in the entire world and I destroyed her.'" – somebody on tumblr

"One day you're going to see her holding hands with someone who took your chance. She won't even notice you because she's too busy laughing with the stupid jokes he makes. And it will burn your heart seeing that beautiful smile on her face and realizing that you're not the reason anymore. And then it will finally hit you: it was her, it was always her." – e.v.d.a.

"It didn't hurt me. Not 'hurt'. Hurt is a four letter word. It's short, almost cute sounding. 'Aww, did that hurt?' No. It didn't hurt.

Destroyed. Obliterated. Desecrated. Annihilated. Demolished. Shattered...or demoralized maybe...but no.

It didn't hurt me. It didn't 'hurt' me at all. – Ranata Suzuki

I hope this shit makes your body ache with pain. I hope you can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Feel that pain?

That's how I feel because of you.

P.S.S.

I care about Alice so she can have all of my leotards. I'll make sure she keeps the discount.

P.S.S.S.

I still love you :(

My throat tightens and I start sobbing again, tears dripping onto the page.

I go through my phone and put every single photo I have of us in an album, and then I grab all of my things and go to the car.

A half hour later I was sitting at the photo section at Kinkos in Fed Ex and the worker was staring at me because I was sobbing while I was printing out our pictures.

I spent one hundred fucking dollars printing this shit out.

Rubbing my eyes, I walk up to the front desk with tears streaming down my cheeks. The guy there looks sorry for me.

"Do you have scissors?" I croak.

"You have to pay-" he cuts off and then grabs a pair of black scissors. "Here."

"Thank you." I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my jacket and walk to where my pictures are. I sit there, sobbing as I cut them out, and my tears keep dripping onto the paper and blotching up the ink, but I don't care.

I sob for another hour and cut them all out, and then I gather them in my hands and throw out the scraps. I give the guy back his scissors.

"I'm sorry for crying so much." I mumble.

"It's okay." He says. "Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

"I'm fine." I wipe my nose with my sleeve and walk out to my car. There's an inch of snow on the ground and I know school will probably be cancelled tomorrow.

I put the pictures in the box and head for Zane's house.

It's four in the damn morning.

I don't even care.

I put my brights on when I get to Zane's house and hold my hand on the horn enough to wake him up, and then I walk up to his porch and hold down his doorbell until the porch light comes on, and then I turn around and march back to my car.

"Rose?" He calls.

I ignore him and keep walking. I hear his hurried footsteps and then his hand clasps my arm.

I spin around fast, ripping my arm from his grip.

"Don't touch me." I snap. His eyes widen at the condition of my face.

The tears just won't stop falling.

"You shouldn't be driving." He says finally.

"Not like you give a shit."

I get in my car and back out, leaving him there to stare after me.

_____

Short but gets the job done

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~Sam