Volleybelles One-shots

Lost

We lost her when the unthinkable happened. She became nothing but a ghost of her self, an empty shell. We lost her when she lost Miguel.

It was an accident. They were coming home from their 5th Anniversary celebration when a truck, whose driver fell asleep, came crashing at them in an intersection. Miguel took the direct hit and lost his life.

Jia took major damages and had to undergo several surgeries. The doctors almost lost her several times but somehow Jia always survived.

We, the whole team, were there for her as she recovered but she never did. Not really. Sometimes I wondered if this other chance in life was a blessing or a curse because Jia never stopped being in pain.

At first, Jia cried and cried and cried for months. We never left her. Then, Jia just stopped. She stopped crying. She would just stare at anything and anyone. We were still there and we tried to get her back.

Then, the inevitable happened. She got angry. But she masked her anger and pain with fake glee and with passive-aggressive behavior.

One by one, she lost people dear to her. But I stayed. Because Jia, Jia is important to me. I can't leave her like that.

No matter how hurtful she could be at times, I stayed. I tried not to let whatever she did or said bother me. But I was still nowhere near getting her to open up to me.

Then came the alcohol. Came the drugs. Came the lust and disinterest for herself. She drank, she got high, and she slept around night after night.

I tried to stop her but I always ended up fighting her or getting into a fight with whoever she was with at the time. I got bruises and scars. Jia never cared.

She was broken. She was dead inside.

But I refused to give up on her.

I refuse.

It's just difficult to keep holding on specially at times like this: I'm inside my car, with a cut on my lip, waiting in front of a building where I know a bastard brought Jia to. I'm waiting for Jia to come out.

Minutes later and she was stumbling out of the building with a definite hungover. This is the part I hate most. Seeing her and knowing she just had sex with a nobody, it just makes my blood boil. But I kept it in check. I can't give up now.

Jia spotted my car and went to the passenger seat as if nothing happened. And maybe to her,  nothing did. This has been our routine. I always wait for her, goddamnit.

"Hey," she said as she plopped down on the seat.

I kept my mouth shut, clenching my jaws.

She looked at me.

"Sorry about that, by the way," she motioned the cut on my lips.

I almost fucking laughed in anger and agony. Goddamnit, Jia!

"You shouldn't have bothered stopping me anyway. Hindi ka pa ba nagsasawa?"

Something inside me just snapped.

I turned to her and gritted out every word I said.

"You know what? You're right. Nagsasawa na ako sa ganito, Jia. This would be the fucking last time you would do this to me."

The pain and sadness that crossed her eyes could have been a figment of my imagination but it still tugged at my heart. A rare moment like that lets me know I still mattered to her.

But she hid it behind a smirk.

"Finally. Thank you!"

I controlled myself to not snap at her again. Instead, I faced the road properly, buckled my seatbelt, and stepped on the gas.