(It's been forever, I'm sorry about that. This chapter is not going to go into much detail, mainly because these are details that I wish I would not remember. My fingers are literally trembling right now. But I know that I have to write this eventually, so I may as well get it over with while I have a free day. But anyway, sorry for speeding through this chapter, but I'm just trying to get it over with. Enjoy.)
I woke on March 27, 2010, to a dark and dreary morning. Grey clouds congested the sky that once glowed with soft blue and a bright sun. It was a chily morning, and I awoke with red cheeks and burning eyes, my throat scratchy and my muscles tight with agony. I sat up and glanced over at the white wall across from me. There was a pile of books and pens that had been launched that previous night, and black scratches ran over a small area of the wall. I looked above me at the Valentine's picture I had been given the month before and yanked it from its push-pin. The picture fell to the carpeted floor and I shuffled across the it. The material was bristly under my feet as I dragged them to the door. The deafening silence was broken by the slight click made by the knob, and I immediately collapsed into a red and white-checked chair in the loft area adjacent to my bedroom. Throwing my head back, I buried my puffed eyes in my trembling hands.
No cell phone, no contact with "that boy", as my mother referred to him with bitterness oozing from her voice. (And now is the part where I start tearing up.) No more rides on the bus, no being left alone with pretty much anyone. The doors were locked whenever my parents left, and I mean locked to the point of no escape. It was like house arrest for a criminal. My father wanted to move me to a private school, preferably one for all girls, but that did not happen.
I remember the feel of salty tears running down hot cheeks as I ran up to my bedroom and took the picture in my hands. It was in a plastic cover to keep it from ripping, and I ran my shaking fingers over the plastic as little squeals, the squeals of a little girl, emitted from between my lips. My father stepped into the room and out a hand on my shoulder.
"He made this for me," I cried softly, gripping the plastic tightly in my hands.
My father's voice cracked as he spoke. "I know," he choked, squeezing my shoulder before he walked out of the room.
The pain...I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, and there are some people in this world that I really hate. That was a long weekend, but I ended up missing two days of that following week because I actually made myself sick. Vomiting, fatigue, a high fever. My chest actually ached right in the spot of my heart. I still recall the shame in my mother's face whenever she glowered at me, and the thick tension between us whenever we were in a room together. All I wanted was another chance, but I knew it wasn't going to happen.
My grades slipped, and that just made my mother even angrier. I couldn't care less about school or what anyone thought about me. People knew, I could see it in their eyes. He knew a lot of people at the time. I can remember a girl in my grade saying how I should have known that he was "a dick". It was choir class, and I just got out of my seat and moved to the other side of the room so I could put my head down behind Katie's desk.
There was a moment where I contemplated if anyone would miss me if something were to happen to me. Not suicide or anything that drastic, just if I were to get seriously messed up if anyone would really be upset about it. I curse myself now for thinking about that, but my mindset was not the most stable at that time.
I eventually learned to deal with the ordeal, even though it still pained my to even think about him for more than a minute.
"I think I'm falling in love with you."
Those words banged up and down the sides of my brain like a pinball, taunting me until I was about to walk myself up to the hospital and demand psychiatric attention. I remembered the lust in his voice, his breath against my ear. The way he smiled when he spoke, and the way he touched my skin as he confessed the words.
That following June, after the longest school year in history ended, I took summer P.E. with Katie so we would not have to deal with it during the school year. It was probably about seven or so in the morning as we drove near the train tracks that ran through downtown, past old shops and restaurants from the town's early days. There he was walking along the train tracks, hands in his pockets and eyes averted to the concrete below his feet. Katie and I were in the backseat when I turned around quickly after realizing what I had just seen. My mother screamed at me, asking why he was there. I threw my hands up at her and said that there were some things that I couldn't control. Slamming the door once we arrived at the school, I stormed into the building ahead of Katie, biting my lower lip and blinking rapidly.
I met my friend Kyle that summer. He's sickly skinny and a little taller than me, with short brown hair and big eyes. He always flirted with Katie and I, and I can recall some of my friends at that time saying that I should have gone out with him. Immediately, I was shaking my head and trying to delete the memories of my previous relationship. I wanted nothing to do with the male species. I hated just talking to Kyle (He's actually gay now) and his friends from the rival high school.
The months passed more like years to me, one slow, monotonous day at a time. I thought about the haunting memories of March less and less, and I found myself having a good time with my friends again. I still wasn't the same person, and anytime I found someone that looked like my ex, it was enough to make me crawl into a ball and hide from the rest of the world. I still went to bed some nights, curling up into a tight fetal position and seeing Devin's face behind my eyelids. I would long for the feeling of his arms around my waist as I slept, telling me that he was right there and everything would be alright.
I had a dream that my parents had forgiven my relationship and had allowed us to be together again. That dream was shattered when I awoke and had to contemplate for twenty minutes if that had really happened. A load of harsh disappointment hit me like a brick when I had to get up and realize that my mind was just playing a cruel joke on me.
I started school on August 16, 2010, and I remember waking up with a long groan and a massive headache. I smacked my alarm clock with a trembling hand, and as I planted my feet on the ground, the wobbling sensation in my knees sent shockwaves through my system. I was in the process of dressing into my school clothes when I realized that it was about to be my most nerve-wracking day of school yet.
I was a freshman, Devin was a junior. We were about to walk intot the same school together. All the memories were about to flood right back into my mind.
(Alright, so that's the update. Sorry for the long wait, I just was putting it off. I'm sorry that it's sort of summarizing the five month period of time after the last chapter. So yeah, here it is. Read, comment, vote, whatever you wish. I'll try to get more out soon.)
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I'm Right HereNon-Fiction
If you asked me four years ago about love I would have said that I'd never find someone, it would be just myself and my books. If you asked me about it today, I would reply by saying that love is something that should be cherished, and although it i...