The Girl With A Broken Heart

Chapter 8

"You drawing?" I ask stunned, reaching into my back pocket I stuff a small tablet box into a hiding place.

Shifting on my feet in the middle of the room, I don't know why I'm here this was a terrible idea.

After Branson told me that Mariel was still getting sick after a few days on the water, I got a little worried, okay maybe more than a little. So I rushed after my shower to bring her some stronger meds and see what was wrong. But what I found was not a girl sick with motion sickness but Mariel with a very confused look, pens and pencils littering the bed and a sketch book with her latest creation coming along while she chews on the back of a pencil.

"Uhh yes." Mariel states bringing me back, her answer makes it sound more like a question than an actual answer.

Her quizzing stare makes me feel uncomfortable and it is getting more awkward as I just stand here in the middle of the room looking like a fool, my brain is telling me to flee, flee now.

"Right I'll leave you then." I squeak walking towards my escape, wishing I could telepathilay kick Branson's lying ass right now.

"You have changed so much." Whispers Mariel.

My feet stop mid walk as I shut my eyes pretending she didn't just cut me with her words. When I go to turn the handle of the closed door her voice stops me yet again.

"I also know why you stayed away from us all these years too."

I try to control my increasing angry through deep breaths and thinking of only my heart beat,  I stand there with my head against the door and my hand on the cold handle. It takes me longer than expected but once I feel calm enough and with another deep breath I turn back around to look at her. The some grey eyes as her brother stare back at me.

"What?" I ask

Moving from her seating position on the bed she takes unsteady steps towards me, like she is approaching a wild animal.

"Branson told me why you thought it would be better to stay away from me, from us." she tells me.

Oh Damn him to hell and back, I'm not gonna kick his ass, I'm going to slaughter him and feed his medelling pieces to the damn sharks.  I think angrily to myself, my blood starting to boil once more.

"I don't know what you talking about. You don't know me." I snap crossing my arms over my chest.

The unfortunate truth is that she really doesn't know who I am anymore. The type of person I have had to become in order to protect those around me and survive this hellish nightmare.

"But I do. I still know who you are...Ariella." her eyes getting misty.

My stocked and dulled reaction gives Mariel the chance to wrap her thin arms around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight hug. Hearing that name again after so long brings back unwanted memories and pain that I have pressed down into a box and placed at the farthest corners of my mind.

My body automaticly goes into defence mood.  Trying to free myself from her iron grip is difficult because I don't want to hurt her but I stop instantly after I hear a soft cry coming from Mariel but what makes my heart sink is when I feel my shirt getting wet.

"Why are you crying?" I ask softly my angry replaced with anxiety now.

"Because" hiccup "Because I still know you. I still know that y...you are good even if you think you not. You have always been good." she says through hiccups and tears.

Shaking my head no against her.  How can she say that?  How can anyone still see good in me when I can't see it when I look in the mirror? 

Pushing her at arm's length I look at her red botching face. Tears streaming down her face. But the one main thing I notice is her shirt has wet marks by her shoulder. Confused I touch my face with my finger tips and feel liquid rolling down my checks

That's when I realized those marks are because of tears. My Tears, tears I haven't shed in years.