This is more of the prologue than anything. Tell me what you think! This is my first story, so I'm sorry if it sucks.
PRESENT:
"Ross, I'm sorry, okay? Please…" Maia sobbed on the other line.
Ross felt numb. He was surprised he even had a grip on his phone. "Who was it?" he asked dryly. "Garrett?"
Her silence answered his question. "I knew it," he picked at his comforter, biting his lip to keep from crying.
"Baby, please. I love you, you know that," Maia pleaded.
Ross shook his head in disbelief. "I don't," he replied honestly.
"Ross…"
He cut her off. "I can't do this right now."
Despite her begging him to stay, he hit end. Then, glaring angrily at his phone, he chucked it across the room, getting a small amount of satisfaction from the crunching sound it made when it made contact with the wall.
He needed more.
His glance traveled to his guitar, which had been virtually untouched in almost a year. He had the urge to grab it, to smash it against the wall, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet, anyway.
Ross hadn't lost it like this in a while. He hadn't needed to break anything, to hit anyone, or even to hurt himself in over a year. He had been doing well.
But all it took was Maia's betrayal, her lies, her disloyalty, to throw him back off the edge. He scrambled off the bed, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
As usual, he hated what he saw. He looked too much like him. Everybody said so, and he was getting sick of hearing it.
"Leave me alone!" he screamed, pounding his fist against the mirror, cracking it and causing shards to come off, some sticking to his hand.
Breathing heavily, he stared at the blood streaking down his fist, flowing faster now, since he clenched the shards in his hand.
More, he thought. I need more.
He pulled one from his hand, and positioned it right above his opposite wrist. His eyes followed the scars that ran down his arm, and he planned to reopen those wounds.
Until the door opened.
"Ross?"
He didn't need to look up. Immediately, Rydel had grabbed both of his hands, and taken the glass away from him.
"Ross, what are you doing? I thought… I thought this was over," Rydel whimpered, starting to cry.
He couldn't handle it. "Get out, Rydel."
She glared at him in disbelief.
"I'm serious!" he told her, now shouting. "Get. OUT."
His sister's expression hardened. "You need to stop this. We all lost him, you know. It's hard on all of us. But do you really think this is going to help?" She gestured to the broken mirror and his bloody hand.
He refused to look at her. He pressed his palm into the mirror, and he actually felt some pain shoot through his arm.
But her next words stung deeper than anything. "If he saw you, he'd be ashamed. You weren't supposed to turn out like him."
Ross whirled around to glare at her, but she had left. He considered chasing after her, screaming at her, hurting her, but he collapsed on the floor instead, finally breaking down into sobs.
She was right. He did need help.
But nobody here could help him. There was only one person who could do that.
And he was gone forever.
