Note: I wrote this because, well because I did. Because I felt like it. Because it gave me this kind of sad, but content feeling. Because I used to have a best friend connected to the same weird feeling.
Rated: PG 13 ish?
Summary: The daughter shifted her bag from one hand to the other. "He asked me to go away with him." ...implied lit
Title: 'cause you didn't
She wasn't as careful as she could have been. She knew as much.
The light was turned on, she didn't avoid the creaking floorboards and accidently banged the door to her wardrobe shut. It wasn't about wanting to get caught, she simply didn't care.
It was time to leave. She was ready, more than that, she was eager to go. It was what she wanted, the right thing to do.
The door opened silently when she had her back towards it, so she was a bit startled when she finally turned, duffel bag in hand, and saw a person wearing a bathrobe, leaning against the doorframe.
At night her mother always looked just a tiny bit older. There were small, barely visible, lines around her eyes, her lips were more a light pink than red and her skin was a shade paler than during the day. Her brown hair, cascading down her shoulders, was still shiny, her blue eyes sparkling and her movements quick.
She wasn't old, just not young anymore.
"You are leaving."
The good thing about people making statements instead of asking questions is, that you don't have to argue with them. The daughter shifted her bag from one hand to the other.
"He asked me to go away with him."
"So? That's it? He asked and now you are leaving? Just like that?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders, a blank expression on her face. To her they seemed to be rhetorical questions.
Her mum walked a few steps and then sat down on the bed.
"If you go with him, will he hurt you? I don't mean physically, but...you know."
"Most likely. I mean, he has in the past."
She fiddled with the zipper of her bag, shrugging her shoulders once again. Looking around she tried to think of something she had forgotten. Nothing came to her mind.
"And you don't care about that? You want to go anyway?"
"I'll go with him for as long as he'll let me. I feel alive mum, when I'm with him, I feel alive. Even when he shatters me to pieces... especially then. He can crush me forever and always. I don't care. Because it's him and because I am me. And because the whole concept of 'us' is so fucking amazing."
They didn't need to say it aloud. She would let her kid go. She didn't stand a chance against her determination. Against her hunger. Against her need for everything that was out there, waiting for her.
But the uneasy feeling in her chest made her realize that she feared for her. And if the knot in her stomach meant something else, then she didn't want to acknowledge it.
"How come we are so different? I was asked to run away too, when I was your age... probably a year older. I told him to leave. I told him that he had hurt me enough."
A car could be heard driving down the street. Then it stopped and the car door opened and shut again. A small orange light could be seen through the darkness. He had lit a cigarette.
"I'll go now."
Her mother got up and moved towards her as if to hug her before she went. She stopped before she reached her daughter.
"Take care. And call whenever you need something."
It was a good attempt, but they both knew that this would never happen.
The girl settled the strip of her duffel bag on her shoulder and grabbed it firmly. Before she closed the door behind her, she turned around once again.
"Mum, you probably should have gone with him."
Through the window Rory could see her daughter approaching the car. The young man leaning against it let his cigarette drop to the ground before he wrapped his arms around the girl for a split second.
"I guess you are right, daughter of mine. It would have been better if I'd gone."
Rory closed the curtains. She knew it, she knew everything. The knot in her stomach and the pain in her chest meant jealousy. Nothing more, nothing less.
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