Atheist-One of my more "heart-wrenching" stories.
A Tale of the Conflicts Between Love and Religion.
By: Hannah K. Dean.
Author's Note:
This idea has been in my head for a while now, and I'm glad to finally get in on paper. I hope none of the content in chapters to come offends anybody. Keep in mind; it's a fanfiction, a story. If you don't like It, you don't have to read it. I'm only posting the Prologue for now. I want to see how it does before I post more. Sorry it's sorry short, the chapters aren't!
Enjoy.
PROLOGUE—GETTING UP.
Getting up in the morning is always the hardest part for her, for when she wakes up; she looks over her shoulder and expects him to be there like he was for the longest time. And when he's not there, she thinks, He must be downstairs. He'll be up here soon with the boys and breakfast like he was on my birthday. Then she realizes that's in an apartment, there is no downstairs that belongs to her. Then she sits up in bed and remembers what really happened on her birthday.
One year ago.
"One year." She whispers. "It fells like more."
Everyday is routing for her. Get up, remember her last birthday, take a cold shower, get dressed, heat a can of Georgia Coffee and head to work. She worked in a convenience store and had worked in one since she left home seven years ago.
She was born in Russia. She was kicked out of the house at age sixteen. She lived in America a total of five years, three of them completely oblivious as to what—or rather who—awaited her. She spent her last two years in America with him. She quit her job at the convenience store and babysat his kids. Time went on and they finally went on a date. A few months later, she moved out of her apartment and in with him.
Her birthday started out like any other day. She woke up, only this time; he wasn't lying next to her. She waited and then he and his two sons (products of his marriage; he was a widower) came up with breakfast. The day progressed and she went out with some of the friends she had made.
It was late when she returned. He was waiting for her with dinner. It completely overwhelmed her. It hit her that he thought she was something she wasn't.
So she told him. Everything.
Why she was kicked out of her house in Russia, why she fell asleep at church, and—mainly—why she couldn't be with him.
She left in the morning. Leaving nothing but a note, some stray strands of hair on the bed they shared, and memories.
The note detailed what she planned to do. She left the address of an apartment she planned to buy in Japan (she had been looking at it since before she met him). It gave her cell phone number. It gave the airline she was using and the time of her flight. Hell, it gave her whole heart.
But it gave no apology.
She was not sorry. She was what she was and nothing—not even him—would change that.
Joanne Avalon Caithlene was an Atheist.