Too Young to Hold on...
Layla smiled as she read the short scrawled note for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. It read that he'd be back soon. She should be upset that he'd left. She should be upset that he slipped out of her bed without so much as a whispered goodbye, all so he could be back with Eve before she woke. But she wasn't angry, because today was different. It was different because tonight when he slipped into the sheets beside her, he was staying. She could wake up in his arms. The rise and fall of his chest would be her reason for waking happy. It had been so long since she'd woken up with his slight frame curled around her own. Sure she felt bad for Eve, but not too bad. What was the old saying...something along the lines of there once was a little girl who only knew love when a boy broke her heart. Well, Cody had broken hers once upon a time. When he did, he unleashed feelings Layla didn't even know she possessed. Passion, loyalty, despair and rage all whirled up in the pit of her stomach and made her feel sick every time she thought of him. After a few months life became somewhat bearable again. She didn't see him so he filled her thoughts less and less with each passing day. She even managed a brief fling with Frankie, a long time friend who'd always had a crush on her. It was never serious though, it was far too soon to try and fill any of the gaps Cody had left.
And then he came crashing back into her life in a haze of flailing limbs and suggestive remarks. Of course he had Eve in tow...that just never really seemed important to either of them though after that first night again in each other's presence. Nothing went on physically, but emotionally it was as if they'd never left each other. The spark was there. He confessed he still harboured love for her. All her old feelings that she'd suppressed since the night he'd left rushed to the surface. She felt invigorated in a way she had never been before. It was like the missing part of her was dangerously close to being given back. Subsequent meetings were just as favoured. Eventually one night made his way into Layla's bed.
Layla wondered why she didn't feel bad for Eve. In a way, Cody betraying another girl actually made Layla feel better about herself. It meant there wasn't something fundamentally wrong with her; it meant the fault lay with Cody. But obviously he'd changed and grown up if he wanted to be back with Layla.
Layla spent the rest of the day in a blissful blur. She couldn't wait for the evening when Cody would give that achingly familiar wonky knock on her door. She'd let him in and he'd sweep her off her feet and take her to bed. She'd wearily fall asleep wrapped up tight in him. Wisps of his longish hair would graze her body as he moved unknowingly while asleep. She'd wake up in still wrapped up in him, enveloped by his smell and the heat from his body. She'd be smiling and have a blissful life with the person she knew she was supposed to spend her life with.
But the knock never came that night. Or the next. Layla waited everyday that week and the knock never came. She woke up alone, her cheeks still wet from the previous night's tears. He didn't answer calls or texts. Mutual friends could give her no help; he'd been very secretive that anything had been going on between them. If Layla brought it too their attention he could deny it and paint her as a jealous, nutty ex.
She did see him once more though. Their friend's birthday required them both to attend. He didn't speak to her. He sat with Eve. She didn't notice anything particularly romantic between them; just little things but each one stabbed at her like a freshly sharpened knife. The way he leaned in to talk to her was exactly the way he did with her. The way he lightly touched her shoulder as he walked by was like a scene ripped from her own past. Layla went home and cried harder than she ever had in her life. Her make-up slid down her gaunt face, settling in clumps especially around her eyes. The bitter taste of salt reached her lips every time another gut wrenching sob left her mouth. Her entire body ached from the way it shook. Her throat dried and it felt as if she'd never be able to speak again.
Layla couldn't face the idea of waking up alone ever again. Her only answer was permanent sleep.
The razor blade was cool as it sliced through the virgin skin on her arms. It contrasted sharply with the warm bath water that was now enveloping her body as she slid further down into her porcelain coffin. Soon enough the sweet blackness of nothingness embraced her so wholly as she had always wanted to be embraced.