The Hurt that Consumes
Sophomore Me
Disclaimer- I don't own anything.
Summary- Just a little vignette about Jake comforting Bella after Edward leaves.
It was dark; it was always dark. The sun could no longer shine, for me at least. The sun had not shined for a week, and if it had, I did not notice. I kept going back to that night. The memories were like flashes, pieces of the past that I could never forget.
I could hear the movement downstairs: dishes being set down on the table, heels clicking on the linoleum floors, and the echoed whispers. I wasn't ready. Curling up into a ball, I buried my face between my knees. If I couldn't escape, I would hide.
I was prepared for the sadness. The stares and the whispers were no surprise. What I didn't expect, hit me the hardest. You can't grow into loneliness; it's thrust upon you in the worst of times. The love of my life had left me, and now I was alone.
The squeaky hinges of my bedroom door alerted me to a visitor. Sitting up quickly, I brushed my blacken tears away with my hand leaving smeared mascara in its wake. My visitor was my best friend, Jake. He had been exceedingly understanding since the break up. He gave me the space I needed, but I think that was about to end.
"Bella," he whispered, probably thinking I was asleep. I had kept all the lights off.
"Hi, Jake."
"Bella, did you want to come downstairs?"
I shook my head.
"I know it may not seem like this will all get better, but it will. I promise," he said it with such conviction that I almost believed him, almost.
We sat in silence. My pulse thundered in my ears and tears streaked down my face. I felt Jake sit next to me, searching for my hand. I let him grab it. My hand hung lifelessly in his, and he squeezed it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He was hesitant in asking.
I thought about his question. Did I want to talk about it? Was I ready to talk about my shattered heart?
"I don't want to talk about it," I croaked out. My voice gave away the silent tears I had been shedding. "It hurts to talk." I inhaled deeply, the pain ripped through my chest. "It hurts to breathe."
Allowing myself to be pulled into my best friend's embrace, I sobbed. He rocked me back and forth as I clutched his hoodie in my hands. I was willing myself to let go.
So what do you think? Horribly overdone, I know….but reviews are always nice.
