The box
AN: ok so I said I would update my other story and well I haven't, cause I've lost my inspiration. I have half of a crappy chapter that I may or may not upload, and I am trying to get past the writer's block on it. For now this is a short little story based off the book Why We Broke Up By: Daniel Handler.
Jades POV
This box, this is Beck. It contains everything that he and I had together. Except the feelings, those feelings you cannot just put into a box and shove them in the corner. They are there and they hurt, and dealing with them alone can be a bitch.
But that's all my fault. I am alone because well I am a Bitch. I know that, my parents know that, my brother and the people of Hollywood Arts know that. And Beck knew that to but for a little while he was able to deal with it. He was able to look past my bratty attitude and still be able to love me. But now it's over, just like I always knew that it would be sooner or later. He lasted a lot longer than I thought he would. After 3 years there was a little voice in the back of my head that whispered, maybe, maybe he will be the one that saves you, but the louder more prominent voice pushed that away knowing it could never be true.
Anyway I'm getting off topic, this box. This is why I am here standing at the end of Becks driveway. I know that he is not here tonight, he is with the rest of our friends at Vegas house playing cards (something I wasn't invited to). The box is heavy, with not just the materials inside, but all the memories, and the emotions that go with those memories are weighing me down. I don't want to put this box on his door, I don't want to leave all those memories behind.
This box that contains my entire life, Beck. I should have told him that, told him how he means the world to me, how I was afraid to lose him, how much I loved him, but I didn't, the only thing I have left is this box and its memories. I have to give this memories back though, I don't deserve them I never did, and seeing them in my room is killing me, the weight is crushing.
This box contains, several of Becks flannel shirts, that we both wore so many times the scent alone makes tears come to my eyes, all of the letters that Beck wrote me.
Me and Beck used to text a lot but Beck was a big fan of old fashioned letters, he used to put them in my locker, almost every week. They were filled with beautiful words that never failed to bring a smile to my face, (I love you, god your beautiful, hello pretty lady,) All things that were specially Beck, from cheesy pickup lines ( You should call 911 cause I just got lost in your eyes) to lame pet names (your my cutie pie). When I lost the role to Vega again it would be your so much more talented than her, or just a simple I love you don't change, he knew just what to say to make me smile again. They were held together with a piece of silky red ribbon that I got from the bear he won me at the fair.
There were pictures of us, me in his lap, us at the beach, us at Christmas and Halloween and each other's birthdays or just of us goofing off. The one picture he took of me half dressed, or of us just laying together, or us kissing. They showed who we used to be, a happy loving couple. Even though we fought, god we were so in love.
There are also ticket stubs from every single movie and play and some receipts from restaurants that Beck ever took me to. When he took me to go see the Saw movies, even though he hates scary movies, or when he made me see Easy A, or the musical Oklahoma. The bill from Maestros, the expensive Seafood restaurant where we had our first date or the little café near Venice Beach that we stopped for coffee in when we took a weekend road trip just the two of us. I kept all of this even though he never knew that.
And finally my necklace. That was the hardest thing to take off. I held it in my hand for a while, feeling the cool metal dig into my skin. My bracelet as well, Beck had it engraved for me, Beck and Jade forever. Forever doesn't last as long as I thought it did.
So this box that I'm leaving on your front porch Beck along with a letter for you, that I should have left out because you probably won't read it as you don't want to hear any more from me. All the memories of you are gone from my room, and god is it empty. I'm empty. Everything I never told you is weighing me down, like I am on the ocean floor and everything is closing in around me, and I am scared and I am alone.