Max lifted the glass of water to her lips, the anti-depressant pill near the back of her throat. She swallowed the pill, only gagging slightly as it slithered down her esophagus.
I'm getting better at this, she thought, padding over to the couch and sitting.
She picked up the remote, pressing the 'on' button. A program she cared little about slowly came up, and her eyes glazed over.
She allowed her mind to wander, stumbling into unwanted territory.
The incident.
Max shuddered involuntarily, her cold arms wrapping around her small frame. Standing up, she turned the heat up higher. Max suddenly noticed a picture on the wall, a picture in a mahogany frame that broke her heart into two.
He was in the picture, their smiling faces reaching up to touch a heart-broken one. His brown hair gleamed in the sunlight, his warm arm thrown around her shoulders.
Max grabbed the picture frame abruptly, and threw it to the ground. The glass cracked, leaving a large crack in the middle, comically spreading the two apart. She roughly took the picture out of the frame and ripped it in half.
She grasped her chest, pretending that she could massage and heal her heart to become better again. But she couldn't. It'd be too easy for her, and everyone wanted to make things harder. There was no easy way out for her, no light waiting at the end of the tunnel, no prince to pick her up and carry her off into the horizon on a white steed. Max quietly picked up the mess she made, sniffling and rubbing at her nose with her knuckles like a little girl.
Max choked back a cry, and sat back on the couch.
She wanted to sob, cry, cough, choke, sleep. Her only chance at a prince to save her was gone, gone like the wind. It was his choice... She thought dismally, holding herself together with her arms.
Her chest felt heavy, the hole in her heart slowly growing larger. She had just been getting better. But then he had ran off with her, the two names she wanted to forget.
They hadn't been married, no; she had wanted it, however, and her only chance at happiness has been ripped out of her hands, and has flown into the air.
She put on a bright blue sweatshirt over her light purple tank top, her feet hidden by the long maroon sweatpants she was wearing.
Max crossed her arms, and stuffed her skinny feet into a pair of boots, wiggling her toes in the sheepskin. She stuffed the pant-legs into the calf reaching boot. Max loved her Uggs. She grabbed her cold keys off their hook, and her wallet. Max walked out of the door, and locked the deadbolt.
Sighing, she walked outside into the cold March air and kept her eyes to the ground. She was too busy trying not to step on the cracks to stop her mother's back from breaking to notice the people who she kept on bumping into, who gave her looks of pure death.
Max looked up at the glaring sun, and she once again failed to notice the man she walked right into. She stumbled back a step, and immediately stooped to the ground to help the man pick up the numerous papers he dropped. Max stole a glance at one -- they were flyers for a band. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. They stood up at the same time.
Now that they were standing, Max got a better look at him. He was taller than she was, just smaller than a head's length. He had an iPod stuffed into his breast pocket, and she could faintly hear the catchy drum beat. He quickly turned it off and took the headphones out of his ears. He had dark hair, a reasonably length, not too short, not too long. He had deep brown eyes.
Their eyes locked. Max quietly held out her hand. "I'm Max."
He held his hand out too and they shook. Goosebumps raced across both their bodies. Max could feel sweat gather on his palm.
"I'm Nick."
After that, the conversation simply flowed.
Short, AGAIN. Ah well, c'est la vie.
Disclaimer: These guys belong to James Patterson (unfortunately).
Anyone like Owl City? The shirts for Owl City Merch are GORGEUS! I want one soooo bad!
808 words.... -smiley face-