*Now I know I have another story going on, but I thought of this storyline and had to write it!!! Please review and don't worry, I'll still be adding more chapters to Solitary Confinement(R/R!!!!) Hope you like it!!! Just to let you know, kinda dark, trust me, it will get cheerful!!!!!
Chapter 1- Guilt
I pull my weary body out of the warmth of my bed. Not wanting to leave its comfort. Tossing the covers to the side, regretfully, I stand up, exhausted. Hopefully, today will be a good day. Why shouldn't it be, I mean, it's just another day in the life of a super spy. I sigh a heavy sigh of disbelief and walk lazily to the kitchen, heeding my growling stomach. While I pour my cereal into a grey bowl, I run through today's agenda in my mind. Go to work; that should be fun, go over to Francie's restaurant and take up time, and then come home and pack my bags for tomorrow's mission. Nothing else, but something else I had to do stuck clearly in my mind. I couldn't though, I can't keep living like this, in the past. I will not be taking a trip there tonight. Not today, remember, today will be a good day. Forget about it. I pour the milk over my cereal, noticing the smoothness of the milk and the way it flows throughout the cereal as if searching for someone it can't find. Without even realizing it, tears fall from my misty eyes and mix with the milk.
Come on Sydney, you just said that today would be a good day. Just try, try. I force myself to try to make it a good day and not think about what happened last year, so long ago. Putting the jug of milk back into its place in the refrigerator, I notice a note I had left myself on the door of the fridge
:Remember, you have a date with him tonight at 8!!
It was circled in bright red pen at least ten times, making it hard not to notice it. I hadn't noticed it when I first opened the refrigerator. Suddenly, I felt a pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach. How could I forget him like that? We had planned on going out tonight since last week. I stood there, with a bowl of cereal getting soggy in one hand and a note that I wish I hadn't written in the other. I realized that I never wanted to go out with him. I barely knew him. Placing my bowl, full of unused cereal near the sink suddenly becoming aware that I am no longer hungry.
As I walk back to my room to change into a boring suit that I wear everyday to a nonexistent job at a bank that I can't stand, I become light headed and shrink down to the ground, to the size of a meaningless ant. Tears are spilling out, covering the wooden floor with a thin film of dampness. I abruptly stop, recalling that Francie was still asleep. I can't breathe, I can't tear myself away form the images embedded into my mind. I quickly erase the thoughts momentarily from my mind and begin to get back to normal life, at least normal for me. I draw myself up to stand and force myself to walk into my room to get ready. Forcing myself, to remember my date with him, a guy I have to force myself to love. I walk over to the mirror framed in gentle oak surrounded by many vases of flowers of every kind to remind me to cheer up, to not think about what I shouldn't. A few have bloomed and are beautiful, but most of them, dead and wilted, forgotten. I stare at my reflection, convincing myself that today I will go out with him and make myself have a good time, no matter what I think and feel about him. I will not think about what I can't change and why.
- - - - - - -
I glanced at the clock on my bed stand, 7:50. Eight o'clock came too soon. Sitting on my bed, I stare at the bright neon green numbers blaring the time as if yelling something at me. I twiddle the strings of my black velvet purse, wishing I would have listened to my instincts this morning. I should have gone to the cemetery this morning, but I just drove by and kept on driving. I noticed that the beautiful yellow petals, on the sunflowers I left, gleam a brilliant gold when the sun hits them in the perfect angle. I regret not going, feeling like I had been disloyal and rude.
My thoughts of regrets and guilt were interrupted by the distant sound of the doorbell ringing. It was him. I let the doorbell ring again, debating on whether I should just stay in my room full of solitude convincing him I wasn't home. Francie was at the restaurant, so she wouldn't know I skipped out on my date. But then I would feel more guilt and more pain, because that would mean more hollow meaningless secrets and lies tearing away at our friendship. I drug my unconvinced self to the door and opened it. There he stood, supposedly the man of my dreams, but he was not. He could never be that, not compared to my past love of my life.
"Hello, Sydney. How are you?"
"Fine." I faked a forced smile and shut the door behind me.
As we walked to his car, he asked me questions about my day and how I've been doing since we last met. I answered him in concise, cold answers. He opened the door for me and trying to help me in his car, and trying to be a gentleman. He looked into my eyes with such love and care, but I felt nothing. He was no Vaughn. No one will ever be like Vaughn. Without saying goodbye or I'm sorry, I run from the car tripping on my heels, tears splashing onto the ground, leaving a confused and hurt guy behind.
I didn't look back, I didn't care. My gaze concentrating on a place far from where I stand on in darkness of a cold night. Running past houses full of happy content families without any sorrow or hurt, past buildings without secrets, and past people without voids and holes in their hearts, I don't see anything but where I'm supposed to be. I falter several times, not even caring, from running to fast and not watching the world that goes on without me. It took twenty minutes, seemed only like seconds, to get to where I needed to be. I managed to climb over the steel wrought iron gate, the blockade between my true love and me. Stumbling down the path, unsure of what I'm doing. Shaking from head to toe and crying uncontrollably, I bend down to his home, still a cruel and harsh reality for me to accept even after a whole year. I crumble and scream his name over and over again. Grabbing and hugging the piece of stone proclaiming who he was. My heart fills with such ache and pain.
"Vaughn?" I stare up at the sky, waiting for him to listen to me, "Hi, I'm sorry I didn't see you this morning. The counselors told me I needed to distance myself and start living again, but I can't." The tears are forming their own sea at the bottom of my skirt. Second by second, the sea grows and forms rivers extending off of it, displaying my hurt and my terrible control of emotions.
"I, I'm sorry, that I killed you, I didn't mean too. I wish that you didn't love me so much. I wish that you didn't want to save me that you would have let me go, instead of you. I' m sorry. I'M SORRY!!!!!" I kept screaming and sobbing. "Vaughn, I love you. I love you." A sudden snap of twigs in the distance, makes me wonder if someone is watching me. I must look like a fool. I quickly transform back into controllable and normal Sydney.
Letting go of my only contact with him, I find my sanity, wipe away the tears frozen on my face, and unsteadily walk back home. Cold, alone, and troubled, I begin to cry again, missing him even more. I stare at the wilting sunflowers, which I picked back up, in my hand and analyze the yellow petals, giving me an excuse to come back tomorrow. He needs flowers, to know that someone still loves him.