Hello there everybody! I've recieved a total of 1 review, which makes me sad, cause I know there have to be people out there reading, but they're not reviwing! Just even leave your name or a single word! I don't care, but I love getting reviews! Ok, my tantrum is over...
Cliffhanger in the last chapter, I know, cliffhanger in this one, I know. Deal with it.
Chapter 4
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I muttered to myself, rushing down the stairs and out into the real world. "Great. Just perfect…SHIT!" I tripped over the sidewalk and stumbled, falling on my knees.
"Great," I said again, getting up, my face bright red and my palms stinging.
I waved away onlookers, and stormed off, desperately flagging down a cab.
"Where to?"
"Anywhere!"
He gave me a look and I calmed down. I gave him a real address.
"Tough day?" He asked as we drove along.
"You have no idea."
He dropped my off at Central Park. The real park of New York.
I walked briskly into the trees and grass, trying to hide myself from the comforting city that had suddenly become a stranger to me.
I worked off all the tension as I walked, my pace slowed down and my breath came easier.
I couldn't believe it.
After all this time…
What would C- I mean Hope, say? What was it she had said, all those years ago…
"You can run," she said, her voice low and steady. She handed me a box. "If you think it's the best thing to do. But you won't-"
"I'm not running!" I said angrily, taking the box and stuffing it in the trunk. "I just can't do it anymore. I'm leaving."
She sighed, and looked away. "I know. I understand. I'm just sorry."
"Hope," I said, closing the trunk lid and leaning against it. "I don't want to hurt you guys. But it's over. I'm done."
"Taylor," she said, feeling the word in her mouth. "I know things have been rough, but I want you to know we won't give up on you. You can always come back."
I shook my head, keeping in the tears. "No. No, I can't."
"Are you at least going to tell him?"
"No!" I said violently, leaving her and getting in my car.
She came over to the side and spoke to me through the window.
"Will you call me sometime?"
"I don't know," I said, starting up the car. "I don't know."
I shook my head, the memories so real I could have been there again. But it was nine years ago. And I could still feel those raw emotions, how hard it was to get up and walk away. I just never thought anyone would walk after me. Walk after us.
I took a deep breath and held it, counting to five before I exhaled.
Little children ran nearby, their mothers grouped together, talking.
A couple lay on the ground, having a picnic. An artist painted them inconspicuously from a distance.
I kept walking, following the dirt path until it came out of the park a quarter mile later.
Reprimanding myself for my lavishness, I paid another cab to take me home. I just didn't feel like walking.
I mounted the stairs quickly, pulling out the keys as I went.
I walked towards the door, head down, still preoccupied with finding the key chain.
I looked up, and promptly dropped it.
