I love you

Ch 3

I woke up in my old room but it took me a few seconds to adjust my eyes. My dad walks in with a tray of food and smiles, “How are you feeling?”he asks with sadness in his eyes. “Good,” I replied, trying to hide the pain rushing through my body with a smile. “What happened?” I ask him. “You were in an accident” he says hesitantly. “It’s been two weeks since the accident, you’ve been in and out of sleep,” he says on the verge of tears. I’m shocked. “Someone’s here to see you,” he says with a smile. He says something else but my mind goes blank when I see him at the door. He doesn’t stare at me for a while, but when he does I can see the guilt in his eyes and a single tear falls from my eye, that pain in my chest grows again and I clench my fist. My dad leaves and closes the door behind him. I lay back down and turned the other way, holding on to the pillow tightly, trying my hardest not to cry. I heard him getting closer and sitting on the chair beside the bed and I closed my eyes shut. He tries to rub my back because he knows that's what makes me feel better, but I move from his touch. He tries to talk to me but I don’t say anything. I’m crying at this point. I quietly asked him to leave. He tries to explain but I turn around, pain rushes through me as I do, and I yell at him “Get out!”. He stays for a minute or two, maybe hoping I’d ask him to stay, but then leaves when he realizes there's no point in waiting. My parents came to the room to check on me again. They looked confused as to why he was storming away and I screamed at him to get out, but I was too tired to explain to them. I couldn’t, even if I tried. Mom grabs the empty cup on the counter and they leave, closing the door behind them. I sat there and tears rushed down my face. That pain in my chest won’t go away and after a while I fall asleep. For the next few months, I stayed in that bed doing nothing except cry and sleep. They’d come into my room to give me food or comfort me but I couldn’t talk. I just wanted to sleep my days away, I just couldn’t do it right now and I didn’t think I'd ever do it again. But after those three months, I started to try and get up. It went from getting up to get food on my own to getting up to walk around the house. They were surprised but didn't say anything. They were happy I was trying to get better. They knew I wasn't able to move a lot because of the accident, if only they knew why I really didn’t want to do anything. I continued to try for two more months. One time I was extra sad and I got up and made my way to the couch. I sat there for the rest of the day just staring into space, thinking. Outside it looks like I'm closely observing the walls, but inside I was thinking of all the things we did together, all that we'd built together, all the jokes, all the time spent together, all the cute dates, the sweet compliments, the I love yous. Every question hits my heart, arrows shot deep into my heart, leaving tears and holes in my heart. Did it, did I, not mean anything to him? The questions hit one by one like bullets. I’m so stuck in my thoughts I don’t realize I’m crying and my mom, concerned, comes up to me, with my hands in hers. She asks what's wrong. She tries to look into my eyes but I keep my head down staring at the floor as my eyes fill with tears. She hugs me tightly, I sit there and I tell her what happened that night, that terrible night. I told her what he did to me. She’s quiet but soothes me. I lay in her arms, tear after tear fell from my eyes as she combs through my hair with her fingers. The doorbell rings and she slowly gets up, putting a pillow under my head. She opens the door with her usual welcoming greeting but stops right in the middle of it as she sees who it is. It’s him again. You can see the anger boiling up in her eyes. She digs her nails into the door but keeps her composure. It quickly escalated from a “why are you here” to a “get the hell out of here” at the door. My father, concerned, ran to the door. He sees her and holds her back, trying to calm her down. She kicked and shoved him, trying to break free while cursing his name. He ran away and my mom explained to dad what happened, shouting through tears. I watched the whole thing but I didn't bother to explain and went back to my room. I sit in silence looking at the door.I snap out and walk around my old room going through all my old stuff. Everything was the same, they didn’t move anything. I remember my old clothes and look through my closet. I see this box on the top shelf. I take it down, dust the cover, I open it up. This box had all the things that got me through middle and high school. It had my diary entries and souvenirs I’ve collected all through the years. The first thing I see is my old romance story drafts. My hands start to shake and I feel like I'm going to cry. This is a story I wrote about him and me. It is an entry about our relationship over the time from when we met all the way through the end of college. I kept notes and letters in it. It's only a few pages so I decided to read it. I take a few deep breaths before starting. I’m not even halfway finished when I break down. Every moment was kept in this book. With the pages still in my hand, I fell to the ground. Holding the pages to my chest, I silently cry. He was my first everything. He was there for me in my best and my worst days too. He was my motivation, my inspiration. He did everything for me. He’d stood up for me when I couldn't defend myself. Where was the boy I fell in love with all those years ago? The boy that I grew up a life with. I put the book away, wiping away the tears. I curse myself at how stupid I was to fall for this. I grabbed the lid of the box to close it but something caught my eye. A postcard. It was of a waterfall surrounded by thick green forests. The water looks so clear. Then it hits me, an idea. I’m going to start a new life somewhere new. It was all planned out. I’ll move to a new place, the place on the postcard. A beautiful place where you’d be surrounded by miles and miles of thick forests. I had more than enough money, so money was not a problem. I was booking a flight when my mom called out to me before entering the room. I ran to her and put her arms in mine, guiding her to the bed for us to sit. “I have a plan” I said to her and I saw a worried look grow in her face. I excitedly told her about this plan of mine and that I was going to start everything over again. She didn’t agree at first, but eventually, after much persuasion, she gave in. “Make sure this is what you want, okay”, she said with a sigh followed by a smile. I get a book and finalize everything. Making lists of everything I needed. I also did a bit of research about this place after I booked the ticket. The trip will begin in three weeks. I asked my mom if she and my dad would come with me, hoping they would, but she said they have to take care of things here. It didn’t bother me because I knew how busy they are here. They have businesses here that need to be tended to. It would be crazy if they dropped everything just to have to start again in a completely new place. I, on the other hand, was more than excited. I was ecstatic. I’ve always wanted to go there. That's the whole reason I bought the postcard years ago. For the next three weeks, I continued to plan and I went shopping. There was no chance I was going back to the house, so it meant I'd have to buy everything I needed. I go to the biggest mall we have, name, because they have the best products. The day started off really well. I went from shop to shop getting everything I needed and a couple of things I really didn’t. This took me around three hours and at that point I'm starving. I asked one of my friends in one of the shops to hold my bags and he agreed. So I headed to the diner across from the mall. I felt like walking today. It was a good day. I take the seat next to the window, it’s always brighter there. I was on my phone while I waited for the waiter. She comes to my table and smiles at me. I smile back and she looks freaked out. I ask her if she’s okay and she replies with “no sorry, what can I get for you” as she struggles to get the pen out of her hair. She wouldn’t stop staring at me, but I shook it off and ordered. She walks to the back and I hear arguing and look back. She’s looking back and forth between me and someone in the back. She looks back at me and quickly looks down. I’m weird out at this point, but I'm hungry, so I act like nothing has happened and wait for my food. She comes back out with my food nervously and doesn't look at me. I look at her, swearing she looked familiar. Then I realized where I knew her from that night. My jaw drops and tears form in my eyes. She looks at me, realizing that I knew and runs to the back. I don’t eat, I don't get up. I just sat there staring at the food. After a long time, someone comes up to my table, sits across from me and doesn't say anything. I didn't bother to look at who it was and put my head down. I knew who it was.