Chapter 2
1099 Words
It was late at night when everything went down.
It was raining hard, heavy and constant. I'd never heard of rain this bad until the day before Thanksgiving, let alone the first snowfall of the season. Not only that, but it rained in New Jersey all the time, you never knew if it would stop and leave New York a mess.
But tonight, that wasn't happening.
At least not until tomorrow. Or maybe it wouldn't snow at all. Maybe it was just going to turn into sleet. Yeah, that sounded more logical. I just hoped that whatever I'd been dreading wouldn't happen while I was asleep. I didn't think I could deal with getting wet and possibly sick.
I tossed and turned under my blankets, hoping that eventually the sheets and pillow would warm up enough to sleep. It didn't work. My mind just wasn't allowing me peace; every time I closed my eyes, my brain went back to earlier today and that fear I'd experienced. Fear I refused to name, despite the fact that I'd experienced it before.
Even when I was scared, even when I hated it, nothing had prepared me for how terrifying those feelings actually were.
So I lay in bed, my breathing becoming shallow, tears pricking at my eye lids, and eventually fell asleep. No matter how many times I'd done that lately, I was still tired. I woke up feeling groggy, sore muscles protesting and head pounding.
I tried to ignore these pains and slowly opened my eyes; there was no light coming from outside the window, just the glow of the Christmas tree in the living room. I was grateful for that, not because it meant it would still be bright outside, but rather because I didn't have to open them right now. Instead, I rolled over onto my side and stared at the wall; the colors were beginning to fade, but that still wasn't comforting enough.
Suddenly, it dawned on me: today was Christmas Eve. That meant Santa Claus was going to visit us this morning; my mom always told me to thank him whenever I got gifts. But I was too tired and confused to even try and talk to him, much less thank him. So instead, I decided that a simple 'thank you' would be sufficient.
Then again, I was pretty sure Santa didn't even come anymore. He died about 4 years ago; everyone else still believed in him though.
My phone vibrated and I reached out blindly across my nightstand for it. Sure enough, it lit up and began to ring. I checked the caller ID but I could barely read the names printed above the numbers. After staring at it for a minute, I realized that whoever was calling me probably hadn't noticed the screen dimming. With a sigh, I slid out of bed and stumbled into my kitchen.
After rummaging through cabinets and finding a couple of painkillers for my headache, I settled onto the couch and hit accept.
"Hello?" I croaked, sitting forward so my face was right in front of the camera.
"Hi!" came a chirpy voice, followed shortly by a familiar chuckle.
"Apollo?" I questioned, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
Why did he call? Did he forget the date? Wasn't he supposed to be busy all day? Then again, I guess he didn't care about what was important, as long as I was happy.
"Well yeah," came his reply, "but you can say hi to me."
"Hi, Apollo!" I said, giving my best smile.
He chuckled and I smiled wider. This is why he called me every night, it's the first thing I heard every time I picked up the phone.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Okay, I guess," I mumbled, resting my elbows on my knees, "why are you calling?"
"Oh, I'm sorry babe, I should have thought about that." His tone changed suddenly and a frown formed on my face.
"You're acting differently." I stated, narrowing my eyes slightly. I didn't mean to sound confrontational or accusing.
He sighed on the other end, "I'm afraid I'll miss another Christmas Eve with you, Rynnie. It's been so long. I miss you."
I smiled sadly, "you can come back soon."
There was a moment of silence,
"Rynnie.." he trailed off. I could hear the hurt in his tone, I hated seeing him upset. Especially over Christmas. I had a feeling he was about to tell me something important. I waited patiently for him to continue.
"I'm moving." My eyes widened in surprise, "I'm going to move back to Jersey. I have a job offer there, plus a new one. But-"
"But what?" I interrupted, cutting him off.
He paused, trying to figure out how to put it. I was getting impatient.
"You might think I'm crazy." He admitted after what felt like hours had passed.
"No one has accused you of being crazy yet, Apollo." I replied.
"I...I'll miss you." He sighed, "I love you."
"I love you too," I whispered.
"Bye, Rynnie."
"Goodbye, Apollo," I replied.
I hung up then, knowing that it was going to be the last conversation we ever spoke. For several minutes after I pressed send, I stayed curled up on the couch, watching the clock on the opposite wall. Ten past seven, then eleven, then twelve, then twenty four.
Finally, at ten till one, I stood and headed to the bathroom. By the time I returned to the living room, my dad was already asleep. As soon as I walked into my bedroom, my mother was already fast asleep. She didn't even stir as I climbed under my covers. I laid awake for hours, trying to find any way to ease my pain, but none presented itself.
Eventually I fell asleep as well. At some point during my dreams, I awoke again to see a single tear falling from my eye. I wiped the droplet away before rolling over on my stomach and wrapping my arms tightly around my pillow.
In the end, I managed to get two full hours of sleep. However, I awoke again at three o'clock in the afternoon and was once again plagued with nightmares. I kept tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably each time. Finally, after a lot of thinking, I crawled out of bed and padded into the bathroom.
I turned the water cold so I could splash my face, which only brought more tears down my cheeks.
What could I do? What should I do?
Why couldn't my life ever go the way I wanted?
- Writer
