Chapter 18 (post four)

Pre-note: There are a number of things wrong with this section, I'm sure. This section is particularly rough as I try to convey a number of things at once. It may also be disgustingly cheesy and predictable, and maybe unrealistic, and who knows if it'll last in the second draft, but I don't care. I don't care cause I love the idea, because it is so cheesy and sweet. LOL! :D

And, may I mention, that I got lots of writing done tonight and have a slightly better idea of what's going on in chapter 19 (which I was worried about cause I didn't really know what was going on with that chapter, lol). I'm also feeling all inspired, yet sad, cause that's what writing does for me, but I love it anyways :)

So here's the ending of chapter 18.

Chapter eighteen, section four (pg 54):

“Leave me alone,” I said coldly.

The knock came again, persistent and annoyingly caring.

“New Wings? What’s wrong?” came the voice through the door, although I didn’t let the words seep through the cracks of my mind the way they did into my room.

I pushed logic aside and replied, “Go. A. Way.”

Footsteps came from outside my room, but they didn’t fade away. Instead Jake called, “I can wait.”

I hardly heard him; my sobs returned. My hair fell around my head like a golden halo to match my wings. The blankets caught my tears, but offered no advice on how to stop them from falling.

I knew he could hear me, but I didn’t care anymore.

I couldn’t stop the tears. They racked my body, surged through me and out. The pain and loneliness hiding in closets in my head found their way to my conscious thoughts. My stomach twisted as my body curled into a tight ball.

My mom used to have breakdowns during the “off” period that came after the divorce. That’s what the psychologist told me, “off days.”

I was about ten, trying to understand what divorce was. When the doctor called it an “off” period, I wondered what we’d fallen off of. The idea of the perfect family? The stability of family at home? Love, happiness? Then I asked her, “Can we turn it back on?”

This is how I felt now, off wanting to be turned back on.

Eventually my tears ran dry, although they left me feeling worse than before.

I lay in my bed, hardly breathing, listening but hearing nothing. Nothing, not sound from the outside world.

Slowly, I crept up the door of my room, unlocked it and peered out into the hall. Jake sat on the floor, cross legged and determined to stay there, despite the fact it must have been at least an hour. He looked at me, with huge understanding eyes, and the tears came back to me.

I slammed the door shut, running back into my room and into the safety of my bed as the sobs came again.

Slowly, without a word, Jake was there beside me. He came in my unlocked door, crawled into my bed behind me, wrapped his arms around my broken body, squeezed me tight and held me.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, or even whether it was day or night by that time. I just know my tears stopped, and my breathing shook slower and slower with its last stammers.

When the room finally fell silent, I listened to his heart beat. It was steady, strong, comforting. His arms were warm around me and I could feel his chest rising and falling.

Although I was calmer than before, in other ways I wasn’t. I could feel my heart beating twice as fast as his and my breathing seemed to be forced in order to be calm. My back was to him, so the only part of him I could see were his hands around me. To make up for this, my senses were awake. My ears listened to his breath and my skin felt everything it touched: his arm, his chest, the blankets.

I must have looked like a mess when I finally turned to face him. We were so close that my leg bumped his as I settled. I didn’t have the words to express what I wanted him to know, so I just buried my head into his chest, and mumbled, “Thanks.”

He tucked my stray hair behind my ear before wrapping his arms around me again.

“Of course,” he whispered back.

I loved the way his arms felt around me. I loved the way his body heat warmed my skin. I loved the way I could smell his cologne and detergent. I loved the way I felt like absolutely nothing in the world could touch me as long as I lay completely still, curled up against him. I loved being with him. And I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.