SWIPE AND HIT PLAY FOR MUSIC!
Jordan's POV
•€•
February 6th
5am...boxing
10am...still boxing
This is the only thing that can draw me from the murk of my mind. Even if the effect is minimal.
There's only one other thing that can successfully do the job but I'm hesitant. She's never seen me on a day like this. I've never been with her on a day like this.
The last I want to do is scare her. The last I want to do is allow her to see this side of me. A side I've tried so hard to suppress. It's intimidating.
It's terrifying.
I keep my distance, from her and everyone else. No one could reach me if they wanted to. My phone is off and my whereabouts are only known by me.
I continue to pound the punching bag and with every blow, I sink a memory back deep into the crevices of my brain. With every drip of sweat, the same burning sensation revisits me.
The same sensation I felt on the hardest day of my life 8 years ago.
"Yo, J!" I hear. I don't have the brain capacity for this. I slowly turn around to see Mark. His expression shows worry but I lack concern.
He's an old friend but friends are the least of my worries. No one in this world deserves to hold a title in my life. No one has earned it.
No one but her.
"Yeah," I answer shortly. I land a powerful blow and clench my jaw. He clears his throat.
"I haven't seen you in a while," he continues.
"Yeah," I continue my laconic tone but he's still standing before me. Choosing against lashing out, I pause the music and give him my attention.
I need him to say whatever it is so he can leave. Or so I can leave. This isn't helping anymore.
"I just wanted to let you know that Jason got his boys looking for you," he says. My body tenses as my eyes find the front doors. His men appear and I'm grateful that I decided to hear him out.
"Thanks," I say before leaving. Through the back door of course. I don't need this shit right now.
Pulling off, my mind instantly clouds. I don't know how I've survived this long...the last six months excluded.
I circle the sight more times that I can keep track of.
Fuck it
I head over to the gravesite and let out the breath I was holding. Fuck this shit feels like it just happened.
Justice Mikai Jones
Loving Son, Brother and Friend
A protector
June 28th 1989- February 5th 2014
They say that everyone will go through all the stages of grief eventually. But I'm stuck. Stuck at the same stage for 8 years.
Denial.
I kneel before the grave and dusk it off. I should have some work done on it. He got a proper burial with the money he had left for me and I was able to use the rest to go to school but it needed to be touched up.
"Hey, Jus," I greet, imagining the way he'd greet me, grabbing me tightly with one arm around my neck and the other rustling my hair.
YOU ARE READING
Frequencies
Romance*Not edited* I snuggled into the pillow before I felt his arm wrap around me, pulling me closer. My head now in his chest as he pulled my leg over him. "I love you," he whispered with his eyes closed. "Why?" I whispered back and he opened his eyes...
