n i n e t e e n

26 2 5
                                    


I flopped onto my bed, worn out by my thoughts

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I flopped onto my bed, worn out by my thoughts.

A small alert rang on my cellphone.

The company had provided me with a small cellphone.

One of the perks.  

"Hello Char.  It's Peter.  Text me back if you see this."  

My eyes widened.  Peter?  How had he found me?
I never intended for anyone to find me.  Anyone.  

My fingers hovered over the screen,  not knowing what to say.

I wanted to answer, I really did.  I really really wanted to. 

But the other half of me told me that I would just be going back.  Looking back.  I came here because I didn't want to ruin anyone else's life, if not already.  If I answered him, we would meet again.  Connect again.  And what would be the difference than before?

Other then the fact that I have a job and that I'm a high school dropout.

Instead, I shoved my cellphone under my pillow.  

And tried to go to sleep.  I had another shoot the next day and boy, it was like hell.

That company reminded me of the torture I had gone through with Bing.  

Every day, I suffered.  I can actually admit it.

It's that bad.

I know.  Cellphone.  Money.  House.  Food.  Better than anything since my parents' deaths. 

But at what cost?

Being groped all day?  Dressing up in outfits that would make my parents tsk up there in heaven?

It feels like darkness right now.  Like a black hole.  

I'm in this trap and I can't get out.  No matter what I do, no matter where I hide, work and try, I'll never escape.

I'll never escape life.

I've thought about suicide.  Don't get me wrong, I've come pretty close a few times.  But what I've learned is this:

You always regret something when it's too late.  And that's whats stopping me from jumping off a building.

The funny thing is, I don't know what darkness is.

It's just dark.

It's not black, it's not any color.  You can't see anything cause you're not seeing.

And I think that's what I'm like.  I can't see anything cause I refuse to.

I don't want to face this world by myself.  Who wants to?  

That's why I grabbed my phone out and texted Peter.

Central Park ,4:30, tomorrow.

--


I adjusted my jacket, hugging it around my body.  The November air swished around me, making my hair fly out in all directions.  

One hand flew to my hair, holding it down across my neck.  I'm seriously so pathetic.

The taxi driver drove away after receiving his pay, and I started walking towards a bench.

It was Peter.

He seemed to notice me, and he stood up, waiting patiently for me to come to him.

I felt like running back.  

But my steps pushed me closer and closer to a man who had changed my life.

He looked the same, for the most part, but his hair was styled a little differently, his eyes more colder than ever.

How could brown eyes be cold?  I've always found them warm and welcoming.

"Charlotte," he said, once we were a few feet apart.

"Peter."  I replied, matching his tone.

He took another step closer to me.  "It's been almost a year."  

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek.

"You look different."  he said.  "In a good way.  You look healthier."  

I didn't know what to say.  "You too?" 

He didn't even smile.  "I- Charlotte, you left me." 

I was surprised.  We met each other after a year and this is what he wants to talk about?

"It was for the better!  I can't always have someone shielding me like a lost puppy!"  I told him.

"For the better?  Working at a lingerie company who's famous for abusing their employees?"  Peter said, his eyes digging into my skull.

I looked up at him.  He had done his research. 

I had only found out a few months ago when an employee had told me.

"It's good money," I shrugged.

"For what?  To be back into that hellhole that will constantly remind you of... before?  What was wrong when you were here with me?  Hell, Charlotte!  You didn't even finish high-school!"  Peter argued.  

"I didn- I didn't feel safe!"  I lied.

"And you feel safe now?"  he replied.  "You're here without anyone, living who-knows-where!"  Peter said, his voice darkened.

"I'm not homeless anymore," I tried.

"But your heart is!  You can't just keep hiding Charlotte!"  Peter said, his fists clenching.  "Is that your name now?  Was it ever your name?"

"It's Lottie now.  But Charlotte was my real name, I promise!"  I whispered.

He scoffed. 

"How did you even get my number?"  I asked, my heart thumping against my chest.

"Your boss.  He has a light mouth," he joked darkly.

"Good bye, Peter.  This isn't how I expected our meeting to go," I said quietly.

Peter's eyes lit, almost like he had realized how angry he was.  "Charlotte, I'm sorry.  It-It's just been so long, and I was so, so angry when I found you gone!"  

"Why?" I said, turning my head.  "Why were you so angry?  You had met me for a few months!"  I said, my eyes stinging.

"Because Charlotte!  Don't you understand?  I've gone through some of what you've have!  I could carry part of your burden!  You just wouldn't let me!"  Peter said, his voice shaking.

My heart dropped.  I shook my head slightly.

"Peter-"

"What,"  Peter said, looking away from me.  

"I- I want to come back.  I want to come back, ok?  But now it's too late!  Everyone's moved on!  I'm just a fog hanging around in some people's brain!  I'm invisible to everyone else."  I said quietly.

"Not to me, Char, not to me."  Peter shook.  "You've done stuff to me. You're in my head 24/7, and I- I can't stop worrying about you!"  

I froze.  

I closed my eyes.

"Come home with me.  This can stop.  It can stop now.  Get a job.  Live with me.  I have an apartment.  Use Lottie's name.  Just-"  Peter rambled.

"Ok."  I said.  "Ok."

Peter's eyes widened.  "No running away."  

"No," I said, walking closer to him.  "This ends now.  We start over again."




We BrokeWhere stories live. Discover now