Untamed (REWRITING)

37

Days and nights intertwined, not slowly down for the wrapped up bundle on the bed, date and time was lost to Shelby. Immediately her plane left the ground she cried, Heather has booked her a first class seat which Shelby took as her final act of kindness.

Her tears hadn't dried up even when her plane landed, not daring to call Bran to pick her up she flagged a cab down paying him double for listening to her unattractive wails.

On the third day of her pity party she dropped a message with one of the ranch hands, Bran would run over to her place if she called him directly and she wasn't ready for the barrage of emotions from someone else, she was still trying to sort out hers.

Brand did come after that day banging on her door and yelling at her to open it or he would break it down. Deep down Shelby wanted him to break it down, hold her in his arms, tell her it would be alright; tell her he would beat Heather to a pulp but it never happened.

There was always a basket of food by the door when she peeked through the blinds, days turned into weeks pushing Shelby into a new unhealthy routine- a routine nonetheless.

Bran dropped off a basket of food every morning, Shelby waited for an hour before she dragged it in through the slightly opened door. The fruits would rot making Shelby throw them out, she only ate already made food, she was always useless in the kitchen that was still not enough reason to burn her sulking joint to the ground.

The feeling of sadness wrapped its arm around her warming her bed at night and caressing her pillows with hot tears. Her clear eyes were red from all the crying, itching it didn't help the color, Shelby was sure she would have an infection soon but she was too tired to care.

One month passed, Shelby drowned deeper in her sadness counting the days like a prisoner in her bedroom that now her cell, her bedroom stank or maybe it was her, her hair had lost its vibrant look and curl, sticking to her scalp like glue due to its unwashed state. She rarely opened her mouth except when Bran stopped over with one of his basket of goodies, holding a conversation would surely cause an uproar in the country, she might even be the cause of a pandemic.

Bran dropped the basket of food on Shelby's porch with a heavy sigh, he promised his friend he would take care of her, she was worse off than when her father died. He didn't know what happened on her vacation but this reaction meant it was anything but good.

He had thought Heather would be good for her, maybe he was wrong. Had he pushed too much? Was he the reason she was choosing to live like a hermit? Bran sighed again as he started his grey beat down truck, he waited like he always did for weeks until he saw her tiny hands pushing the blinds down before he drove off with a heavy heart and a burdened mind.

Shelby watched Bran's truck speed off squinting at the blurry image of the basket on her porch, itching her irritated eyes didn't make the image clearer so she opened the door wider so she could crawl out. The basket was still on the porch for another thirty minutes with Shelby's red eyes trained solely on it, why did Bran have to put it so far away? Shelby almost hissed from the brightness of the outside world.

Shelby's stomach screamed out a series of protest that made her dizzy, she hadn't touched the last basket Bran brought so she could just crawl back in to save herself the energy but she remembered the smell when she crawled past the kitchen, wrinkling her nose she crawled out with determined eyes.

"I was beginning to think you would never come out."

The voice startled Shelby, her hands were frozen midair above the handle of the basket, she could grab it and crawl back into the house-

"Let me get that for you."

The basket was no longer in her line of sight so she panicked, her blurred vision didn't make it any better.

"Hey! Hey!" Tracy tried to soothe the woman who was grabbing the air around her frantically, showing her the basket nestled in her arms. "Can we go in there?"

Shelby glared at the floating basket half listening to the question, crawling back into the house was harder than she thought, the only thing making her struggle worth it was the floating basket right in front of her.

Tracy frowned at the woman crawling into her home feeling something she had never felt for her before... compassion. When Bran kissed his way to this preposition she was livid, Shelby Maclean didn't deserve her company or her husband's kindness, she was a spoilt brat who sat in her office pushing her work load into Bran's arms not caring that the man wasn't at young as he used to be.

She watched the woman pant, sweat dripping down her face in waves. She didn't look strong in that moment in fact that was the lowest Tracy had ever seen her, she was always in control of her feelings and expressions. This woman in front of her was not even a fragment of who she was, she was a broken piece.

Tracy cleaned up the house, did the laundry not that there was much of it and aired the rooms, in an hour it didn't smell like rotten eggs and bad fruits anymore. Shelby was curled into a ball by the door snoring softly, Tracy shook her softly placing a bowl of steamy chicken soup by her side she didn't look like she could stomach any real food. Her collar bone jutted out, her cheeks were hollowed coupled with red eyes that looked infected. Tracy's observation? She had never seen a sorrier sight.

Shelby sat still in the bath tub as Tracy scrubbed her clean falling asleep at some point when she started washing her hair, Tracy dragged Shelby out of the tub with surprising ease, she was all bones and wet hair.

Shelby found herself forcing down another bowl of chicken soup. A bucket was in her face when the soup came back out, she retched painfully squeezing her stomach, her bones grinded together bringing a new wave of tears to her eyes, she rinsed her mouth when she was done dry heaving.

Another bowl of soup was forced down her throat, she vomited the contents thirty minutes after and so the torture continued, Soup - vomit - tears.

By the fifth bowl she was too exhausted to throw up again so she kept it down, a cool rag was placed on her head which helped with her headache, her eyes were half closed and blurry, the only thing she could see was the silhouette of a woman before they shut completely.

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