artwork // s.w

9

|albany|

I remember when my dog died, we had rescused him from a shelter when I was five and he passed away when I was fifteen. I cried my eyes out that day, but it didn't compare to this. I remember my dad leaving when I was seven, althought I didn't fully understand anything about divorce, I cried a lot. But it didn't compare to this. I remember when being told my grandma had cancer when I was eleven. I was young but I sort of understood cancer was when your white blood cells replicated faster than your body could keep up, I cried that day too. But it didn't compare to this. I remember when she passed away when I was thirteen, I had cried for three weeks and didn't come out of my room. But nothing compared to this. This didn't want to make me shed a few tears and turn blue. It made me want to collapase and screaming at the moon.
I'm so stupid.
Stupid, the only word that seemed to be running through my mind. How could he do this? How did I not come to mind when he was kissing her? And out of all people, the one I hate the most. Claire. Why her? Most importantly, why didn't I see this coming? People warned me, yet I let him in anyways. I let him hug me, and kiss me, and hold my hand, and protect me. I thought he was just different, but I was wrong. Usually when I was wrong, I would brush it off. But this.... it made my blood boil and I was pretty sure the Jacks could feel the heat radiating off my body from where they were standing.
I was just so dizzingly, insanely, madly in love with him, that the consequences of it were completely not apart of the fabric of my thoughts.
Screaming and yelling at someone who was not involved in the situation did not help, so instead I locked Jack's phone and handed it back to him. I couldn't stand to see the picture of Sam kissing someone else. I slowly walked over to the edge of my bed and sat down, clentching my comforter in my hands while tears weld up in my eyes.
I hate that feeling when you know you're going to cry. Your lips quiver, your heart pounds, your eyes sting. Your face clenches up, and the tears start to fall. You can't stop them, no matter how hard you try. And it's not little tears that slide down your cheeks, it's big tears that make your eyes all read and puffy, your face tear-stained and your body heave. You can't stop the tears, and as you sit on your bed alone, you think of what you could have possibly done to stop the pain. Stop the suffering. But there's nothing you can do, nothing anyone can say. It's the kind of tears and pain that needed to be cried out, not talked out. And you know that you're hurting people you love, but you can't help it. And sometimes, you just don't care.
I let out a big shaky sigh as I cried while the two boys just stood there and watched me let it all out. I was shaking again.
"W-Who..." I tried speaking but I couldn't get a sound out very well, "Who s-sent you t-that?"
"Maya." Gilinsky's voice was small and soft.
Her name bothered me for some reason, why would she send Jack that? Knowing I would probably see it?
"Al, we're sorry we-" Johnson began to speak, but I just cut him off.
"Just go... Thank you for coming by." I added so I wouldn't sound so mean.
"We love you, Albany. Don't hesitate to call us at anytime if you need something. We're here for you." Jack G. said, and I took it into consideration because there was no way i'd be able to sleep after seeing what I did.
I gave a light nod and each boy kissed my cheek before leaving the room quietly.
So many thoughts rushed to my head, and before I knew it I was ripped off the neckalace Sam had given me and throwing it into some draw before shoving my face into a pillow and screaming.
Fuck you Sam, fuck you.

*

It was two o'clock in the morning now. The house was silent, my room was dark. My phone buzzed ocasionally, but I didn't want to check it. Not right now, at least. I haven't shut my eyes once, all they did was pour out tears. My heart felt sore and my face stung from the dried up salty tears. I wanted to be held and comforted, but I was alone. Alone and empty.
My mind comtimplated calling the Jacks, but they were probably asleep. I couldn't bare to wake them up and bore them with my stupid, pointless problems.
For the third time in ten minutes, my phone buzzed again. Who was trying to reach me at two a.m.? Annoyed, I reached over the mountain of used tissues and endless candy wrappers, grabbing my phone from my night stand. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness before reading what was on my screen.