It was under control

thirty two

Jules

But I woke up.

I woke up.

Tom next to my side just like in the psychiatric ward. But I was in my own bed. My own room.

Was it all just a bad dream? A flashback from before?

Tom's hand was gripping tightly onto mine, my movement waking him from his very light sleep. And I cried. I cried that I woke up.

But it wasn't sad cries like all those times before.

A happy cry.

I woke up.

I'm alive.

"It's okay sweetheart, it was just a rough night." I sat up and hugged him tightly.

"I died."

Tom looked at me confused, "what do you mean my love?"

"I overdosed."

"You've overdosed?" Tom looked panicked.

"No no in my nightmare, like before."

He cupped my boney face in his hands, "lovely you panicked me then." I laughed while tears still flowed. "Just a flashback, okay, you are safe and I was right with you." He looked at me who had a glow on my face from sweat, he couldn't help but notice the scars on my arms; he squeezed my arm tightly.

"They are ugly Tom."

He scrunched his face in response, "they aren't Jules, I promise. And do you know what, when you love someone, all of their physical features are perfect. Especially the ones that are not fit to the beauty standard. Because their uniqueness and individuality is what means the most, it's a positive thing; not a bad thing. There is nothing about your physical appearance that needs to be changed in order for you to be loved, you are beautiful Jules, and the scars and your weight does not define that."

I smiled back at him, and for the first time I actually believed him, "Tom."

"Yes my dear."

"Can you tell me a story?"

"A story? What kind of story?"

"A happy one."

He smiled, "well, there was once a girl called Jules Hart; the girl who fought and won..."

... A semicolon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to.

The author is Jules and the sentence is her life.