Unbreakable

Chapter 17: I Will Always Love You

Chapter 17: I Will Always Love You

I slammed the gas, full of sheer aggravation. I turned the corner of the road, nearly sliding off it. My vision blurred; my head full of vexation.

The tears flew wildly. I pulled off to the side of the road, preventing myself from doing something wreckless.

I sat momentarily, wallowing. I shot my fist at the dashboard, then the steering wheel, and unintentionally … the window.

It shattered, glass pouring in from outside.

“Damn it.” I expressed to myself.

Maybe punching my truck wouldn’t take away my anguish.

I leaned my head over the wheel, breathing heavily. I almost had to cover my mouth to keep from howling my hatred to the world.

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I pulled into Kamie’s driveway and walked up to her door.

I don’t know how I’m going to explain the bloody mess that my fist is.

Kamie answered the door.

She looked surprised to see me.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. She must be a mind reader.

I pulled her into my arms, hugging around her hips, putting my hand on her hair. She squeezed me tighter than I’d imagined she could.

“What is it?” She whispers into my ear.

I pull away from the hug, keeping a grip on her hips.

“I can’t do it anymore. I left my dad.” I had to chuckle at that statement. We weren’t a divorced couple, we were just a broken relationship.

“I’m sorry.” She offers, running her hands through my hair.

“I just don’t know where to go.” I admit, I imagined going to Taylorsville by myself, living at heaven. It’d be nice.

She sat for a minute, her flawless face thoughtful.

“You can stay with me for a while.” She says finally, smiling boastfully.

She takes my hand. I grimace.

“Oh my god!” She says, pulling my fist up to her view, “What did you do to your hand?”

“I punched my window… total misunderstanding.” I respond.

She catches ahold of my wrist and jurks me upstairs, into the bathroom.

She grabbed the first aid kit from her closet.

“I’m fine, seriously.” I deny. She pulls gauze out from it, the crimson fell from my hand to the sink, gushing perfusiously.

“You’re bleeding, stupid! You aren’t fine.” She chortles, tearing a piece of medical tape from the roll.

Carefully, she winds it around my palm, stopping the bleeding and covering up the 3 inch gash.

“There.” She kisses my hand. “All better.”

                           _____________________

Kamie

 “I figure my mom won’t want you in my room with me, so, here.” I say, showcasing the couch. I’d draped a sheet over it, put two pillows on the ends, and layed a blanket on it.

He grabs my hands, spins me around, and then dips me as if we were dancing.

We rock back and forth akwardly on our toes, still attempting to dance. I bite my lip, hoping he wouldn’t notice my problematic agitation.