"The brightest star on the darkest night." (Hiatus)

Ten.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．
Tw: themes of hinted at ptsd, yelling, survivors guilt.

Italics other than diary entries represent past memories

November 7th, 1978

Dear diary, it's November! Whoo.

:/

Still very glum to be honest though, I miss before this whole thing.

I miss the quiet of my life and not having to deal with all of these people asking me if I'm okay.

I'm obviously not okay, if that happened to them would I be asking every five fucking seconds if they are okay? No!!!

God, they treat me like I'm the only victim! What about the parents, the survivors other than me?? So many died that night and all they seem to ask is if I'M okay. No. I'm not.

- Maxine.

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The cover of Romeo and Juliet sat softly on the end of the bed, she hadn't opened it yet, not a single line in her mind in all honesty. She was pretty sure she bought it for the art on the cover and how pretty it was.

Sad.

Anyways.

The sounds of heels clicking against the floor, "you gonna be alright for the night?" Her mothers head poked through the door, she was dressed nicely.

"Yeah.. I'll be okay, Mama." The older woman adjusted her earrings before she sat down on the bed next to her daughter.

"Are you sure? We can call someone to stay with you.." she cupped her face.

"I'll be okay.. I promise, now it's date night and you haven't had one in months..which means Papi went all out."

"Yeah, he probably did." She pressed a kiss to her forehead and got up. "I love you, Mija."

"I love you, too." She smiled lightly, her fathers voice could be heard in the hall.

"You love me more though right!? I'm the best dad in the world hun!"

"Go on your date! Shoo I don't want to hear this anymore." She rolled her eyes and slumped back down onto the bed.

Quiet.

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The young woman opened her eyes, they drifted towards the clock. In big bold red states '11:11 PM.'

Nice. She rubbed her eyes and sat upwards wiping away the sleeping from her eyes. The sounds of knocking hit her door and well that's as a bit weird considering what hour it was so maybe it was her parents? But they have keys so..

   Her eyes narrowed as she got up, walking towards her bedroom door she's peeked into hallway. A baseball bat sat next the door and she reached for it taking it nimbly into her hands.

Maxine is now stood in front of the front door. A few more knocks hit it seemingly just there to be there. She looked through the peephole and her heart jumped.

Nick stood there behind the door, he looked sad.

Ew.

She lowered the bat leaning it against the wall as she opened the door. "Could you knock any goddamn harder?" She hissed.

"Max,," his face softened as a small smile filled his face, his eyes meeting hers as she took notice of the pink pigment to his cheeks. "Are you drunk?"

"No,, a little tipsy.. maybe that's why I'm so sad." He smiled dumbly lowering his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't stop thinking about you." Nick's voice broke.

"Nick.."

His eyes met hers once more as tears brimmed in the corners of them. "I miss you so much.." she stared at him, unable to really speak. "I love you, so so much."

"Nick, please.."

"One..one more chance, Max.. please.." he kinda got on his knees, he was looking up at her.

"Get up, you look like a fool, Nick." She felt her heart ache.

"Maxine, I'm devoted to you like- like a moth drawn to a flame,"

"You shouldn't be devoted to me, I'm no god."

"Your like my god, you could tell me to stop breathing and I would."

"Nick this is unhealthy for you," she bent down meeting his level on the ground. "This attachment is unhealthy."

"...can I.."

"Can you what?" Her voice was soft.

"Can I get one more night with you at-least? I just want to hold you one more time.."

"Nick, please.." she stared at him. "..one more time."

He took that moment to wrap his arms around her, his head resting on her chest. She tensed up and held a breath.

He smothered himself in her arms, just trying to get back a piece of himself that seemed to be taken the night they broke up. She felt conflicted in a sense. She didn't like the way he attached himself to her. It was awful.