Two Worlds Distanced

Chapter 111

RACHEL

After seeing Ezra leaving the hospital all brokenhearted and hurt, part of me really wants to go chase after him to wrap his warm arms around me with those strong arms. Yet, the other half of me has this strong feeling in my gut that he's gone. I still can't believe he has done this enough damage for three months of knowing him.

I never thought three months would hurt me the most, more than the three year relationship I was in with Wyatt. All of those years, every second only causes me suffering, like I'm drowning in my own pool of tears without anybody caring to help me out; something keeps pushing me deeper and deeper. I can't breathe. There's no oxygen in the entire world that can help and breathe normally again when the air around is filled with blurry vision from crystal clear lies. I see Alex reading a sports magazine and holding my hand for comfort. He insisted on staying with me, I told him that he could leave but he said no because the weather was going to get worse.

...

Once I got my medicine, I asked Alex if I could stay over at his apartment for a few days, and luckily he said yes. I don't think I even want to go back to Ezra's apartment because it was never mine, I moved in without a second of wanting to decorate like putting pictures of us on the wall. I mean we take pictures, well not together at least. I mostly have pictures of him, especially of him smiling.

"Are you really sure you don't want me to help you? I can if you want me to," Alex suggests as I grab my keys out of my bag then open the door, "Yeah. I'm sure," I answer as I take a deep breath when heading inside to smell the fire from earlier burning out. I close the door, turn on the light and see there's chairs, pillows and two empty whiskey bottles which is Ezra's specialty on the floor.

I slid my body down onto the cold hard wooden floor as wishing I could turn back time to everything was good. Where I never found the journal because it's the cause of the accident. I'm feeling pain everywhere, I don't think my medication or anything else could help the pain go away; for a few minutes, I look around before getting up from the floor then walk towards the bedroom for the last time. I take a memory picture and memorize every inch of this place to remember every food fight Ezra and I had or all of the classic movie marathon to hear Ezra say all of the words of The Breakfast Club. Claire Standish and John Bender had their problems with each other and of their own but he only joked about her being a virgin when my own John only took mine and made me as the joke.

I went inside the closet to grab my suitcase and whatever was hanging up to throw in my suitcase. I don't even take a second to fold anything. But it doesn't seem real. I'm doing this again, packing the same suitcase to do the only thing I know how to do,running away from my problems and the world when it gets hard. Over the past year, I have run in the other direction to save myself, well what's left. I had to save it before I got into another fight with a new bruise from Wyatt. Now it's the same running away with a different boy with a different reason to run.

As soon as I close up my suitcase, I check the closet to see if I probably missed anything, the corner of my eye catches something shoved in the corner with a plastic bag over it. Please don't be a secret stash of drugs or even alcohol. I repeatedly say to myself, grab the plastic bag, open it up and it's Ezra red sweater. I adore this sweater because it reminds me of how we first met. I smell it, it doesn;t smell like him, I miss him. I miss wearing his clothes.

I thought he threw the sweater into the fire like he did with the journal before I ran out of the apartment. I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my chest and it's a little monster being called guilt, yet I don't know why I feel so guilty since he wrote a stupid journal about everything I told him from the moment I met him, and I feel numb around my body when dropping down to my knees, "WHY?" I scream out.

The door slams open, and Alex runs towards me, comes to my leave and tightly wraps his arms around me, "Shhh, it's okay," I hear him repeatedly tell me.

"I hate him. I hate him," I scream out. I hate him with every bone, every cell and once of blood in me. I can't bear to see him.

...

After packing all of my things that I have in his truck, Alex kept looking at me like I'm some piece of glass ready to break apart. I already broke when I found the journal. I still can't breathe when I was breaking in tears in his arms; when I began to calm down, he told me when getting inside the car that he had to go to the mall so he could finish up some Christmas shopping. I didn't think about Christmas because I haven't been in a holly jolly mood lately from all of this negative stuff called two things, family and relationships.

"What were you thinking about getting for your family?" I asked Alex as we parked the car. I mentally make a list of what to get and for who like Angela, Alex if I can hide his gift in his truck and Ezra.

I continue thinking what to get for Ezra and it makes my stomach a little because all I want to do is give him a hard kick in the ass, "Rachel?".

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" I answered back, I didn't know he was talking. Sometimes when I'm in my head too much, I get distracted.

"It's okay," he laughs, "I said I was thinking about getting a new set of pots and pan, she's been using the same ones since I can remember and for my father, a new watch for his collection," he says as showing his watch that's probably more expensive than my car bill every year, "What are you getting for your relatives for Christmas? Also I thought you weren't supposed to come back until Saturday?" he asks in a confusing way and I bite my tongue for a minute because how can I say that my life turned upside down within a few days in one conversation without bursting into tears.