His Little Amelia

|74| • Everest

My body lay still on the bed as I looked up to the ceiling. How long had I been staring at the lines from the gypsum board? Counting the vertical and then the horizontals. This was beyond pathetic, like a paralyzed man with a broken heart, counting the ceiling boards while having nothing but pain squeeze at my heart. I didn't want to move, not today. Even though I managed to work at Abel's workshop the day before, I woke up today feeling worse than usual as though the entire world lay on my shoulders. So I sank in bed, closing my eyes, and opening them to count, eyes closed, eyes open.

Repeat.

The cobwebs on the ceiling gave an accent and darkened around the edges. A bit of light still managed to spill into the dark room, giving a bit of illumination as I counted. By now, my eyes had been accustomed to the lack of light and ventilation. I just lay there, feeling depressed.

A part of me stopped blaming Amelia after a day passed; the numerous times I thought it over, I couldn't stand putting all the blame on her. So, I felt a gut-wrenching pain for making her cry so bad. The way she begged me not to leave her, the way she got on her knees when I did as well, the pain was choking. I kept telling myself I had no choice. If I stayed in the apartment, coated in anger, I might have made hasty decisions I'd definitely regret.

I needed time.

I needed her to realize she couldn't always do things to please her friends, and that in doing so, she'd hurt me.

But leaving her that way did more harm than good to me. I was barely living now. The first day in here, I'd avoided the questions Ma and Saffron fired my way, my Pa on the other hand seemed to understand what was going on with a simple glance and told the two to let me be. To be honest, I was darn grateful for that. Food in my mouth tasted sour, or perhaps it was just the bitter taste on my tongue and the sting in my heart which robbed me of my appetite. One thing I knew for sure was that I couldn't keep sulking. I had a job.

So the next day, I got off my butt and pushed myself to work. Abel didn't ask questions, meaning he was still in the dark, which was good. The last thing I wanted was a pity party. Drowning myself in work did a bit of good for the time it lasted, I was occupied, my mind empty. When I got home, Saffron demanded I tell her what was wrong. So I did, in the shortest way possible.

I got cheated on and came here because I felt like a pathetic loser who couldn't hold his temper.

If her eyes were any wider that day, I'd be sure her eyes would pop out, then her eyebrows creased, her lips turning down in a frown. There it was, the pity I didn't want from anyone. So I turned my heels, not bothering to eat anything that night before calling it a day.

It had been three days now since I came here. I was now reduced to a moss, laying in bed, counting the ceiling boards, seeing as my will to go to work wasn't present, besides, it wasn't my shift today, It was Tuesday, the day I usually went for therapy. Ah...Mrs. Loren would be disappointed in me. I'd come a long way with the therapy session, yet here I was, drowning in negative thoughts, feeling like a boulder sitting on my entire body.

A strangled sigh came from my throat, it burned to even open my mouth, I was dehydrated, and my stomach was empty. But I didn't care, I was too exhausted to walk, too ashamed to even leave my room. I left my heart at the mercy of a girl, and she did as she pleased with it. Who was I to complain? Chuckling bitterly, the mere thought of that stabbed my chest. Bringing my hands to my face, I used my elbow to cover my eyes. I...I don't know what the hell I'm going to do now. I had left the apartment for her, what was next?

I didn't think I could bring myself to forgive her but I wanted to, so damn much. Perfect was the last thing any of us were, my screw up's were still at the back of my mind, how I'd welcomed Florescent like a long-time friend, even scolding Amelia because of a stupid phone call, how I'd run to Florescent's call like a damn dog. Trust me, I knew I was far from perfect. But when weighed on a scale, my hurt wouldn't dare allow me to forgive her so easily.