Fragile

Preface

Chill ran down her spine, and she shivered involuntarily. She hugged her knees to her chest to keep herself warm. Apparently three set of sweaters, one hoodie, knitted gloves, three pair of socks on top of another, and a big red quilt made from wool wasn't enough for the job. December weather had never been friendly to her, but this time, it was cruel. Wind blew hard, making the window's frame shook violently, threatening to shatter any minute. As she looked up, the first drops of snow just started coming down. Soon, the ground would be covered in white. No bird chirping in the crisp morning, no sunshine peeking through the windows curtain, no flowers blooming in her flower beds, nothing. Not even those wild rabbits gonna showed up to steal vegetables from her small patch of backyard farm.

She sighed, missing it all already. It would be awhile until she could get her hands on gardening again, digging up soil and planting seeds. She always hates the cold and snow, since it kept her inside the house and basically not being able to do any of her favorite activities, such as gardening, or laying down on a hammock while reading some of her favorite books, or maybe just sitting outside and sipping a glass of cold lemonade in her violet summer dress and slippers.

Instead there she was, sitting in her comfy small bedroom, staring outside a window that was facing her backyard with a frown and a pout. She reached out for the heater knob, turned it all the way to the right, and the temperature rose quickly until it actually felt like a breezy summer day. She gave herself a satisfied smile, feeling better. After 5 more minutes of staring outside, cursing the snow under her breath and glared at the window, she stood up and looked around at her messy room.

There beside the window was her queen sized bed with lots and lots of books piled up in stacks on top of it. Most the books were from her childhood days, which she never find boring. Fairy tales and happy endings and brave heroes and faraway kingdom, the list goes on and on. She liked to read those books all over again, just so she could experience the feeling of reading them for the first time. But the newer ones, were mostly tragic and sad novels. Which oddly, she thought somehow brilliant and comforting. Perfectly captured in words. How the sad emotions in those book could be said so precisely, she never know. How the stories etched in her mind for weeks and still send her grieving because of it. One thing for sure, deep inside she was poetic.

There were also some old family photo albums, dusty and halfway opened, showing a picture of a 6 years old version of herself, grinning widely at the camera while holding an ice cream. Good old days.

Across her bed, stood her wooden hairdresser, which filled up most of her room because of its size. She walked slowly to the hairdresser. An enormous mirror was in the middle of it, but she didn't dare to look at herself right now. She wasn't ready to see that bloodshot eyes again, those haunting black eye bags, and her knotted sandy brown hair. Instead she focused on the photos that were scattered on its desk.

The first photo she picked up was taken a few years ago. It was a picture of her mother kissing her cheek while holding a slice of home made carrot cake she loved. Her mom's birthday. Next was a picture of her classmates that was taken last summer. In the picture they were holding hands and had their back to the camera, facing the waves and the sea. Their vacation to Miami. She remembered the heat, the laughter, the long car ride, filled with the echo of their singing on the top of their lungs. The silly pictures and the long walk on the beach. The midnight swim they took just because they wanted to. Another small memory popped up in the back of her mind, but she buried it just before the tears build up again. Hurriedly, she picked up another photo, and another. She looked through all of it, until the very last one.

And the last photo stopped her breathing all at once. She gripped the edge of the desk tightly for support, feeling lightheaded, too tight until her knuckles turned white. She stared, wide eyed, at the photo as she felt her insides crushed. She had forgotten the picture existed until she found it, and the sudden wave of loss and pain that she knew too well hit her with no mercy, without warning. She could feel the hollow feeling, gnawing in her stomach. Her knees were shaking and the next thing she knew she was down on the floor, gasping for air.

"Breathe, Sofia, breathe. Keep yourself together, you're doing so well, don't. "
She whispered to herself, so faintly she didn't even sure whether she was saying it out loud or only in her mind. A few tears had managed to escape, but she was helpless to stop it. She gave up and finally a sob came out of her mouth while her body shook uncontrollably.

The photo was still in her hand, but she could no longer hold on to it. She threw the photo across the room with every energy she could muster, hoping to never stumble upon it again. It was unfair, she was getting better. Not fine, but better than she used to be after... After it happened. Her heart ache, throbbing painfully it almost audible. She closed her eyes, but she couldn't stop the images that was crystal clear in her head.

It was a picture of a guy, with both of his palms on Sofia's cheek, staring deeply as if he was trying to held her gaze while reading into her soul. The photo was taken during sunset, so the two figures in it was almost like a silhouette. Yet, she could still see the green in his eyes that was so light and the depth that had mesmerized her since the very beginning. The way his jet black hair ruffled by the wind, the heat radiating from his palm throughout every inch of her body, his sweet and warm scent..

No. Enough.

As fast as the sadness come, it was suddenly replaced by hatred. She hated what had happened, she hated to be so powerless over her own feelings, she hated the fact that she couldn't change the situation no matter how hard she tried. But mostly, there was one particular hatred that overpower the other. One, that could never go away.

She hated herself. Yes, Sofia Evelyn Edwards loathed herself. And it was based on one main reason. She could never, ever in a million years, hate Cody Demian Allen.

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Hi there! This is my first attempt on writing stories in english. Please forgive my grammatical errors, and I really hope you guys will stick with me till the very end. Suggestions and critiques are always welcome!

So what do you think happened to Sofia? Who is Cody and what has he done to her? Why was she such a mess?

-M