Don't Leave

Chapter 18

It's been 2 and a half months since Lucian left town. It's been 2 and a half months since I've spoken to anyone besides Cecelia. It's been 2 and a half months ago that my heart broke.

I was sitting in front of the window in my bedroom, watching the rain streak down the windows when Cecelia came in holding a wrapped box. I listened to the soft thuds of her socked feet approach my chair and stand beside me. I could feel her looking at me before she sighed quietly and placed the box in my lap. "Here," she said, her voice rough and scratchy. "I got you something." She told me before she left my room, shutting the door tightly behind her; just as I liked it. I looked down at the box. It was wrapped in a deep brown paper, my name written nearly in black ink on the centre. I sighed before I slowly unwrapped the box, tossing the paper on the floor beside me. I furrowed my eyebrows as to what was inside. A journal. A brown, leather, thick journal. I tossed the box aside, not interested in writing my feelings down in some stupid journal. I wiped my eyes, not realizing I was crying. I brung my hands to my face and sobbed into the quietly.

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September 24
It's been 3 months since he left. I haven't left my room in weeks. I barely eat, I only eat when Cecelia makes something for me and brings it to the door; or if I'm on the mood. I sit here on my cushioned chair, watching the wind in the trees and the rain drop down the windows. I don't know what to do anymore. I want him here. Yet, I wish he would never come back.

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Cecilia knocked on my door one day in October. She pushed open the door swiftly and approached me, giving me a bowl of soup before speaking, "I called someone." I barely heard her, the wind had died down and I had to strain my ears to hear her. I lifted my head to see her, the muscles straining and aching as I did so. "Excuse me?" I questioned. This was the first time I had spoken in months. My voice came out croaky and it felt like glass was ripping down my neck tendons. She raised her eyebrows, she must have not expected me to reply or question her. She nodded. "I called someone for you." She looked out the window now, away from me. "I was on the waiting list for a long time but," she looked over at me, her hand brushing mine. "They finally called me back today and told me they were ready for you." She smiled a little as she took my hand in hers. She knelt down beside my chair, she looked almost as bad as I did. Her hair was frizzy, her skin was grey, her eyes were puffy from crying. My heart sank more, I had done that to her. I made her like that. I looked away before she started talking again in a shaky voice. "I've been so worried Cecilio." She shook her head. "You haven't been eating and I'm trying my best but it feels like it's not enough. I avoid seeing you because I'm afraid that one day I'll come in here and...." She trailed off, looking at me with sad eyes. "And see you dead." Now I looked at her. She thinks I'm going to kill myself? I mean, I've thought about it once or twice but it was never more than a thought. I gripped her hand with all the strength I could muster. "I'm not leaving. I'm always by your side." I nodded before dropping my hand into my lap and staring back out the window.