Deflowered

Chapter 14

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust,
and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply,
and the night sky is no home,
and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent;

but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again.- Finn Butler

Three weeks had passed in a blur. I felt bone tired and weak, but refused to stay in bed. I woke up worse from my dreams and insomnia became my problem. Mason sat on one of the couches with his laptop glancing up with a stern glare every time I switched the channel to a news station. Elizabeth had been my guard the night before but she filled my time with conversation about her garden.

I tightened the blanket around my legs as I channel surfed. I'd found comfort in anything mind numbing. Two nights ago it had been a reality dating show filled with so much drama, I forgot about mine even if only for a couple minutes.

The news began to refer to me as the cursed Widow. Almost everyone I've loved has passed away. One of the parishioners of my hometown church gave an interview stating she saw me in the woods one day with candles and rose petals chanting. She said I cursed my family. That time, almost forgotten, a childhood memory of two girls exercising their youth and naivety. We were 10 and Angela had become obsessed with the show Charmed convincing most of us we could practice magic and conjure up amazing gifts. Magazines had even printed spells and rituals for the things you were currently seeking. Two ten year olds holding candles like they were precious jewels because we were afraid of the bad magic if we didn't.  Our rose petals in Lisa Frank pencil cases hung from our backpacks hitting the back of my legs as we trudged through mud from rain the night before. She scattered the petals and dotted six with a drop of wax while repeating words I thought came from Harry Potter.

"Now wish for something. You have to think about it really hard."

I closed my eyes and wished I'd never be alone. The opposite came true. Maybe that's what happened. I asked for too much.

"Amelia, try and sleep. You have to be exhausted." Mason said moving his laptop aside and sitting up. "Would a walk help?"

I nodded because I couldn't think of an excuse not to go. The limbo of my life felt like a weight on my chest and a prickling on my skin. When I had no distractions, the effect was unbearable and my entire body buzzed with anxiety.

The moon, muted by a wall of clouds, hung heavy that night. Mason walked ahead of me in a jacket and jeans. The air was brisk because of the time and our breaths crystallized in the darkness.

"You would tell me if you were struggling?" He said quietly after clearing his throat.

"I am struggling." I replied as we crossed the entrance into Elizabeth's rose garden.

"I mean more than that, if you felt like you couldn't be here anymore." His tone was worried and a little desperate.

"I do feel that way that sometimes but I sleep and I wake up." I felt my throat tighten as I continued. "But. Every time I have lost someone, I think I'm going to break. When I lost my parents, I thought I couldn't go on. I did. When Mawmaw passed, I thought I would break. I didn't. With Adam, as much as I hurt and as unbearable as days seem, I still get up. Each day I think I'll finally shatter into a million pieces." He sat on a bench and I lowered myself next to him.

"But I don't." I whisper quietly, my voice filled with a mixture of shame and resignation.

His face shadowed in the darkness, showed the stress of the past two weeks. There were lines where there had been none and a new expression of weariness I'd never seen before, a man carrying a weight. A burden. I suddenly realized it was probably me. He'd picked me up off the floor the night before where I lay sobbing and panicked, my hands scurrying across the carpet. The diamond from earrings Adam had bought me had fallen and it felt like I'd lose every memory of him if I couldn't find it. Mason had spent two hours combing their entire west wing of the home after I'm certain he slipped a sleeping pill in my tea. I laid my hand on his, similar to the way we did in church all those weeks ago.