Dead Girls & A Broken Heart ***EDITING MAJORLY***

Dead Girls & A Broken Heart - Chp 4

When you are in trouble, people who call to sympathize are really looking for the particulars. -- Edgar Watson Howe, Country Town Sayings, 1911

Monday.

Usually I’d groan any Monday but this was more a groan with a kicking and screaming and a nausea stomach. Inside I was protesting with every inch of my body, yet on the outside I was trying to pull off sanity.

I just couldn’t get the images out of my head, I’d sleep they’d haunt me, I was awake they haunted me. Haunted.

James’s calls pulled me back to the surface at the kitchens bar “Want a lift?” he asked again watching me. I glanced at his jeans and his tip and instantly knew he was off to university today and not work.

James was nineteen and I seventeen, coupled with school and university fees it got rough at times financially let alone emotionally. Although there were scholarships and support funds available for us we used for support. Our parents died when James was eighteen meaning he was of legal age to look after us without us being taken into foster care or adoption, we had no other family members to fall back onto as both our parents were only children and our grandparents were also dead. So it was just James and I; independent and alone. Course we had family friends; especially Gabs family, but we’d grown accustomed to life now and we’ve found our feet. We were forced into total independence just a little too soon. Due to restriction of money James and I both worked. I worked at some hip teen café whilst James worked at the local music shop whenever university wasn’t on his agenda.

James blinked at me expectantly with those brown eyes just like mums, its warmth and softness about as similar as his wavy caramel brown hair, that I noted was in need for a trim. James was built and muscled due to him playing football and yet he was the sweetest guy I knew. Underneath that tough exterior he was the sweetest guy possible and he was protective, so protective. Family had always come first to him, no matter what or when.

“Yeah, thanks.” I said finally sliding off the stool and walking to his side as he stood in the doorway. “You need a haircut.” I said pulling on a strand gently, smiling lightly.

He looked down at me in amusement, his height towering over me, like everyone else. I was tiny, size and height and next to anyone I felt small. I noted he wasn’t as tall though as that boy. My mind pulling me back for the hundredth time to him again, all weekend my mind went back to him. It was like a security blanket, to think of him I was distracted and I spent my days thinking about him and asking the simple questions like how old was he? Did he go to our school? Why was he at the station? And sadly, did he have a girlfriend?

James smiled “I know, I just keep forgetting.” He said walking down the outside steps and onto the pebble driveway our feet crunching as we walked to the car.

Our house was a cute simple little dark brick home that had a beautiful garden, thanks to mum, the huge green hedge that surrounded it gave us our much needed privacy and the cute little rocking chair on the verandah was great for clear skied nights or sunny days. The big oak tree out front gave us huge shade and more privacy, it made it feel homey and all beautiful coupled with its beautiful garden. Inside was all homey and lived in, James and I hadn’t changed anything inside or outside. It had mum and dad’s room, both of our own, two bathrooms (one upstairs and downstairs) and a kitchen and lounge room, and an office.

Getting inside the car I looked at home longing for my bed, but instead I buckled myself in and braced myself.

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Chatter in the car was casual and almost natural yet the butterflies in my stomach swamped me making it impossible for me to compose myself completely.