I sit at my bed, alone and empty, feeling the tears flowing down my cheeks and watching them carelessly tumble to the ground. The image keeps replaying in my mind of my last connection to the past, my last hope of happiness, walking away in the physical form of Jarrah.
He didn't even look back.
I had hoped to feel empowered and lighter, but already I feel doubt creeping into my mind. From this point on, I am alone.
It is absolutely terrifying. Everyone that has protected me and kept me strong throughout all my misfortune--everyone I have loved for the past two years is gone. I feel like a shell washed up against the shore; its resident already moved on as I sit there empty, waiting for someone to return who never will.
I have realized, from everyone and everything that has been taken away from me, that life is [A/N: a box of chocolate] like a complex, delicate, patchwork. When we meet someone and come to love them, their fabric becomes intricately woven to our own and we become more beautiful and stronger than before. And then one day, the simplest of scissors come along and take them away from us. We try to stitch over what we lost and move on, but the scars can never go away.
I'm back to that same square patchwork that I was four years ago. I've lost my family all over again. Only this time? It's my fault.
A soft knock echoes from the door, and I look up in excitement.
"Sorry, it's just me," says Lewis as my face falls.
I quickly wipe my tears away onto my sleeve, and invite her to sit down. She sits there in a comfortable silence, waiting for me to begin.
"She was right, Lew. Marianna was right. He really left; after everything we went through and all we promised each other. I really thought--or rather, hoped-- he would come back. I have nothing to remember him by except the gaping hole in my chest."
Lewis sighs.
"Did you know it all along?" she asks carefully.
"Know what?"
"That he would leave, in the end?"
"I think so," I say slowly, "but like Jim said. I had a life before Jarrah, and I can have one aft--after him," I choke.
"That's a load of bullshit and you know it. This isn't some end of the world, rebirth crap for you, Alice! Nothing's changed, except you've lost someone who wouldn't be loyal to you when it came to it! Hell, we should celebrate. No one to complain about our amazing oatmeal any more!"she smiles awkwardly.
"I know you didn't like him, Lew, but I kind of did," I say sadly, failing to smile at her humour.
"Aww, Cheer up Lissy!"
"Lissy?"
She shrugs. "If I'm gonna be your only friend now, I might as well give you a cute nickname."
"Thanks, Lewis," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Listen, I think you made a great choice. Not gonna lie, you get a point in my books. I mean, what's the point of having him around if he won't stay with you till the end? It wouldn't have ended well anyway, right?"
"Too soon," I mutter.
"For Chrissakes! You're Alice! You're a world-class escapee buttkicker! Most people don't get out of one plantation--but you escape two, AND get out of jail, AND survive a stabbing and you're letting a break-up get you down? This Jarrah guy must really mean a lot to you if this is what it takes to break you!" she exclaims, exasperated.
"Yeah, he does."
"Then why did you let him go?"
"It's just like you said; because he was willing to let me go."
YOU ARE READING
A Game of Colours
Historical FictionBorn to a middle class family in New York City, Alice's life changes forever when she and her family are kidnapped and sold into slavery. She is torn away from everything she loves and only allowed to keep her name. She is forced to work long hours...
