Songs About Jane

Chapter 1- Must Get Out

'Forever can never be long enough for me...' 

Pat sings as I listen to 'Marry Me' by Train from my phone on the bus ride home from work. I stare out the window as countless cars stream by, always in a hurry, always racing towards their destination. Always knowing where they're going. For once, I'd like to get out of this hell and just drive away, not knowing where I'm going. But maybe that's absurd, not knowing; it means you can only fall down and get broken. And I had already been broken enough. 

The city bus screeches to a halt, and a handful of people rush off, and even more climb on. The bus chugs forward once again. I bite my lip as a man with thick-rimmed glasses and a briefcase bumps into me as he sits down in the empty seat next to me. 

"S-sorry," he splutters and I give him a little nod and rub my throbbing arm. Geez, get some new glasses so you can see where you're going! I think to myself. 

My phone buzzes and I grumble as I fish it out of my jacket pocket. I open the text I just received from my best friend, Selena. It says: 

Hey gurlayyy! What's the plan 4 2nite, Jane??? 

I reply: 

Idk. Is Kelsey coming? 

She replies: 

Maybe. 

Fine. How about a girl's night? I ask. 

Sounds like a plan! She answers. 

Kelsey's my other best friend. We had plans for tonight for a girls night out, but the last thing I wanted to do right now was go out and party. But I was doing it for them, but it might just be Selena and I since Kelsey is almost always busy with her boyfriend Graham these days. Selena is single and ready to mingle (her words, not mine), whereas I am not even close. My heart's still broken, and sometimes I wonder if it'll ever fix. 

*** 

Eleven months have passed (it's approaching a year now) since my bitter and sudden split with my ex, Zach. We had gone out for over two years, and I thought he was the one. Until one day, when we had gotten into the biggest fight of our lives. We fought often, but it was mostly little bickering sessions. But occasionally we'd have a big blowout, and that dreadful day was one of them. He had always been extremely jealous of any boy within a ten mile radius, even though I wasn't interested. That day, a guy friend of mine had dropped me off at my little townhouse after my friends and I had met up at Starbucks that afternoon and I had gotten a flat tire. After I got out and thanked Mike and he drove off, I had strolled across my lawn when I noticed his car parked on the side of the road next to my house. I walked over as he got out of his new Chevy pickup, slamming the door behind him. 

"What were you doing with him!?" He questioned angrily. 

" I-I was, I mean-" I shuttered, fearful of his tone. 

"What were you doing with him?!" He seethed. 

"Zach, baby, it's not what you think-" 

"BABY!? YOU THINK YOU CAN COME BACK TO ME AN CALL ME BABY, AFTER WHAT YOU JUST DID WITH THAT SON OF A-" 

"NO!" I cry. He glares at me, and I swear there was steam coming out of his ears and nostrils. If I wasn't scared to death then, it might have been rather comical. I continue, "Don't do this. You know I would never, ever, cheat on you."  

He huffs and stares down at the grass. "Oh yeah? Then why was he feeling you up?" 

My jaw drops. "Mike was giving me a hug! He would never do that, nor would I let him! We're just friends!" My mind is hazy from the anger, fear, and frustration coursing through me, that I don't think through my next words, and my biggest mistake is made. "Don't make up things that aren't true!" I shout. I cover my mouth in realization of my stupid words. 

"What did you just say to me?" He hisses. 

I gulp. "I-" 

"Are you calling me a LIAR!!?" He shouts, his voice raising. 

" N-no, no-" I stammer as I try to form coherent words, my heart rising into my throat as fear envelopes me. 

"Because that's EXACTLY what YOU ARE, YOU B-" 

I don't hear the rest of what he says completely. But I know it wasn't exactly rainbows and lollipops. My eyes widen as I notice something propelling toward me- WHAM!!! his hand slams into me and I'm knocked onto the grassy ground. He continues to kick me and punch me, and I try to fight back, but he only hits me again. A few more blows, and I know I'll be out, but there's nothing I can do. 

"WHAT THE F-" and a choice word was used there, "WERE YOU THINKING!? YOU'RE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SH-" another one used, and he continues on and on, beating down on my body and my spirit. I was crushed by him, and I knew from that moment on that I'd never recover. 

Right before I blacked out, I sent up a prayer, a plea: Keep me safe. Help me to find strength and hope in this darkest hour. The last thing that crossed my mind, and I have absolutely no idea why, was a line from my favorite song, his voice smooth and soothing: And she will be loved... 

Then the world faded into darkness. 

*** 

I had woken up in a hospital bed to learn that a neighbor had called the police about the fight, and Zach had been taken into custody. His trial was to be held the next month. I had been badly bruised and unconscious, so they put me in an ambulance and rushed me to the hospital. I had asked who the neighbor was so I could personally thank them, but no one knew who it was. It made me frustrated because someone saved my life and I didn't even know who it was.  

Friends and family and loved ones were very supportive, sending cards and flowers and coming for visits. My father had stayed with me every night in the hospital, holding my hand and willing me to recover, and he was there to help me when I woke screaming from the nightmares that relived that moment. He told me countless times that I was strong just like my mother, who had died in a car accident when I was five. The worst part of is was that I had been in the back, and I had lived. It wasn't fair, and I had always held that against me, like it was my fault that she died. Sometimes I wished that I had been the one who had been killed instead, which I know is a morbid thought, but I loved my mother to the moon and back, and inside and out she was better that I could ever be. I wish she was still with us; she always had such purpose and a sense of fearlessness that I had always desired. She was a singer and songwriter, just like me, and her music was so beautiful and thoughtful. I had decided since I was small that I would be just like Mommy and that I'd make her proud. Now, it's more of my way to keep her voice alive, as well as a way to speak mine. 

But no matter how many hugs and roses and well wishes I received, I still felt empty; a hole in my heart that couldn't be filled. I was broken and forced to go to therapy sessions the next few months, and that helped, but it certainly didn't fill that emptiness I still felt. Selena had suggested that maybe it was a sense of want and loneliness that I still held onto in my post-Zach life. Sure, I missed the old him, but I knew I could never be happy or safe with a man that abused me. But that didn't seem to be it. It seemed to be some other sort of loneliness and longing, but I wasn't sure what. And I had no clue if and how I'd find it.