The Rockstar Within Me

The Rock Star Within Me - Chapter 39

Copyright 2013

Two months later.

I can still feel the breeze 

That rustles through the trees

And misty memories of days gone by

We could never see tomorrow

No one said a word about the sorrow

And how can you mend a broken heart?

Michael Buble’s voice crooned across the airwaves as I lay on a small bed, looking up at the cracked ceiling. The same metal rod pushed into my back like it had done every night for the almost two months we had been here. I told myself that today would be the day that I would find a store that sold thicker mattresses or at least a bigger pillow, but the likelihood was that wouldn’t happen. Actually, I would consider it a miracle if I left the small property of the house we rented.

Someone banged on the door.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t even move. Unfortunately, it was obvious that I was in there with the sound of my radio undoubtedly travelling through the paper-thin walls.

“Alice?” Drew’s voice called out as he opened the door slowly.

I groaned, knowing it would be him all along that eventually came to get me from my fortress of solitude. 

Drew walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains; letting the hot Spanish light into the room.

I yelled out and covered my eyes quickly, preferring the darkness and quietness that was my room only moments ago.

“It’s nearly noon. You need to get out of bed.” Drew informed me, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at me scolding like a parent would with their child.

I grumbled, sitting up. My hair was already plastered to the back of my neck from the heat and I reached for the hair elastic that I had tossed on the floor earlier that night. Piling my mess of brown hair on top of my head, I looked up at Drew with a displeased face.

He had made it a habit to wake me up everyday over the last few weeks. He had definitely turned into the parental figure after I had nearly given up on myself.

The first couple of days since we had left Paris I stopped doing any form of a regular routine. I had forgotten about make up, not that I had any, forgotten about brushing my hair, forgotten about eating etc. If it weren’t for the freaking heat, I would have likely given up showering too. Although I did realize fairly quickly that the shower was the best place to cry because the sound of the water drowned out my tears most of the time.

“Do you want something to eat? I’ll make you some toast-” Drew offered before I cut him off.

“Stop babying me. I can make it myself.” I muttered getting up and walking past him to get to the kitchen. 

Don’t get me wrong; I was forever grateful for Drew and everything he had done.

When we had stood in front of the Paris airport, I realized I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to go back to my old life when I knew so much had changed. One anxious look at Drew and he nodded. Without a question or a complaint Drew booked us two one-way tickets on the first plane to leave which just so happened to be headed for Spain.

Neither of us had been to Spain; we knew nothing of the culture, spoke little to no Spanish, and had very limited amount of money. But we did it anyway.

“I want to disappear in Spain.” I told Drew when we stood uncertain in the Barcelona train station.It became too apparent to me someone might recognize us. Though a few days before then I would have been very flattered; now, it was just a constant reminder of a lie I lived.