Ocean blue iris's, sunlight poking through the windows, and shock obvious on his face. A hand comes to his mouth and he brings his heartbeat to an irregular pace. His eyes watering, turning into tears, developing into a tsunami of salty water drops, slipping warm and slow down his face. He was shaking rapidly and the amount of shock and love and hope on his face brought a smile to mine.
He came towards me slowly, as if the speed of his legs would make me disappear.Looking at me as a mirage, or worse, something too good to be true. Slowly and gently, he sat next to me and caressed my face and stared at every inch of my body. First my eyes, then my nose and then my lips. He silently and intently stared at my lips as if he were debating weather he should kiss me or not. I answered for him.
It has been twelve months since I have had my sight and the ability to move. The ability to LIVE. I missed Caleb and his sincerity and his love and everything in between. I kissed him passionately and tears shed gently down my face. I remember myself as some ignorant girl who cared so much about her appearance and what others though of her. It was as if, all in this moment, in this spirit-lifting and beautiful kiss, I shed my old self. I am not some little girl who pouts in french and destroys her body when she feels hopeless. Caleb has been there for me when I couldn't be there for him. So now I will be strong for him, and he can cry into my frail shoulders and I will be his backbone. "Don't ever leave me again. You hear me?" he cried into my lips. We breathed as one. " Never again" I promised sobbing.
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I didn't want to ruin the moment, so I just pushed it to the back of my brain as far away as it could go. I tasted the alcohol on his breath. I breathed in the sent of cigarettes on the skin of his neck. Did I push him to this? Was my physical and mental being this past year the cause of this new Caleb? I cant do this I have to ask him. " Caleb, I know I haven't been around. So what's new?" I asked innocently. Partially to get him to spill about his alcohol and smoking problem, but mostly because I want to know what I missed. I want to know how Mom is doing. If my dad ever popped up to find out how his "In-a-coma-daughter" is doing.
He looked at me nervously, as if he had been dreading to say these words. "Your mom is pregnant." My life is spiraling out of control... Once again. I am debating on weather I should be mad or happy.
YOU ARE READING
Call me crazy
Teen FictionAria has just ended her 7th grade year at Smithfeild middle school. With her friends pressuring her into perfection, she feels herself crackling under the pressure. Two weeks into what she thought would have the been the most "Incroyable" summer of...