Written With Newspaper

The chilly air nipped at my skin harshly, leaving my face rock hard and my hands cold with evidence of chapping. I smiled to myself, feeling the intimidating weather slither it's way into my right ear and nest in the warmth of it. I didn't mind however, it allowed my mind to be rinsed and emptied my soul. It was the only time I had to live, time to breathe, time to consider possible options.

Struggling, I un-tightened the scarf clinging oh-so-dearly to the heat of my neck, creating breathing difficulties for me and allowed it to lay loosely around my chest. Freeing the tangled hair which was caught in my scarf, I shook my head viciously, forcing the loose long strands of string-like material of which were attached to my head to sleep peacefully on my back.

Things only seemed to get harder. The world spun in a ferocious circle, dizziness overwhelming my mind. As much as I wanted to lay down silently, I knew this option wasn't possible. It had to be done and it had to be done now, before I agreed to allow myself to have a change of mind.

A couple of hours earlier, I had sped out of my place of sleep without so much as a goodbye to my guardian. I suppose I should have been grateful, she didn't have to give me a place to rest my confused head and a place to feed my rumbling stomach. She wasn't obliged to. She decided to, supposedly because she cared for me, and right now, I was returning her love and generosity for the opposite. I opposed her at times, hated even. I had often blamed her for the misfortune of my family, knowing completely well that it was not her fault in the slightest form.

You could tell she was ill, she wasn't correct in her body by the way her wrinkles sat freely on her face. And the way she allowed them to. Often, you'd be able to see her hair gently flutter out, without her so much as noticing, and lying silently on her back, resting there peacefully content.

The way she had walked had rapidly decreased in progress. The way her limbs weren't strong and healthily attached at her joints but instead, they were weak and struggled at times to remain in their sockets. Sometimes, her bones would forget to be strong and they would crumble, ever so lightly, not enough to cause her pain but enough that it was noticeable.

I was a harsh, harsh teenager for not helping her out after all the things she had done for me. After all the opportunities that she had allowed me to have. After all the once before darkened paths she had cleared and shone light on, I should have been there to do the exact same thing. I should have been there to pull the dull hair from her weakened scalp off of her back. But I wasn't. I should have repaid her everything she had offered me and more. I should have seen her as a mother. But why didn't I?

When my boyfriend dumped me, I guess that's when our relationship had started to deteriorate. The more she held onto me in support, the more I drifted away. In no form am I claiming that it is his fault, but he did contribute a huge amount towards it. I remember the words vividly. They are hard to forget.

"I fell out of love with you."

Like that, simply and easily, the words had purposefully left his dirty mouth. They shrieked in my ears and the repeat of them pierced through my mind, ringing and calling me again and again, forcing me to remember the ever so painful feeling of my heart being ripped. This feeling was even harder to forget.

"Sorry what?"

I had assured myself that I had heard wrong or that it must of been some sick, diseased joke. The words that I had allowed myself to speak were pathetically inexpressive, but my mind was so closed to the fact of what he had just said might of been true and I couldn't face that - they were the only words my brain allowed access too.

"I don't love you anymore. I have never really loved you... Maybe. I don't know, all I know is that I do not love you anymore. My heart lies elsewhere."