Painful Thoughts of The Hidden One (The Broken One Series #0.2)

I Don't Cry Sky.

( 4:56 pm. December 27, 2013 )

    Tidal waves. Tsunamis. Hurricanes. Crashing and whirling, throttling and falling. Boom. Boom. Boom. Tossing and turning, and falling and breaking. Arms flailing, chest throbbing, throat full of screams, eyes flooding like a broken dam.
I thrashed and pounded, against the floor, dents in the mattress, holes in the wall. Punching and screaming were the only thing that could release the tension and all the pain. And of course tears. Rivers and oceans of tears.
I let out my tears that night like a tsunami. I slammed my door and stomped towards my bed, fell against my pillows, and held on for dear life as the screams, sobs, and ever flowing tears came through. I should've cried for days. Weeks. Months. Years.
But I had my tight little grip to my bed. And I cried for a night. And then I wiped them away like it never happened. I hid my little scene, my little heart shatter, and picked up my pieces. I patched up the holes, the dents, the shatters in the wake of my storm.
And went on like us never happen. Like before. Before I fell.

He didn't matter anymore. Nothing did. I was empty. A tiny ghost in a big world, trudging along invisibly.
Mommy and daddy didn't notice a thing. Mom was busy. Busy. That's what she called it. And dad was high as a kite. Or what he liked to call, happy.
So it was me. Alone again. To go through my meaningless life. Like before. Except this time my heart was empty. A hole that I couldn't patch up. And without it I wasn't sure what to do.

I saw him. And he saw me. We stared and then we walked away. Observing what our ignored little battle had resulted in.
It wasn't my first night of tears. I was spotless. Clean as always with a pristine fake smile etched on my face.
He, on the other hand, was a wreck. He was still gorgeous, as always, but his baby blue eyes were dim and his hair tousled. From head to toe, dirt, cuts, and bruises covered his skin. A mere lazy sweatshirt thrown on to hide them. Anyone who passed by wouldn't notice. But I observed him stronger than I ever had before.
He always was dirty and battered and bruised. He blamed sports. And tripping. And wrestling with his buddies. And I always believed him. But he was so broken this time. And as the months passed by it never got better.

It hurt to see him hurt. One thing I couldn't ignore. But I had to.

There was a time after it all.
After the big break.
The big boom.

But that's for another day.
He said one thing to me when I first saw him. When I couldn't help the water in my eyes.

" I can't see you cry Dee- "

" It's DUH-LIE-LAH. "

" ... "

" You're in luck. "

" ... "

" I don't cry Sky. "

Love,
Delilah.