Jigsaw (NaNoWriMo13)

Fifteen

Jeez, I am so stressed, trying to get this completed by the 8th December. Hopefully I can do it! As usual. vote, comment, fan, share if you liked. I always welcome constructive criticism! Thanks everyone for the feedback, you are all amazing!

Evan knocks on my door ten times over two days. On the third day, he tries shouting through the letterbox, voice hoarse. On the fourth day, he posts notes through my door, begging me to talk to him. I stop going to the café. I ignore his calls, and I delete his texts. It kills me inside every desperate, pain filled voice mail that he leaves, but I have to do it. It's for his own safety.

On the fifth day, he stops calling round.

I don't know whether to be happy or hurt about that. This is what I wanted. I have to tell myself. I distanced myself from him for a reason. He will be safe now. This person, whoever that may be, are out to get me, and I know that they will have no qualms about hurting Evan to get at me. So I try to pretend like Evan never existed. But I still have his jumper. I have taken to taking it to bed with me, wrapping it around me and imagining myself in Evans arms.

I know it is unhealthy, but I can't help it. I can't stop it. I miss Evan so much that I just want to run, find him and throw myself into his arms. Oh, to feel his touch again, even for a second. I push away my pain and lay my head on the cold wooden table. I didn't think it would be this hard.

I have to repeatedly remind myself that I’m doing this for Evan. But it always comes back to the same thing each time. I can't live without him. And no matter how hard I try, I just can't move on. But I have to try. I owe it to Evan to keep him safe. No matter what it takes.

Why does it cause me so much pain if it's the right thing?

I need a drink. I decide as the thoughts become all too much. There's nothing like neat vodka to drown out my thoughts. Yes, that's exactly what I need. I get to my feet and shuffle across the room in my slippers. I shove them off and slip into my old, shabby trainers. I don't even bother to take off my pyjamas. Pink spotty ones with a sheep motif. Classy.

I wrap myself in the folds of Evans coat. As I leave the door, another threatening message has been scrawled. This time on the wall opposite me. The people in the flats have noticed, I can hear their whispers as I venture from the warmth of my flat to dump the accumulated rubbish sacks. I can see the curious glances. The way they shrink away from me as if I will contaminate them with my freakishness. I never came here to make friends anyway. I came her to escape my past. It's kind of ironic, that I actually just ran headlong into it.

People stare at me as I shuffle round the corner in my pyjamas. My shoes are coming apart at the soles, and Evans jacket swamps me. I know I must look a sight, but I honestly don't care anymore. I don't care about anything. Except for Evan. Always Evan. This is why I'm doing this.

The small square of shops is teeming with kids, who all seem to congregate around the flowerbed in the middle of the car park. The flowers have long died, leaving nothing but dead, brown buds, but they don't care. They only hang out there to get adults to buy them alcohol anyway.

On this small square, there are a grand total of four shops. The rest have been shut down, or let fall into a state of disrepair, the owners having long since upped sticks and left. There is a Chinese takeaway, a chip shop, and tucked in between the laundrette and chip shop is the all night market. I ignore the smells of sweet and sour, mingled with the hint of weed that drifts over from the kids.

The kids jeer and swear at me, but I ignore them as I step into the little shop. The bell tinkles overhead, making my hair stand on end. The strong scent of garlic burns my nose and I have to hold my breath. This shop is really filthy. But I don't really care as I approach the counter, money already in my hand.