Forgotten.
Think about that word for a moment.
It means there's no memory left of you.
I am forgotten.
My entire apartment is dark.
I rock on my toes.
Am I going mad?
I want to reach for my phone and call someone, anyone, but I don't.
People knock at the door, they call, but I don't answer.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to accomplish.
Addie sat at my door and cried for about an hour this morning.
I sat against the door on the opposite side from her and stared into the abyss of my room.
The darkness made my eyes hurt.
Or maybe it was my crying.
Just when I thought I couldn't possibly cry anymore, I began again.
My phone blew up.
People begging me to come back to the show, to come back to school, to come anywhere actually.
Blocked number- Charlotte please come back. The show isn't the same without you.
Blocked number-Charlotte mate I'm so sorry. Please just come out of your room. Please come back to us.
Us? Who's us?
There is no more us.
Mitch visits often. So does Darren. I think Addie visits most often.
She cries.
She apologizes.
She tries to start a conversation.
It's not until she starts to sing that she catches my attention.
"Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes..."
The calming voice sings through the door.
I cover my ears.
I don't want to hear it.
I want to yell at her, beg her to stop, but she continues.
"Charlotte?"
I kick the door and put my face in my hands.
"Charlotte?"
She calls again.
I don't move.
"You know I have a key right?"
Of course she does.
"Go away."
I growl.
"Why? Why do you shut me out Charlotte?"
Her voice is slightly muffled from the door.
"Go away."
She continues talking.
I stand up and go into another room.
YOU ARE READING
New York- Where Dreams are Made
General FictionCharlotte Spencer is a small town girl. She dreams her entire life of going to New York. Her life in the town she grew up in isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows. She struggles to make it out of the horrid place and fight her way to the top. S...
