bleeding out.

ii.

“When you love someone, you are scared of getting hurt. And you will.”

-Brandon Scott Gorrell

chapter three;

Jane's Point of View.

I could feel my chest tighten and my throat closing in. A feeling of apprehension dispersed through my veins as I rubbed my moistened palms against the roughly-textured fabrics of my skirt. My heart rate jumped to uneven pace. I took a peek at his ceaseless emerald gaze, and the feeling of disarray presented itself while his eyes bore into mine.

“I'm sorry,” I attempted to whisper, but instead it came out as a cracked vocalization. “May we leave now?” His stare lingered a few seconds more, then his head slowly moved up and down in a nod.

We shook off the dust-covered blanket and started to make our way toward the stall's exit. Hay crunched beneath our feet, but the sound was dampened by the voices of our company.

My mind was racing at the idea of us moving so far away. Had anyone known? Surely Harry would understand. He would have to, because I couldn’t go along much longer keeping this secret in. I would tell him tonight.

The door cringed as we pressed our hands against the wood, so we picked up our pace to return to the house. I had a thought push its way in my head, and before I could think of the right placements of speech, the words tumbled out.

“Could we maybe, um, go somewhere else tonight? I don't want to be home alone with them.” My stare focused on my parents as I spoke. I bit my lip and my interest was suddenly taking me anywhere but Harry's face.

“Of course,” he uttered with short breath. “My family has a keen interest in you, Jane Ellis.”

I smiled a little to myself at the thought of not being alone tonight. My happiness was cut short by the slamming of a door, I jerked up and directly spun around. Harry chuckled at my abruptness, then noticed the source. My father was coming in our direction with his eyes locked on his shoes. He went off mumbling incoherent sentences, and then back towards the barn calling my mother's name. They spoke about dinner and finances for a few moments, but then they trailed into the subject of slavery. This is when I knew I had to take Harry out of any area that could be used for unintended eavesdropping in that demanding moment, because if anyone was to tell him our views and secluded information on the topic, it would be me.

I tried to divert his attention by poking his dimple and doing my best at creating an expression of impatience, as if saying “Hurry up.” He seemed to get the hint, and shook his head engrossing his eyes in mine while making up a small grin.

He pushed a curl of hair behind my ear before saying, “Always so eager. Alright, alright. Come on.”

We started on the short trip to the house I had grown to love. So many things had happened there. I remember my first time performing pranks at the peak of the moon with my trusted comrade. We had done things from cutting locks of hair off of his brother, Philip, to letting pigs roam house when there were parties being held. It then hit me that I would no longer spend my nights staying up and talking to a man who could make me laugh more than the sun could shine.

Harry seemed to notice my shaken up state and looked over with a gloomy countenance engulfing his face.

He brushed my cheek before softly saying, “You'll be okay. I'll miss you, and we'll both have to become accustomed to the feeling of losing each other for quite some time, but you'll be okay. We'll be okay.”

His arms draped around mine and gave me a comforting embrace as we arrived at the steps of the household that had served me through my years. The words Harry had spoke moments ago rung throughout my head and I somehow knew I would never forget them.