Can I Continue...

Happy Endings?

Lucy's PoV

Screams fills the air. I can't breath. With a start, I realise it's my own. The hysterical note in my voice won't go. My eyes are closed, screwed tightly shut. Fat tears managed to leak down my face. The razor lay abandoned on the edge of the bath, and Joe's hands had become shackles around my wrists. The heavy pulse seemed to taunt me, proving I am too weak. Pants mixed with the sobs stole through my mouth. Gasp after gasp, my lung forcing themselves to work against my will. My stomach rumbled and a dizzy spell washed over me like the ocean viciously batters against rocks far out at sea.

One minute I was opening Sam's heavy door, laughing at his stupid attempts to get me smiling - needless to say it was working. He was on the other side, and a flood gate of memories surfaced.

A new place, a new dance. A new salute, a new hair piece. A new partner, a new car. Shiny Jewels on the new dress. Royal blue and red.

I gasped as a new one came.

The tiles I was slouched on were cold, and hard. Tears stung my eyes and cut train tracks down my cheeks. 

They weren't the only thing cut. The stinging of my eyes was nothing in comparison to the sting of my heart at the weakened body of my best friend. Blood covered my hands and the sickly sweet smell invaded my nostrils as I tried to help him.

His hooded eyes kept closing but he needed to stay awake. Blood was gushing out a new wound, no matter how much I attempted to stop it.

The worst part? He didn't even mean to. He fell off his bunk bed,onto a box, fracturing his arm and having to have a rib taped up. Injuries he told me were getting better, leading me to believe he was healing.

I thought it was a metaphorical scratch.

And then boxing class damaged the rib further.
But he refused the medication, the early leave home, the extra bandages and even my ride back.
I was told he was fine.

Meds were ignored, pain was hidden and lies were built.
And now he's on the floor.

Like a tap that was stuck on a steady flow of water, the memories were relentless, pounding through my head in unnecessarily damaging waves.

"Morning mom," I smiled sheepishly at Joe's mum, taking a brownie despite not having breakfast. Nothing could stop the nutty chocolate treat explosion thst captured my taste buds. 

She smiled. Having exploited my sweet tooth to one treat, my brain was in demand of more. It seemed my luck was in light for she was on a cooking spree, something she always did just before her brother went back out to war.

I was stuffing my face with cookies when Joe returned from his two day scout retreat.

He hoped up on the second bar stool on the island and snatched a cupcake with his grubby hands. The smell of dirt and uncleanliness made me smile; so did the unmissable grin on his face.

His smiled dropped as and when he realised what the baking ment.

"Uncle Jay's going back?" His eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and I felt a sudden want - no, need - to protect him from it.

His mum, on a totally different wavelength to me, was nodding solemnly. Despite the fact we are only nine, she treated us as if we were much older.