I live for her

Chapter 11: Operation: Death By Chocolate

♘ Leroy

My soul is heavy with pain, guilt, betrayal and confusion - I can feel the feelings weigh down my bones and instinctively my exhausted body fell to the couch.

I laid there trying to use a dysfunctional brain to process the events. But all I succeeded at was listening to the intro of "How I met your mother" and laughing hysterically at the only thought my brain could provide: talking walls... I seriously thought the walls were talking.

I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't want to know what I was feeling. I just wanted to know what she was killing. I wanted to know what she was feeling. I wanted to know if any of this had meaning.

I wanted to say I fucking hated her because even if I was lying to myself - I knew the phrase will exit my oral cavity with these feelings causing my mental calamity.

I wanted to say I hated her because saying the opposite only meant more pain. And by opposite I mean romantic feelings - not "love".

I didn't know what to do - I really didn't. She had actually fucked up everything. It was like a building she and I had invested our time into building had just crumbled - from the bottom; trust - was the foundation.

I fight off the urge to educate you on how sacred and valuable an introvert's trust is. Let me put it this way, it took her significantly more time to establish the foundation of our building than it did to construct the actual skyscraper.

I was trying my utmost best to disregard her, I searched for something to emotionally eat but I forgot the fridge was empty. You know, the most fucked up part of the situation - I can't tell anyone. I can't tell Max because judgement flows through his veins. I can't tell my mum because audible phrases and clauses don't exit her mouth. All that she could muster were murmurs and then tears when I'd say that I could not hear her - the last time we were in the same room.

I... stared at the burger king bag, heard my stomach grumble after I dumped it in the bin. It felt like a black hole had been birthed in my stomach. But let's be real, there are no stars in me, to say I even have one and it's currently dying is a mere fantasy. All I am... is black inside: a galaxy void of stars. It's just stomach acid doing its thing by eating up my stomach's lining... Due to the absence of mucin - and the only person worthy of my musing. Now the sun of my galaxy, the only colorful mass keeping my dark organs in orbit - my heart. She's turning black too: black holes... black hearts... dying galaxies... Death... Death... Death by chocolate?

I plopped myself onto my bicycle - do knights and greenhouses react like this?

I found myself scanning the streets for signs of her... I stopped myself - why do I care about the building? Why do I call it a skyscraper? I mean... some things... are meant to be left in ruins... aren't they?

My stomach reminds me of its dying. I push the thoughts away like a plate of greens that I am unfamiliar with. I prefer gorging on diabetes in chocolate form. My favorite descent was near and I cycled faster and faster so that I could glide down the tarred earth with no hands on the handle bars screaming: "Operation: Death By Chocolate". I yelled it until a bug dashed into my mouth. (Mother Nature was not pleased, I guess.).

I stopped by my favorite ice cream shop. John, the owner, asks of her. I tell him she's busy and I just needed some alone time. He smiles and nods saying that he understands that girls can be a handful sometimes. I smile back. As I watched him scoop up the dark chocolate, the rocky road and cookies and cream ice cream spheres I begged my eyes to keep away from the bubblegum flavored ice cream because they were her favorite. I pleaded because my optical nerves have a tendency to be disobedient and functioned according to their own will. As he handed me the ice cream John said, "You alright, kid?"  

I grab the sugary cone and lie. "Yup, just tired."

Strolling through the streets, I notice the autumn leaves. I've always been fascinated by autumn leaves. There's beauty in autumn. As my shoes crunched them up, the leaves - red, yellow, green and all the colors in between - I recalled what my English teacher said as we analysed a poem. "It's a metaphor for change: out with the old, in with the new. It's the trees preparing for death: it's winter."

Death... winter... death. The word "death" grips my soul and injects the blue fabric lining my soul - void of stars - with fear. Fear for my mother. I don't notice as the three scoops plummet towards the ground. I just feel the stiffness and ache in my knee caps as I dash towards my bike. I start peddling towards the hospital where she was admitted to. My muscles start to tire and Oxygen starts to deplete but I keep my eyes awake and unfazed, and I kept racing towards the white building - because death... is final.

The doors separate as the sensors pick up the presence of my worn out blue shoes' soles. The smell of sterilization invades my nasal cavity and sparks the fertilization of the anxieties that fatigue had successfully suppressed as I made my way here. I start to search... for my Oxygen and mount my body on the nearest metallic chair.

A/N: Thanks a lot guys for the love, wow, I sincerely thought this book was hopeless but the reads picked up slightly so, it means a lot to me. The motivation... The comments... The votes... The hearts... The private messages - they mean a lot ❤️

Ahh, so, yeah, Leroy is going to visit his mum, you think he'd break down? Heck, do you think she's gonna break down? Or wait... Wait...is she even alive 😱

And... What about Emily?

Choo-choo 🚉
As always, thanks so much guys for everything I appreciate it. Tell me what you thought about this chapter if you've got some constructive criticism to spare.
And as always - the next station 😉 🚉