Teardrops

Chapter 20: Why Are You Sorry?

Chapter 20

Shelly's POV

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I came to, shocked at the darkness in the room.

Is it nighttime already?

The next thing I became aware of was how warm my left hand was, and a heavy object on my arm. I smiled into the darkness when I realized it was Donny, he was holding my hand and had fallen asleep on me. How cute.

He let go...

He didn't mean it, look, there he is all curled up and asleep by my side, clutching to my hand.

Why are you so naïve?

Why are you so mean?

A sudden rustling sound made me freeze up, and Donny mumbled sleepily, "Shelly, you awake?" he lifted his head and looked up at me, squinting in the dark.

"Uh-huh."

"Why are you sorry?" he mumbled, shifting position and gazing bleakly at me, still clinging to my hand with both of his.

"Uh. What?"

"You said it when you were passed out. That you were sorry for being you." His head slowly sunk back down to the bed beside my arm.

"You're not going to remember this in the morning, you know."

"Tell me anyways. Please."

"Its nothing." I said, promising myself that if he asked me again right then that I would answer him, truthfully.

But instead I heard a soft snore.

And so I was left wondering why I was so sad that he didn't stay awake to ask me just one more time. Long enough to listen to me pour out my regretful heart, and then still fall asleep beside me like the cute little loyal boy he was.

Because part of me isn't sure he would've stayed.

And that part of me doesn't want him to be there unless he truly knows me.

Is it selfish? Is it vain? Can all humanity really think the same?

Is it wrong to feel so right, even in the dead of night?

Is it weird is it strange, to be afraid of being loved,

To be terrified of what we truly need,

Afraid we're acting out of greed,

Willing to sacrifice all that keeps us tied to life,

But afraid to ask for anything in return,

Not wanting to be a burden

Not wanting to truly be alone

Not wanting to be on our own.

It was so surreal, living like this. Wasn't it just night a few minutes ago? Wasn't I just singing to the moon? Wasn't I just reading in my room, curled up in my blanket, thinking about the rain and sipping hot chocolate and doing my best to survive the life I was already living?

It was a nice book, I think.

I can't even remember so much has happened since then.

"Oh boy." I mutter, bitterness threatening to choke me.

My life is the freaking book right now. A horror story, complete with monsters, horrifying plot twists and heart-wrenching events that send me twirling, literally, into unconsciousness.