She was fire; he was ice.
He was bad and she was good.
He was rude cocky and arrogant. She was sarcastic, depressed and lonely.
Opposites attract. But so do lies, murder, bets, and promises.
For we are all crooked souls trying to stay up straight...
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Chapter 36: The Good Girl's Promise • MY ZIPPER IS CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC •
• KIMBERLY •
The next few days go by very slowly. And when I say, "Very slowly," I mean that I think I saw a snail going faster in its life than mine.
In these few days, Aunt Tessa insisted that I stay home and rest. When I would object, she would give me a fierce look that silenced any past thought of objecting to her. Even though I wasn't throwing up anymore, she still brought me soup and crackers for lunch and dinner.
The only problem about this is that I didn't eat the soup. To be honest, I haven't been eating hardly anything lately. Not because I don't want to, but instead, because whenever a cracker or spoonful of soup slide down my throat, I feel disgusted and want to throw it back up instead.
So, I usually pour the soup down the toilet to keep Aunt Tessa at ease.
Jamie made many trips to come see me, along with Nathan (although, my brother was furious that Nathan was in the house) I was happy that they were there. Jamie and Nathan were by my side through it all, and I was lucky to have them.
But nothing seemed to ease my thoughts off of the boy next door. Over these few days of sitting in bed, I have drawn such an anger that was half directed towards me and at Ryder.
Each night, as I slept in my bed, I could faintly hear a continuous knock on my window. Almost as if a tree branch was knocking loudly against my window. And each time the knock pounded, I bumped up the volume of my earphones connected to my iPod. Flooding out the tears and the pain with music.
Ryder was on my mind a lot it seemed these past few days. I hated myself for thinking about him. I hated myself for even breathing the same air, touching the same lips, and looking into the green eyes of the person who did more than break my trust...but somehow broke what was remaining of my heart.
Occasionally, Tessa would ask about him. As if she could sense the tension between us. I would always shrug my shoulders and remain quiet, afraid that if I open my mouth then the flood of emotions would just pour out.
She would always take my harsh attitude with a kind heart and say with a smirk, "If it makes you feel any better the boy, Ryder, stopped by several times asking about you. I made sure to slam the door in his face and cuss him out in Chinese."
It would always cause me to smile and somehow feel a twinge if happiness in the dark tunnel I am forever stuck in. The dark tunnel's name is Depression and I seem to be walking through the dark tunnel continuously it seems.
