a certain romance | alex turner/arctic monkeys fanfic

chapter 4 - to be alone

charlie's point of view:

As the great J.R.R. Tolkien once wrote - I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. The dry patches on the small piece of loaf only expand as time goes by. As the light spots covered by butter decrease, the darkness underneath creeps forward and spreads, like festering mold in my mind. I feel as if I've had the same packet of butter since forever, it has always lasted and provided me with what I needed. Until one day, all of a sudden, I opened the lid only to be met by a few small yellow clumps scattered across the tub. I don't know when it happened, but I'd ran out of butter, my fuel. I'd ran out of what was keeping me sane, from what was keeping me from cracking and breaking. For the next few years I'd kept that tub of butter, carefully taking small portions so that it wouldn't run out. I knew that somewhere I could find more, I simply hadn't found that place yet. I was lost in the supermarket called life, fanatically looking for my damn butter. And time was running out, the checkouts were closing.

I never would have guessed working as a receptionist in a hotel would be so tiring. But when I came home after my nine hour shift I felt completely battered. It felt as if I had a massive hangover; my head was throbbing, my ears hated even the tiniest of annoying noise they could hear and my eyes had trouble adjusting to its surroundings. I'd gotten this job when I was 17, and ever since then this felt like my second home. My boss, Katherine, was like a mother to me. She was 39, managed a hotel, was a freelance writer and enjoyed gardening - all whilst still managing to take care of three children, and me. Sure, I was 24, but in her eyes, I was still a kid. She had seen me at my very worst and yet she'd always stayed by my side. Never once had she looked at me with anything but love in her eyes, whether that be the kind that showed happiness or the kind that worried for you. Not once had she questioned my choices or judged me for who I was. She was truly my guardian angel.

I pulled up into my driveway, hearing the snow creak under the tires of my Volvo as it slowly came to a stop. Turning the engine off, I gathered my stuff from the passenger's seat. With my phone and keys in one hand, I opened the door and stepped outside, feeling the cold and crisp air hit pinch my cheeks. I immediately felt the thin, freezing air fill my lungs, sending a shiver throughout my body. As I walked towards my house I couldn't help but smile. I don't know why, but winter did something to me. What some might consider cold and awful I experienced as quite thrilling. The sound of the snow creaking as my boots sank into it was one of my favorite sounds in the whole world, after the sound of my mother's laugh, my father's old guitar and the scratching of the stylus of the turntable against the record. Winter filled me with an energy that seemed to fill the emptiness inside me. All my favorite memories were from the winters of the past. Riding the reindeers at the Christmas market, eating candied apples with my grandmother, building snow forts with my brother – winter brought back all those memories. I could not think of one unhappy winter day. Although the sun must set sometime, and as the darkness grows around my house so does the darkness inside me. The happy memories remind me of what I miss, and I realize that I have to cope with how to be alone.

I throw my keys onto the dresser next to the shoe-rack. Kicking off my shoes and putting my coat on the chair next to the door I start walking toward my kitchen.

"Darling..." I hear my mother's voice, filled withdisapproval. I sigh as I walk back to the front door. I pick up my coat andhang it in the wardrobe, put my boots neatly on the rack and place my keys inthe small ceramic bowl on top of the dresser. Without even having to see it, Icould imagine my mother, standing with her arms crossed over her chest andeyebrows raised, giving me a meaning look.

"I've told you a million times, Charlotte. Please put your things away straight away, I don't want to be following you around all the time, only to make sure that you tidy up." Her voice was dripping with a sense of disappointment, I knew she was tired of telling me to put my things away. You could almost sense her sigh coming before it actually happened. Sigh. Deep, tired, yet it was also filled with love.