Flawless Fiction

Forever?

A week after my parents gave permission, Alyssa was living in my room with me. It was pretty crowded, but I didn't mind. After I'd divided my closet in half, everything was easy to figure out. Surprisingly, my parents had been okay with her sleeping in my bed. My heart soared every time I looked to see her sleeping soudly next to me. I had insomnia, and my pills weren't always effective, so I watched her fall asleep at night. The best nights were the ones where she tried to fight sleep, to stay up with me. Her tired voice when she whispers "No, no, I'm awake, I'm not asleep," is absolutely adorable. The lack of space in my bed assures that we're as close as can be. 

I love watching her become tired. It's the most interesting thing, because I know that if I didn't take any pills I'd be up all night. However, she doesn't take any whatsoever. She can simply fall asleep. There's something about that, something I find incredicbly fascinating. When she fights it, when she wakes back up, her eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings. A small motion, sure, but it makes me feel my love for her so intensely that I need a deep breath. The same thing happens when I hear her laugh, or see a certain look in her eyes. She has this one look that I see sometimes. It's very innocent, full of pain and vulnerability. I rarely see it, and when I do it's only for a split second. It makes me want to pull her close and never let her go, to drape my love around her shoulders disguised as an 100-pound weight and make sure she stays in one place. If she stays in one place, with me, nothing can ever hurt her. I wish nothing had ever hurt her. 

That look had appeared in her eyes on her first night. I knew she was remembering the reason why she was here, and it was hurting her. It made me curious about her parents. We'd never talked about them, and I couldn't help but wonder. I would never ask, of course, and I'd tried my hardest to get rid of those thoughts. Asking would only hurt her, I knew. I'd even tried to write about it, as a way of expressing my feelings. I write about my feelings on occasion. I don't keep a diary, though, I've tried and I've always been far too lazy to keep it up. I always found it a week or a month later, thinking "Shit! I forgot to write in it..oh well." I've started one a thousand times. By eighth grade, I gave up and just wrote wherever when I felt like writing. 

Here is the journal entry I wrote about her parents on the day I found out. I wrote this right after I left her house. 

9 June 2014

Alyssa. 

She's so mysterious sometimes. I feel like I know her, but then something I don't know happens, and yea. That didn't make any sense. Then again since when have I ever made sense? Whatever, anyway, I'm writing about her. Yea. God, she's amazing. Her smile gives me butterflies. I feel like I've said that before, but it really does. Her teeth are perfect. Especially compared to mine, I'm the geek with the braces. My eyes are slowly getting worse too, so I'll have glasses soon. Only, I'm getting contacts. People have told me I look good with glasses, but it's just so...okay honestly I don't know. But I don't want them. Contacts for me please! Alyssa wears glasses. They're really cute on her. It's funny because at lunch they get stolen alot, but I've never taken them. I'm not entirely sure why. I could have I suppose. Maybe it's because I'm so damn short I can't even reach. Fine, that's an exaggeration. But still, I'm really fucking short, while she's all 5'11'' with her long, sexy legs. Even when I'd only seen her in jeans I knew her legs were sexy. Fuck, I don't think that was what I'm supposed to be writing about. This is my journal, not erotica. Right! I was supposed to be writing about her parents and stuff. Wow I'm terrible. Okay. So, she thinks her parents are dead. And although I know that's something you're supposed to be sad about, I know I'll never completely understand it. When I think about my parents dying, it doesn't bug me all that much. They aren't the best people, especially my mom. Was she even close to her parents? I mean, I've never met them. Does that mean she doesn't care about me? Wouldn't she want me to meet her parents if she was close with them? Did she think I wasn't good enough? I've met parents before! Granted, only twice, but still! I sat through a dinner with my ex's parents and met my other ex's mother. Does she think I can't meet parents? UGH! This is so confusing, I want to know so many things. Were her parents away alot? Maybe that was how she drank so much?? God, memories of her drunk texts...I need to run. I'm going for a jog. It always helps chase away feelings and memories. 

After I wrote that, I ran to where I always go and smoked a cigarette. The running helps me get rid of energy, which I can no longer spend focusing on thoughts. The cigarette calms me down...usually. Sometimes it makes me shaky and I need to run again. I have an odd reaction to cigarettes. However, I do love them. There's something I find hauntingly beautiful about slicing up my lifespan. Alyssa doesn't approve, and I don't blame her. 

I flashed back to the first night she spent in my room. I'd tried to get her in my bed as fast as I could, so we'd the same height. That probably seemed strange to her. However, on bare feet I'm only 5'4'', and although guys may think short girls are cute, there is nothing cute about my lips being roughly eight inches away from hers. I didn't even really like it when they were 8 millimeters away, never mind inches. If she noticed my eagerness to get her in bed, she didn't mention it. Either that or she didn't care, or wanted to be in my bed. I didn't speculate about it. We spent the night cuddling and kissing, and she fell asleep at midnight. 

Embarrassingly enough, she was there when I noticed it was 11:11 and made my wish. I have a sort of routine for 11:11, and try my best not to let others see it. I've been made fun of for believing in it. I guess it's just nice to believe in something. When I saw that the clock had changed to 11:12, I looked at Alyssa to see her smiling back at me. I felt the blush on my face and simply laughed, telling her not to judge me. We then had a ridiculous argument about why I was sure she was judging me and why she was sure that she wasn't. My arguing skills were thrown off by the fact that I couldn't stop smiling at her. Finally, when I had nothing left to say, I kissed her. She kissed me back and we spent the rest of the night kissing. I fell asleep in a cloud of nirvana. 

 That cloud is long gone, because now here I am, sitting in my room, lonely and confused and unbelievably distraught. Alyssa's things are gone, along with any shred of happiness I've ever had. I stopped crying an hour ago. Now, all I can do is stare at my walls. I know it's my fault that she's gone, too. It's all commpletely my own fault. I can feel my heart pounding like a drum and the room is so hot that I feel like I'm in Hell. My screams climb out of my throat and hit the air like ice before I can muffle them with a pillow. It's been three days since Alyssa left and my parents are used to the screaming by now. It happens every time I remember what happened, why she left.

My mind travels into my memories and everything becomes hazy. I'm in my bed. Alyssa's next to me. I'm on my side, she's on her back. There are no details in the room, just her. I speak against my will, and my voice is distorted.

"C'mon, babe, please?"

Alyssa shakes her head, saying, "No, Wren, your parents are going to be back soon."

"Pleaasee?" The begging tone in my voice is accommpanied with one of seduction. I feel my hand trail down her stomach to  the front of her shorts. 

"Stop."

I say please once again before kissing her slowly and traveling to her neck, where I make sure to let out a hot breath before sharply biting her skin, covering my bites with kisses. I can almost feel Alyssa's mind wavering. Finally, she grabbed me by the hips and rolled me so that she was on top. We stripped as fast as we could and I was orgasming before I knew it. I definitely needed to kiss her neck more often. Then, a knock sounded on my door and I knew what would happen. My parents would walk in without my permission, as always. I had forgotten to lock the damn door. I had enough time to shove her off of me but not enough to dress and then the door was open. My mother stood in the frame of it with her hand over her mouth and quickly left my room. 

They kicked out Alyssa later that night. 

I pulled myself back to the present and realized I had been screaming throughout my enitre flashback. I was a miserable pile of despair, laying on my mattress and wishing that I wasn't alone. The pain swirled around me like a hurricane but I knew there would be no eye to this storm and I couldn't take it. I made my way to my kitchen. I dumped the entire bottle of my sleeping pills into my hand and swallowed them one by one. My head throbbed with my heart as I walked back to my room. I buried myself under covers of broken promises and harsh words, kisses never long enough and smiles never real enough. I stared at my blurry arm and wrote lazily, "Alyssa is my life. No Alyssa, no life." I smiled involuntarily as I drifted into a pool of complete emptiness and nothingness. 

And with that, I proved to everyone who ever loved me that there was only one person who I had loved back with my entire being. Her.