Lost memories.

Closure

James

This is not good. Oh crapping -

My thoughts are cut short by the eyes staring at me. Everyone is still here, outside Millies door. What are they-

"Were you eavesdropping?" I cant help but raise my voice due to panic and anger. Lilly goes red, as per usual. Tom avoids my eyes. Georgia suddenly finds her fingernails very interesting and Vince, well he just shrugs 'cause he doesnt care, does he? Since no one is going to answer me, i might as well just go and pretend like they werent even there. They are least of my worries at the moment anyway. Shoving past Tom, Vince grabs my arm, holding me there.

"Good luck keeping that secret from her now;youre really gonna need it." Anger ignites inside of me and before i can even think of what im doing, i have Vince by the collar with his back against the railing.

"Just you try and mess things up between me and her, and i swear i will hurt you in ways that have not been invented before and i will ruine your pathetic, worthless-"

"James! What on earth are you doing?" Instinctively, i turn to Millie's voice. She is standing by her door with an aghast expression on her face.

"Yeah James, what are you-" the sound of my knuckles colliding with Vince's jaw is the last thing i hear before heading downstairs and out the front door.

Without even bothering to put my helmet on, i start my motorbike, with one destination in mind.

Rebecca's house.

Compared to my mansion, Rebecca's house is a freaking palace. I mean I don't get why anyone would get a house so big when there is only three people who live in it. Well two now, since her dad left. Selfish bastard. Anyway, reaching the front door, im met by her mother, Carrie.

"Come in James dear," she offers. Carrie is a woman in her late fourties, whose had so many facelifts that her face looks like it's permanantly pulled up. Her eyes are the same green as Rebecca's, but hold more emotions in them than her ddaughters. Naturally, she would be a blonde wouldn't she. But her figure is one of a photoshoped model. Basically, she is faker than Nicky minaj. Im not trying to be horrible or anything but thats what i think of her. She isnt a woman you would see and immediately think that she is a mother. She is more of a cougar type. Okay, i should really stop spilling all my thoughts of this woman, seen as she is my bestfriends mother and nearly like a second mother to me too.

"Thanks Carrie."

"So how are you dear?" She asks genuienly as she sits herself on the brown leather sofa in her livingroom. She is a designer you see, so the entire house is colour coded. Bold colours as well. The livingroom in which we are currently in has two shades of brown. This is like chocolate brown and beige brown, then the walls are cream. Looks quite nice  though, if im honest. She does have real talent, i can give her that. Anyway, back to her question. How am i? Mentally, im unstable. Emotionally, im an absolute wreck. Physically, well let's just say that even sleeping tablets have no effect on me whatsoever. Basically, I'm not all that great to be honest. But she doesn't need to know that, she has enough on her plate with Rebecca having cancer and all. So I'm jus better off of lying through my teeth instead.

"I'm good thanks, how about you?" I don't ask that question because I'm genuinely interested, its more of a formal necessity if anything, really. I mean if my husband had just left me and i had an eighteen year old daughter with Osteosarcoma and has already lost a leg and was refusing to get her treatement, i wouldnt even know how to cope with it all.

"Oh you know me," ah, here we go. Dont get me wrong, i love listening to people talk about their lives and all but she has a tendency of going off track and occassionally breaking down in tears. Something that i cant be dealing with; it just makes me uncomfortable.