❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Elliot stared down at his phone, slightly befuddled as to how three words could leave him so conflicted.
The words spun around in his head like a broken record, stuck on one part of the symphony and unable to move onto the rest of the composition. His head was unable to turn properly, fixed on the same thought that he had been considering ever since it had entered his mind. And, to make matters worse, the volume was constantly rising. Rising to a point where the sound of the horrible thought resonated through his body at full force.
It pulled his muscles taught. It made him want to cover his ears. It made him want to rip the damn thought out of his head and throw it far, far away. To someone else. Anyone else. Someone who wouldn't hurt her. Someone who could love her in the way that he was supposed to.
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