When A Heartbeat Breaks

Chapter 7 - Death By Tears?

~~Emily's POV~~

I entered the doors. The smoothie shack me and Sam used to go too. The place we met, the place we hung out, the place when she asked me out. The place we called home. Somebody had to ruin it though.

Sam was there. But she was broken. Crying. That tore my heart to a million more peaces than it already was. My chest hurts so badly- worse than a knife through the heart. What made it worse was the other person with her. God damnit Mia! Why do you have to be there?! I'm going to strangle her and make her cry. That's right, give me the death glare for all I care-..

Did you just hug my Sammy?! Oh no she didn't! This is not right why are you there? That is supposed to be me! I'm supposed to be there...

Then why did I leave her? Why am I so stupid? How can I do that? Is she crying because of me? Of how harsh I was? Why did I do that, oh god!

Tears where already streaming. I ran out. I just ran. I couldn't stop running, it felt like the only hope I had. Only hope I have. There must be a trail of tears, it felt like I could water the whole street with these salty tears. Why am I crying so much? I did it! It's my fault... It's all my fault... It's always my fault, when is it not? I'm such a screw up.

I stormed through the house. Luckily my parents where still working. When are they not? They just work and argue. It doesn't matter. Non of it matters. I stumble into my room, throwing myself onto the bed. I just cry into the pillow. What else am I supposed to do? I left the girl I love just because I'm scared. I've got to face my fears, not deal with them like this. I've got to tell everyone. I would definitely prefer a life with hell at school, and being with the girl I love other than being queen of the school, being with an abusive and horrible boyfriend having to dress in pathetic clothes and not be me. Being fake. I hate it! The clothes are not the stuff I usually would like to wear. I love to wear jeans, skinny or not. I absolutely hate makeup, vests and handbags. It's just not my thing. When I was with Sam, she didn't care what I looked like, or dressed. She said I always looked beautiful to her. Then why do I dress like this. I'm not going to. Not anymore. No way in hell.

I escape to the bathroom, and wash away the makeup. just feeling it wash away makes me feel better already. I then dry my face, and retreat back to my room and scavenge for my jeans and T-shirt.

Never again will I wear this stuff. I'm going to burn it along with the makeup.

I speedily got changed into the clothing, taking all the trendy, and all the clothes I hate towards the metal bin located in the back garden.

~~

I watch as the items burn. It gives me Satisfaction, just Watching the things that played a part in my suffering burn. I wish I can do that to the people that played a part too. Society also.
Burn.
Burn.
Burn.

I retrieve the lid, a place it on, blocking all access to oxygen, so it will soon die down. I retreat back to my room, and crash in my bed. There, I sobbed myself to sleep. It's only Monday, I've still got 4 days of school left. Marvelous. Im not going to go. I wish I can sleep the pain away. Then I would never have to wake up.