7 Minutes in Heaven

7 Minutes in Heaven Chapter 31

I'm super-dy duper sorry that I haven't updated in a month! Dx

But I have legitimate reasons: I've been out of two for two weeks with no access to a computer, I've been helping my brother move out and into his apartment like four hours away from where I live, and I had major writer's block again! Plus, I have an English summer assignment that's due and I have to finish my book before next week!

And also, this chapter is like a filler chapter and kind of ehh...crappy (in my opinion) since I haven't written in so long! So please bear with me, and I hope you enjoy! xD

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I was a sloth at the start of the day: slow in movement, little words to say, and lazy. But could you blame me? I didn’t get any sleep, my thoughts filled with what I had witnessed—Nate and Michelle. My eyes that morning were swollen and as red as a tomato. I had somewhat lost my voice, and I just wasn’t in the mood to do anything.

When Emmett knocked on my door, I didn’t respond nor budge from my position, curled up under the covers. He heaved a sigh. “Jemma, you should probably get up.” I didn’t respond. “Hey, are you all right?” Though I knew he couldn’t see me, I shook my head anyway. Then I heard the clanking of the doorknob as my brother unlocked the door. The moment he stepped in, he quickly strode over to my bed and pulled the covers off me.

Letting out a groggy groan, I tugged at the covers, but he only pulled it back. After giving up, I flopped on my bed and huffed, “Leave me alone,” before slamming a pillow to my face.

Albeit I couldn’t see a damn thing, I just knew he was shaking his head. “Look…I know this is really tactless, but you can’t act all”—

“Depressed, I know,” I finished dejectedly—feebly. “But how else do you expect me to be acting like?” I heaved a sigh. “Just let me take it step by step.”

I felt him sit at the edge of my bed. “Yeah…I know…but the baby…”

At that point, I just didn’t want to talk anymore since the tears were piling on. Whatever anyone wanted to talk about, it immediately made me think of Nate. It didn’t matter whether or not the subject of the conversation and Nate are correlated. One way or another, he will pop into my head. In sum, getting rid off him is like trying to get rid of a Sharpie mark on paper. Sure, you could rip off the piece of paper with the mark, or you could even put white out on it. However, even if you did that, the mark would still be there, be it deep down underneath, or somewhere out of your reach. Either way, it’s still there, a part of you. Ridding of it is out of the question.

Nate was the stupid Sharpie mark, and the paper was my heart. Whiting it out would be like concealing my feelings, covering it up with some stupid front—but it still remains deep down inside me. Ripping that piece of paper is like breaking off a piece of my heart—and I feel emptiness inside. What other option is there left?

Regardless, be it any writing utensil, erasing it, covering it up—anything—is completely futile. You can’t erase someone from your life…especially when that person was your first love and the guy that got you pregnant. You just couldn’t.

It’s…impossible.

When I snapped back to reality, I realized I was alone. Taking off the pillow from my face, I slowly slipped out of bed and leisurely made my way to the bathroom when I felt someone heavy jump on my back.

“Morning, sunshine!” greeted Jackson in his usual bubbly tone. I didn’t respond. “Sorry…you’re probably not in the mood…” he muttered dejectedly, and I shook my head slightly in response. He jumped off my back.