The Thing About Believing

Chapter Two

ONE AND A HALF MONTHS AGO

I ran to my friend Beth's house. The run was a slow and painful one. I needed to get there as quick as possible, but my legs would't carry me fast enough.

I turned onto her street and managed to run a little bit faster. 27, 29, 31... her house was next.

Once I got there, I knocked frantically on the door.

"Come on, Beth. Come, on," I muttered, ringing the doorbell harshly. "Shit."

I was just turning away when I heard the door open behind me.

"Charlie?" my friend Beth's voice came from behind me. In my mind I could just see her chubby face filled with worry, and she probably was tucking her red hair behind her ear like she always did when she worried.

I sighed with relief, turned around and ran inside her house without asking.

"Oh my God, Charlie! What the hell?" she said as she closed the door behind her and ran after me.

"Lock the door, Beth!" I yelled and pointed from the kitchen.

"It's already locked-" she said, then she saw my face. "Oh my God, Charlie... your face." She said quietly and stepped closer to look at me.

I had a giant bruise on my left cheek. Not to mention, my legs were completely scraped from running here not bothering to go through bushes and hopping over fences.

"I know, and I'm not talking about it." I said.

"Charlie. What happened? Tell me." she insisted.

"Nothi-"

"Charlie! What. The. Hell. Happened?!" she yelled.

I broke. I fell down and started crying uncontrollably, my chest heaving and ugly sobbing sounds escaping my mouth. My lungs felt like they were shrinking and caving in and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Shh...it's okay," Beth said to me and she slipped her arms around me, trying her best to comfort me.

That night, in that exact spot on her kitchen floor, in my best friend's arms, I cried myself to sleep.

_________

PRESENT DAY

"Hi, honey. Do you want me to get your luggage so you can start packing?" my mom asked me from my bedroom door.

I just nodded.

She smiled and left.

I looked at the calendar that hung across the room. Four days until I had to leave.

It was a terrible feeling, leaving your mother. Especially when you're leaving to be with someone who tore her apart without blinking. And now he wanted me? It just didn't make sense.

But I was going whether I liked it or not, because if my mom didn't drag me, I'd drag myself.

Shortly after, my mom returned, dropping my luggage and a duffel bag in the middle of the floor.

"Okay. So, just bring everything you think you'll need for a year." she said, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

I nodded and she began leaving my room slowly, hesitating at the door.

I knew she wanted me to tell her something. Maybe reassure her that I would be okay. Or maybe even reassure her that she would be okay.

But she knew about my current emotional state. I couldn't handle speaking. She knew I couldn't bear it.

But then my mom looked back at me for a second. The flash of pain and hurt and heartbreak in her eyes drove a deep hole right through the fabric of my heart, which was already torn and shredded.

There was no way of repairing my torn heart, but it just couldn't take any more pain either.

"Mom?" I croaked. For my mom, and for my shredded heart, I would try.

"Yes, honey?" she looked back at me again hesitantly, as if she didn't believe that the words I had spoken were real. That they were probably a fabrication of her fantasies or they were just simply in her head.

"I'll miss you." I managed.

As soon as the words escaped my mouth, she was grabbing me, and pulling me in for a bone-crushing hug, crying on my shoulder.

"Honey, I know. I know. I know." she said in between sobs, and I could feel my shoulder getting wet from her tears. But I also felt a tear slip down my cheek.

Before I knew it, both my mom and I were sobbing on each other's shoulders, tears constantly spilling from our eyes, it seemed.

After we had wiped our eyes, my mom left me to my packing.

While I was tucking my shirts away, I let myself cry a little more.

Judging from the sobbing sounds echoing from my mom's room from down the hallway, my mom was crying too. And I knew we both hurt.