AURORA ☾ Leah Clearwater ✔

Chapter 10... Truth

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Leah

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump. 

I awoke to the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. I didn't understand how it was still beating. Hadn't it been destroyed? Hadn't it been burned till only ashes remained?

I didn't understand how my eyes still produced tears, wetting my raw cheeks as they rolled across. Hadn't I exhausted my supply? Hadn't I wrung my body of water until it was so dried up that I might crumble away? 

I didn't understand how I could still feel, think, be. I didn't understand how any part of me still existed. Hadn't I been obliterated? Hadn't my life been wiped clean off this Earth?

Yet here I was, sprawled pathetically across my bed, my eyes sore, my phantom heart pulsing in my should-be empty chest. I was here, though it didn't seem possible that I could still exist after all that had passed. Every part of me felt hollow and far away, yet smothering and too close.

The pain seemed to spike, viciously spearing through me, when I remember just why I felt like this.

Sam.

Sam.

Sam. Sam. Sam.

He had left me. Discarded me. Thrown me away.

Fresh, miraculous tears welled in my eyes. How could he? Why would he? Didn't he know that I loved him, utterly, wholly, completely? That I loved him more than I could ever love myself? A sob rose in my aching throat, and my breath hitched. My heartbeat seemed to ring dully in my ears. It stopped abruptly, and for a second I worried—Did this mean it had finally given out? A short wave of relief washed over me, until—

"Leah!" Mom called. "Phone! It's Emily!"

Ah. So, the ringing hadn't been my heart, I thought. I tried to call back to her, but I couldn't. I tried will myself to sit up, but my body protested.

"Leah? Are you awake?"

"Yeah," I croaked, finally, but I wasn't sure she could hear me. My voice was a raspy whisper.

I heard her mutter something, probably to Emily, and then footsteps in the hall as she headed towards my room. She poked her head in, and I turned to look at her.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft. "So you are awake. Are you up for a chat with Emily?"

Again I tried to move. This time my body listened, and I was able to I right myself. But as soon as I sat up, my strength drained away and I had to rest my heavy head on my knees. "I'm not sure..."

Mom tilted her head to the side, her brow folding together. "You should try. She's worried about you. And you should at least talk to someone. You've already missed two days of school..."

"Okay," I conceded. I didn't have the energy to refuse, anyway. "Sure."

A ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. "I'll let her know. The phone will be waiting in the kitchen," she said, before disappearing again, the sounds of her footfalls drifting away.

I stayed where I was for another moment, listening to the sound of the rain as it pattered at my windows, trying to prepare my body for the walk to the kitchen; the effort it would take, it might as well have been a walk all the way to Forks. But I did as I was asked, swinging my heavy legs over the edge of the bed and getting to my feet.