𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

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𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

JOHN SHELBY WAS WALKING IN THE RAIN

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JOHN SHELBY WAS WALKING IN THE RAIN. The pitter-patter of the tears from the clouds fell onto the cobbled streets of Watery Lane drowning his shoes.

He looked up spying Mrs Brown exiting the local bakery.

"Oi Mrs Brown?" He called, hoping to speak with her about what had occured a number of nights ago.

"John, sweetheart how are you?" She smiled warmly.

It was then he took notice of the purple colouring that took its place sitting upon her left cheek along with the small crimson slit that sat on her lower lip.

"I was just wondering if you were alright?" He asked wearily.

All she did was smile. Smile to hide the pain. Something she was used to by now.

"I'll be alright. Are you on your way to see Marie?" She asked already knowing who the young boy was going to see.

"Yeah, is she at home?"

"Yes. Although she's packing so try not to stay to long dear."

"Packing?" John was utterly confused "For what?"

"America."

And so John ran, feet kissing the cobbles. His clothes and hair, slick with perspiration, clung to his skin. Sweat rolled down his skin in thick, salty beads. He could feel his heart throbbing inside his chest. His skin felt like it was roasting.

Marie continued to pack. Humming a soft tune of  Moonlight Bay until she heard the sound of her front door banging against the wall was heard downstairs. She heard the thunder of footsteps echoing upstairs.

"America? Fucking AMERICA!"

She looked up coming face to face with John Shelby.

"John..." her voice trembled. The more anxious she became the more pronounced became her intellectualization of the whole process.

"America? When the fuck were you going to tell me?" his chest heaved.

"John you have to understand..." She whispered, almost afraid to make him more angry. However, he cut her off immediately.

"How...how could you not tell me? I...I...what?" He looked at her as if she was pulling his heart out of his chest.

"Please I never wanted to hurt you John." She cried.

"Well you're doing a pretty good fucking job." He wailed as he punched the wall next to him before grabbing the fist nursing it to his chest.

It was quiet.

"This has just showed me you weren't worth it. There were moments with you that made me really, really happy; but the majority of the time you shut me out. That's why I swear I'll try and forget about you. I'll never forget the good times I had with you, but I'll also never forget how you hurt me more than anyone I have ever fucking known."

Instead of his soft gaze that promised laughter and easy banter, his eyes glared with an intensity that tightened Marie's chest.

"You don't mean that...please, you don't mean that." She cried taking a step forward to reach for him. However, he stepped away.

"Three weeks. You're leaving in three bloody weeks? Were you ever going to tell me?" His voice cracked as he whispered the words.

"Of course I was!" She almost looked offended.

"But John how did you expect me to tell you I was leaving. How...how could I ever put it into words that I may never see you again?" She laughed without the humour.

"You can't go. You aren't just going to go off to America and leave me here to survive without you. I couldn't do it. I can't do it!"

"Then you can come with me." She whispered.

"To america?" John almost laughed.

"Yes!" She shouted.

"What am I going to do in America?" He questioned, smiling at how ridiculous the idea was.

"Be with me!" She finally screamed.

There was silence. For a moment. Then two. Then three.

"I can't." he whispered as a tear trickled down his cheek.

"What?" She asked her face paling.

"I can't" he repeated slightly louder.

"Why not?" She questioned, "Why not John?" She asked more sternly.

"Because..." He trailed off

"Because why?" She through her arms up.

"Bec-"

"Why John?"

"Because Martha's fucking pregnant!" He finally screemed. So loud that Marie was sure her neighbours at the top of the street had heard him.

The silence that followed was so quiet a pin being dropped could have been heard.

"Fuck!" She cried, he eyes screwing shut as she through her bag off her bed out of nothing but pure rage.

"Why the fuck are you so mad?" He mumbled, whipping the tears off his cheeks.

"I'm mad at you because I love you!" She cried.

"Alright? John I can't...I just can't keep it in anymore. It hurts to fucking much!" She screemed as she fell to the ground.

John had never seen Marie sit like that, so deflated. Her loose shoulders shook, her hands hanging low, making no attempt to conceal or even wipe away her own tears.

"I hate you! I...I hate you!" She cried, repeating that one phrase like a mantra.

"I hate you for making me fall in love with you. Alright, I hate you for breaking my heart without even realising you were. And I hate you for making me feel like this!" She screemed. The sight was almost frightening. Her eyes were crazed. Hair dishevelled.

"Well fuck you." He spat

"Well fuck you too!" She replied with just as much hatred.

He looked at her numbly. Although his eyes held hundreds of emotions, as if he was begging, pleading, trying to convince her to ask him to stay.

"Just go..." She sighed, emotionally exhausted.

And he did. He left. He walked away as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

Suddenly her father appeared in the doorway.

"What happened, couples spat?" He suggested, the bottle of whiskey glistening against the beam of sunlight that was trying to escape past the floral curtains.

"Fuck off" She said, glaring at him with such a hatred.

"You... you are seventeen years old, you don't know anything about love." He father sneered while pointing the bottle of whiskey at her.

"Oh and you do? You and mum don't look at each other the way me and John do. You don't laugh or touch. You don't smile. You beat her to a pulp. YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT LOVE!"

She heaved. Her chest falling and rising at an unhealthy speed as she walked out the door.

And she ran. Ran until she reached the edge of town. And she broke. She cried as if her brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of her every pore. For John. For herself. For their future together that would now never happen. From her mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of the strangers around her were suddenly wet with tears. 

Marie Brown finally broke.

















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