Love Letters and Lost Heroes

Love Letters and Lost Heroes (4)

What followed after was a lot of screaming and shouting on my part, and mom tried to calm me down and explain to me calmly. What I managed to gather before I stormed out, is that Jordan is going to be sharing my room, yes my room with me, and he moves in tomorrow my life is over.

That is how I found myself walking down the lane to the old hut, my legs just carried me there, I hadn’t been in years it was mine and Jordan’s hide out we always went there when the fighting before our dads left was too much. He was my hero.

I walked up to the old door and pushed it open. Everything was still where it used to be, the posters, the old toys and teddies, and the beanbags and there on the beanbags was Jordan, sat there with a bottle of vodka in his hand.

“You come here often too, huh?” He said slightly slurring his words.

“No,” I replied, “this is the first time in years.”

“Well I come here lots it’s the only place that reminds me of you.” That’s when I left I banged out the door and ran as fast as I could, why does he do that to me, why does he play with my head and my heart.  

 I ran, and I ran, and I ran until my legs gave way. I sunk to the ground next to a tree in the park, by now it was raining, my hair was plastered to my head, my jumper and jeans where covered in mud, and I was crying, not that you could tell anyway.

Then I felt warm, strong arms wrap around me and pick me up. I looked up into the deep chocolate eyes of Jordan; I could see the sadness and worry in them. I made a futile attempt to free myself from his strong grip.

“Shh, Nasha, don’t worry I’m taking you home,” he whispered softly in my ear. I settled my head against his chest, breathing in the smell of his cologne. The steady, comforting beat of his heart must of put me to sleep.