The Unfortunate Life Of Amelia Thorn.

Chapter Four:

I feel sick.

I feel as if all this nausea could lead to all my insides disappearing in the form of vomit. I could possibly just lose my stomach, my lungs, perhaps even my heart. God, a girl can only dream.

But as I look at Tyron, I portray a smiling face. I'm fine. I resume after a sigh, heavy as stone.

"So, I found it.

I found the reason why he left me. I found it buried under a heap of lies and all the deceiving looks he gave me.

Truthfully, dude, he didn't want me. He wanted it. The one thing I wasn't ready to give up, and he took it. He didn't even exchange it for love, nor a simple hug. Instead, he guilted me into it each time, and each time I fell for it. Until one day, I told him enough was enough.

I'm useless to him now. He doesn't need me anymore, nor did he ever want me."

Tyron's dark eyes look sympathetic as he watches me fiddle uncomfortably with the zipper on my bag. I glance up at the waves rolling by in front of us and before any words leave his lips, I explain further:

"He corrupted my heart. Six months ago, he took hold of my hand and charmed me in an old, abandoned train. Candles and pizza were set up, and God.. At that moment in the universe, everything was perfect. It felt as if all war, all famine, all abuse, all deaths.. everything in the world was put on pause. And suddenly, I was his.

Keith made me feel special in ways that I hadn't even thought existed. Not even my parents had made me feel as loved. As we shared thoughts and laughs, as we wrestled on his couch, as we submerged ourselves in the salty water of the ocean each time we went bodyboarding.. the butterflies in my stomach grew larger and larger until eating became impossible due to a clogged esophagus..."

I pause to take a deep breath and swallow the sudden lump in my throat. I take another large gulp of Coke from the 2-litre bottle and it burns my throat as it goes down.

"Amelia..", he begins, but I don't let him. This is my time to rant, this was my opportunity to let out the emotions and..

"The butterflies wilted and died the night I returned from my visit to Romania. It was the day after my birthday, and I had just jumped off a 13-hour long flight when I expected to see his face at the airport. Instead, he told me to meet him at his house. I jumped into the shower, and having been awake for the past 49 hours, my eyes were beginning to droop. I drank a quick energy drink and missioned to his house, curious to find my birthday present in his hands.. My birthday present that night was the opportunity to brand myself as No Longer A Virgin. His hands had explored places I had originally bubble-wrapped and kept marked FRAGILE, and even though I exposed my entire self to him, his love for me was absent in action.

Two months later, which is today, he broke up with me. As I slipped into the bath this evening, I received a message which no one wants to read: "You've changed."

I transported myself back to all the conversations I had with him in the past.. the ways I treated him, the things I said to him, and the sex.. All the sex.. I had said no. I changed, because I said no."

I glance down to see Tyron's fists clenching as he spits out words too dangerous to repeat. He threatens, and vows.. and when he sees my face.. my eyes as dry as summer.. He stops himself. He looks down at me and pulls me into his arms and I slam against his soft body.. But it doesn't help.

"It doesn't matter though, does it, Ty? He found his happiness in the depths of her vagina, didn't he?"

He suggests ice-cream. We walk as silent as the dead towards a kiosk on the beach, brandishing large swirls of vanilla. He tells me about his girl problems. He's got a crush on a girl but something won't allow them to be together. I half-listen, focussing my eyes on each swell transforming into bubbles of foam leaping forward to lap at our toes as we walk, like excited puppies struggling to break free from the leashes of the domineering current.

Tyron was a friend. Kinda.

He's the type of friend who's always there for you, but never there for you. Ty and I were close. We had been ever since he stuck his tongue down my throat in a movie theatre when he asked me out on a date once. He received a violent slap in the face when his hand wandered a little too far on the map of my body.. The chat we're having now is post-apology.

"Dude, he was a douchebag," he reassures, "He would have never treated you right.. So what if it was a 6 month relationship? You'll soon find one that will take you through 6 years!"

He fixes the latch on my helmet. I smile because I know he's right. But I sigh because I don't know when..

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The problem with Tyron has always been that I never know where I stand with him. But that didn't matter, since he was always my punching bag.

At least I thought that until he dropped me off at my house and helped me climb off his shiny, yellow scooter. He kissed me. His giant pale lips moved towards me, and I let it happen.

"Amy, I don't think it will work."

The message read loud and clear at 3:02am.

Ty had come to me asking for love, and I gave him rebound love. Secondhand love packaged by a thrift shop.. and now he was leaving me? We weren't even together.. What do you even call it when people who were never together separate? A joke.

I leave the chat to open Jay's.. to tell her I need her, but her status says 'busy' .. her mind is elsewhere. She isn't interested in my sob stories.

So I pick up a tub of ice cream from amongst the frozen meals in the freezer and sit on the kitchen floor. I look around at the empty cupboards, once filled with pots and love. Mother's gone.

She filed for divorce the day after my birthday. She needed to leave us, she said. But everyone else thinks she's on vacation.

A tear dents the frost on the tub beneath me, and I look away from it.

I feel nauseas again, so I put the tub back and slam my earphones into my ears.

Time to clean.

I clean my room to clean up my life. I wipe away dust to wipe away memories, and I rearrange books to rearrange my mind.. my feelings. I finally find the comfort of my bed at 5am.

I dream about finding love. Cooped up in a tiny box beneath the floorboards are the confessions of sweet undying love that I'd never heard before.

My alarm blares loudly in my ears at 6am, interrupting further over-exaggerated ideas of happiness.

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Okay, I know I haven't posted in forever! But I'm starting again, thanks to some support and motivation.. And a hint of inspiration :D Watch this space.