Joy seawell cried.
It was the one thing she knew how to do well. And at that moment, her tears would not stop falling. Squatted down by the bus stop, the only stop in the Old town, her tears dropped one by one. Like pearls spilling from a rich lady's neck. They tumbled and slid onto the ground.
Joy was sure they mocked her. "Keep crying Joy" they seemed to say, a snicker in their watery voices. "Never stop, this is all you're good for. Perhaps a flower will grow in your wake."
The letter by her feet lay open, tear drops smeared the hasilty scribbled ink. She could almost hear George's voice.
I didn't want things to end this way, I swear Joy. I really didnt. It's just that... you left me no choice(then he had crossed out the word choice and replaced it with a curvy no other way). I just can't love me and you for the both of us. I'll always cherish our moments. Sincerely, George Alps.
Joy replayed the words in her mind. Then she got up and shrieked. She snatched the letter from the ground and tore it in half. Can't love me and you for the both of us? She let out another scream.
She rippped and ripped and ripped.
How dare he? how could he? He would take all those moments, he would take all her love, every single piece of her stinking, unconditonal love, and run away? Joy beat at her chest, but her heart thumped on. Paper floated around her like confetti at a parade.
This was the end.
Through her tears she saw the moon burning with enough light to power the sun. She wanted that light to drape over her world. Burn into her eyes and her heart. She wanted it to hurt, anything needed to hurt more than this.
"I feel like I'm dying." Her own voice startled her. She whispered the words again. Everywhere had been so quiet before, excpet her tears and screams, and now there was her voice. I feel like I'm dying. The words floated up in the air around her, like white noise.
"Miss? Are you alright?"
Joy jumped a little and straightened her back. She wiped her eyes with her palms, snached a deep breath, then spun around.
The patrol officer hovered, a look of uncertainity and deep curiosty etched on his face. He had the uniform of the night watchers, yellow and blue like a popsicle stick. The shiny medal that dangled from his belt boasted that he was new on the job.
The old town had started The night watchers brigade a month ago, when the entirety of Elton street had been robbed of their mail.
"Quite alright." Joy said. She smiled, her lips stretching but her eyes blank.
The officer seemed satisfied and nodded once. "Just checking, you should be heading on home now, unless you've got no curfew."
He grinned at her; a row of yellow teeth. His expression was clear. A young one like you, enyoying the greatness of this time of your life. Out and about with all that fun!
Oh, how wrong he was.
"Ha. I'll be heading home now thanks." She walked off, trying hard not to drag her feet. Her heels clicked on the ground.
"Well have a great rest of your night." He called after her, and Joy could feel him waving with enthusiasm. Somehow all the night watchers in the old town acted the same, stiff and smiley and oblivous to Joy's pain.
The streets rolled on ahead of her, lonesome in their making. It was always like this on Wednesday. Quiet with the occasioanl giggles of friendhsip cirlces or couples on a stroll. She used to love Wednesdays.
The world belonged to her on Wednesday. The world and George. Which up till two hours ago had been one and the same.
George lived in her dreams and in her every moment.
When she coudln't sleep she would call his home. When he coudln't talk she would think of his sweet face and arching eyerbows and daring smiles.
She was there with a boatload of sandwiches during every lunch break, and all the workers down at the finance center called her "Geroge's girl." "
Here comes Geroge's girl, lucky sucker." They would cheer each time they heard her heels click up and down the halls.
He was her great love. And forever they would brave the world together, leaning on one another, being there for one another.
Joy felt the wave of panic and she hugged herself. I don't want to be alone, I can't take it. Joy felt her eyes form more tears.
She walked faster.
Past Crazy Ruthie Lark's bakery with the pink neon signs flashing 'open'. Past Dory's toy shop, with a giant stuffed rabbit waving from the window.
One sharp left, and she collided into a cloud of fluff and red.
YOU ARE READING
Where's Joy?
Fantasy"You have an open heart, and you feel things deeply. That's a gift." He stared at her with very serious eyes, like he meant all he said. In the dreary Old Town, Joy Seawell struggles with a heartbreak like no other. Perhaps with the help of a little...
