Baby's in Black (Beatles One-Shot)

Here I Stand, Head in Hands

Jessie peered out the window as John walked into the house directly next door to hers. He was her neighbor? All this time, something in her mind had sparked and she thought she knew him from somewhere. There was something. He just looked familiar, but she didn't let the thought take over her mind. She usually tried not to let thoughts like that do that to her. And usually, she wasn't successful.

She didn't stop to let her father know she was home. In fact, she tried to be as quiet as possible as she quickly hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. Once inside, she slumped her book bag onto her bed and walked back over to the door and shut it. She pushed against the old, rusty brass knob multiple times before she did so successfully. She pressed her back to the door and slid down against the rustic white door with a small sigh. Again, she felt like crying. Breaking into tears. And she'd no idea why. She'd worked very hard to get over the fact her mother was never coming back and did an okay job of that. Her father hadn't been acting the same, sure. Perhaps that was it. And people were generally nice to her at school today. So what was wrong?

She pulled her thighs to her chest and put her chin on her knees. Thoughts were swirling in her mind again. She was overthinking again. About what was wrong. She was just... Sad. But couldn't explain why. She had to be able to, though. Couldn't she?

That was it. She'd had enough. She was mad at herself. Not at anyone or anything else. Herself. She didn't need to be sad. She was tired of it. She needed to just come to some sort of solution. Anything.

So this is what she did.

She blinked heavily, her eyes watering.

And then, she pressed the nail of her thumb deep into her wrist. She pulled it out. And pressed it in, much harder and dragged it across the skin of her arm. She was now about to start sobbing, but she swallowed and forced her tears down. Crying wouldn't help. At least that's what she thought. She had to deal with herself.

She admired her cut wrist, running her thumb gently across it. It was red and swollen, nearly bleeding. It stung for her just to graze it. She slowly stood and walked to her bed, when she noticed a small, white piece of paper scribbled onto with ink on top of it. She picked it up and read it.

Went North to your uncle's.
Says he might've found a job opportunity for me up there.
It's not far; I'll be back tonight.
I left a few of your mother's old belongings on your chair. They reminded me of you.

- Father

Jessie crumpled the note in her hand and walked over to her upholstered chair, dropping it. Atop it was a short, lacy black dress and a few pieces of pearl jewelry.

She picked up the dress and looked it over with a slight frown. Jessie then turned to her mirror and held it to her chest. She heard something bonk against her window, followed by a familiar voice.

"That's a lovely dress."

|| Author's Note:

Hello, everyone! I really hope you're enjoying this story.
Don't worry, I've got a plan. Lots of action and drama on the way.
This chapter kind of escalated quickly... This girl, Jessie, doesn't realize it yet, but she's dealing with depression. Don't worry, though, this isn't going to be a horrific sob story. More romance. This is just a peek into what she's going through.

Remember to vote and comment! Tell me what you think!

Peace,
Ruthie