Don't Leave Me | Analogical

12. Coward

POV: Virgil

I fidgeted with my pen, clicking it absentmindedly as I chewed on my lip and stared down at the page in front of me.

I had barely written four lines and I was stuck already, the emotions swirling in my head but unable to transform into words. It was all just so... overwhelming.

I glanced over at my art portfolio and sighed. I still had things to do for Monday, but right now  I wasn't particularly fussed about university deadlines. I had too many other thoughts occupying my mind.

I looked back at the page and groaned in frustration, throwing down the pen. Why was it so hard to write poetry? No matter what structures, what metaphors or what adjectives I used, it simply did not convey the intensity of the emotions I was feeling.

I eventually gave up and shuffled into the kitchen to make tea. Maybe that would help clear my head a bit.

I turned on the kettle and took out my favourite mug, throwing a teabag in. Once the water was boiled, I filled my mug three quarters of the way and then opened the fridge.

There was no milk.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes in frustration. Could at least one thing go smoothly? Apparently not. Although maybe a walk down the street would help me relax a bit.

"I'm just gonna run down and get some milk from the shop." I shouted as I pulled on my purple hoodie.

"Okay, don't be too long." Logan called back from the living room. "Dinner is in an hour."

"Alright." I walked out the door, locking it behind me and immediately stuffing my hands in my pockets.

The trip to town centre was quite peaceful. It was a nice weekend and most people were either at the beach or at the park, meaning the streets weren't packed with teenagers and young people causing trouble. It was a nice change.

I sped through the local store, grabbed some milk and promptly headed to the checkout. I paused at the aisle with art supplies, distracted by a colourful and expensive set of chalk pastels. I spent well over ten minutes debating if I had enough savings to get it, before shrugging and grabbing the box.

I stepped out of the aisle and almost immediately retreated back behind the shelves. My blood ran cold.

Could this day get any worse?

I peeked around the corner and sure enough, my eyesight hadn't deceived me. Dee was standing with a shopping basket in hand, peering at the packets of pasta and rice in front of him.

Out of instinct, I turned to go in the opposite direction and find a different route to the checkout. Then I paused and contemplated the thought which nagged at my attention.

It was stupid, but what if it worked? What if I could end most of my troubles right here and right now?

I could almost hear Logan's stern voice in my ear insisting "it's dangerous!".

All I had to do was talk to Dee. That's not dangerous, right? We were in a public place. He wouldn't dare make a scene.

Would he?

On impulse I turned and looked back in his direction. Dee was already in the queue at the checkout, examining his hands and looking bored. I slowly walked to a different checkout, keeping my gaze trained on him. My social anxiety told me approaching him while in the queue would be too awkward.

We both bought our stuff and headed out of the shop. I was maybe ten or fifteen feet behind him, keeping my hood up and my head bowed towards the ground in case he looked over his shoulder and spotted me. I know I was hesitating, but I had to mentally prepare myself first.

He was so close. All I had to do was speed up and close the gap. Then I would simply tell him to leave me and Logan alone.

I played the scene out in my head, my brain instantly presenting the different possible outcomes of the interaction. Most of them weren't very appealing, only causing my heart to race and my palms sweat, making it hard to keep a good grip on the plastic shopping bag.

He was slowing down. I panicked as I debated why he was stopping. Had he spotted me? Was he going to confront me before I was ready for it?

Never mind, he was just turning a corner towards the park. I let out the breath I didn't realise I was holding and promptly followed him.

We reached the park and Dee sat down in one of the benches, his back to me. I watched from a small distance away as he pulled a newspaper out of his shopping bag and started flicking through it.

My mind was screaming at me. At that point I didn't even know what it was screaming about anymore. Did I want to confront him? Did I want to run back home? I wasn't sure.

Screw it, I told myself. Just go for it.

I took a deep breath and started walking towards the bench, my hands balled into fists and my heart racing faster than ever before.

I was so close...

... and I chickened out.

Before I knew what was happening, my legs were carrying me back the way I had come. My footsteps thundered against the ground as I ran down the street, as far away from Dee as possible.

I didn't slow down until I was back in our part of town. I doubled over and coughed from over exertion, my breaths shallow and fast. I leaned against a wall and put my face in my hands.

What was I thinking?! I couldn't do this! I was too weak. Too broken. I was a coward.

I rubbed my eyes to stop the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. Once I composed myself, I sighed and looked around. I was two estates away from our apartment and it was starting to get dark. Damn it, when did that happen? Logan is probably worried sick. I quickly adjusted my grip on my bag and walked back towards our apartment, the thoughts still swirling in my mind.

I was a coward. Nothing more than a coward.