The only exception.- Trixya

Falling

I'm in my bed
And you're not here
And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands
Forget what I said
It's not what I meant
And I can't take it back
I can't unpack the baggage you left

Alaska's POV

"Well, you can take whatever you want, be sure to leave some things to Patricia," Katya said a little unsure.

"Thank you."

"I will leave you alone, feel free to call me at any time."

I only nodded weakly as she left the room, leaving me alone.

Everything felt so familiar, it was as if she could enter at any moment and tell me that it was one of her stupid jokes, that everything would be fine and that she would make me love until it the sun came just to reward me for everything.

But she was gone, forever. I wasn't going to be able to hug her, or braid her hair, or feel her lips anymore, or tell her how beautiful she looked, just like a gothic goddess.

"Sharon, don't do it."

"Why are you so paranoid, baby?" She asked, laughing, "Don't you trust me?"

"Don't be stupid, of course I do, it's just that I don't want you to hurt yourself, those assholes can be very dangerous."

"Calm down Lasky, I'll win for you," she said, taking me by the waist with one hand and the chin with the other. "I promise you."

"Don't promise me that, promise me that you will come out of it safely," I asked, biting my lower lip nervously.

"I promise that too, and then we will celebrate by kissing each other until dawn."

"I love you," I sighed, laying my arms around her neck.

"Sharon, it's time!"

"And I love you too, my love," she replied, giving me what we didn't know, it would be our last kiss.

I came out of my trance to realize that I was standing in the middle of the room with tears in my eyes. I sighed and then went to the closet to see how much was there.

I knew how to differentiate what was Sharon's and what was Katya's stuff, as I had been in the room so many times and knew every space in the room, it was almost like being in my own bedroom. I began to go through every part of the closet recalling with every sweater or shirt a moment when we had lived together. I took my favorite hoodie remembering the time she first lent it to me. If I pushed myself hard enough, I could still feel her scent impregnated in each of her blouses.

I didn't know exactly what to take, honestly, it did not seem prudent to take anything, because to me everything should be left to Patricia, however, the woman insisted that I should also take some stuff, so I separated some t-shirts and sweaters, I also took a couple of vinyl that we loved. For every thing I checked, a new memory appeared reminding me how miserable I was. Each space was different from the previous one and although I thought I had seen everything, a black leather notebook caught my attention.

The word "journal" was marked on the front. I didn't remember it and I was more than sure Sharon had never talked to me about this, so it could be from Katya. Still, at the risk that it belonged to the blonde, curiosity prevailed with me and I opened that diary. I knew that letter like the palm of my hand: it belonged to Sharon.