Jonathan Hunt is a lonely person with his own sad story; And so is Ashleigh Bradbury. John, however, finds his ways to balance the pain and mirth in his life. Ash, on the other hand, has started to live with the pain. While John is learning to adjus...
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"My eyes are tired of crying over your absence."
❛❛「₪」❜❜
John's P.O.V
We went to my section of the society. And I stood right under the balcony of the house, which was once mine. Everything seemed so fresh, as if it was just yesterday. As if not a single thing had changed here. As if I was still the same 16 year old Jonathan Hunt, standing there, in awe, confusion, pain and guilt. Having no idea what is to be done next. Having no idea what just happened. Having no idea why it happened. As if I was still the same 16 year old Jonathan Hunt, standing under the balcony of his house. His bare feet soaked in his sister's blood. Her body lying in front of him. Dead.
"Everything has changed so much over here." Elliz Ellis said.
"No. Nothing has." I looked at her.
"Well I agree with my girlfriend!" Adam shrugged.
"Nothing. Has. Changed. Every goddamn thing is still here Adam." I yelled.
Adam suddenly looked concerned. He stepped towards me.
"I am sorry." I said. "I need some rest."
"Alright I will drop- Jonathan?" Before he could say anything, I ran out of the place. I stopped the first car and requested the man inside of it, for a lift.
"Which way are you going?" The man in the car asked.
"Opposite to yours." I said.
"Well, then why not you try someone else?"
"Just drop me till the highway." I begged.
"Alright. Get in." He said.
I just wanted to get away from there. Because I knew if Adam and Elizabeth would find me, they would ask me several things about what happened to me all of a sudden. And I didn't want to be talked about it.
The man dropped me at the highway and I booked a cab and reached home. Adam and Elizabeth were constantly calling me and texting me. And I know they cared, but I was not in a condition.
I didn't bother about any goddamn thing in the house. Just threw my watch and shoes on the floor and stepped inside the room, slamming the door shut. I tried a lot to sleep. But I couldn't. I kept staring at the stars.
Mum would always say that people who die, turn into stars. And I looked at them, looking for my family. Maybe my father was up there, looking at how different his son was than him. How he would save so many lives, and how I couldn't even save one life. Maybe, my mother was looking at me and wondering what has been bothering me all these years. And maybe, even Emma was looking at me?
Maybe, she would look at me with tearful eyes, as if wanting to ask me why I did that. She was there because of me. Would she be thinking, "Why did you do that to me?" or even worse, "You killed me."
