Should I continue this story? Tell me what you think and please, be brutally honest! |
My soft heart; pounding in my ears, fluttering in my throat. My crystal blue eyes; red and sore, tired from the salty tears gently flowing over my pink cheeks. The rest of my vulnerable body falls weak. I can barely feel my toes, my legs - all of me turns numb. But, not from the cold, damp wind whipping at me from all directions, slapping blonde hair in my face and making my clothes look as if they were alive and ready to be set free. I look down, down onto the furious-looking water from high above. The roaring waves crash into the side of the steep cliff and hit the jagged and pointed boulders below. Adrenaline flows through my blood for a split second, a warming sensation, and then, I'm gone. * * * The annoying, rhythmitic beeping won't stop and it's making my head ache, big time. I moan from the bright, flouresent light beaming into my awakening eyes overhead and a few voices whisper throughout the silent room. The light made me blind, I can't see the figures of the strange yet, extremely familiar people but, I could hear. Their feet shuffled closer to my limp body (that hurt like hell) and gradually, somebody whispered in my ear. I was still alive. God damnit. Confused expressions rose over the small crowd when I felt my eyes roll out of disappointment. I let out a long, tired sigh. "What's wrong, Liddy?" The usually panickey Peter sounded calm for once in his unexciting life. "Seriously, I-" That's not my voice. No, it's too hoarse and scratchy to be mine. It felt as if I had swallowed sandpaper. His pale, sea-green eyes almost bore a hole into my own, asking so many silent questions that will remain unanswered until we were alone. "Liddy? Olivia?" He spoke cautiously with a hint of worry, now, and took a step back from me, almost scared. "I think she's blacking out." "Oh, dear." The frantic voice sounded like my mother's. Only a little bit of care bubbled up inside of me for her and how she's doing but, I can't do anything. Everything became fuzzy and then, it all faded and vanished into the dark. We are in his old treehouse, catching up on the small things I don't really care for. Since I've recently gotten out of the hospital, Peter's been acting like my overprotective brother rather than a best friend. Though the bruises planted over my body are still tender, I think I need SOME freedom. I've been sitting on a ravaged but, comfortable, couch cushion for about an hour, and I was officially bored. Plus, Peter was out of news. We sat in silence, not making eye contact. "I'm sorry." He fiddled with a small toy soldier from his childhood. I still haven't forgave him. I know I should but, how? How could I? His head hung, so I could only look at the top of his short auburn hair, which his fingers would run through occasionly out of nervousness. "I don't understand how you could DO that, Peter. I specifically told you NOT to follow me." The frustration and my trust in him poured out of me through hot tears. "Please don't be that way." He tried to wipe my tears away but, I pushed him back. A hurt look came over his sweet, soft face. After a moment he finally whispered, "I saved your life, Olivia." Nothing changed. My feelings towards the subject remained the same. If anything, they got more fierce. "I didn't want rescuing." My eyes narrowed. "You're being stubborn." "I don't care." "I've known you for a long time, and I STILL haven't figured you out!" Trying to lighten the mood and being the lame geek he is, he chuckled and gave me a light poke to my gut. I glare at him. "I still haven't figured ME out..." I stand up, some of my joints pop and ache. Climbing up and down that damn wooden ladder is the worse part. Sorry - Peter scrambling after me is the worse part. I let out an annoyed sigh. He gripped my wrist with a firm hand. "Ow!" I took back my hand just as quickly and rubbed the pain away. I was still supposed to be under nurse supervision because I'm so fragile. "Oh my God, Liddy! I didn't mean to! I forgot!" He looked as if he were the one that was hurt. "It's fine, Peter." I turn to leave again. "But, still..." He jogged to catch up with me. He shook his head. "I seriously DON'T understand you." He gave me one of his confused looks. "Maybe I don't want you to." "Why not?" "Because maybe you'd be even more confused or something. You know, us girls, can be PRETTY complicated." I'm trying to get him to leave the main topic of my suicide attempt. Not working. Peter stopped dead in his tracks. Silly boy, probably can't think and walk at the same time. I stopped and faced him. "What is it now?" I spoke impatiently. He looked at me with dead-serious eyes that sent chills up my spine and made goosebumps grow on my bare arms. "You don't know how lucky you are, Olivia." But, those pointless words just went right through one ear and out the other with no pit stop for care in the middle. Or, so I thought. |