THE SHELL THAT housed what was left of me was thinning quickly. The bruises on the outside were turning a musty shade of yellow, ready to disappear, but I was certain the marks on the inside would remain forever. They were deeper than ever this time.
Jace told Sandra and Jessie, my closest friends here, that I’d decided to take a vacation to clear my head of the breakup with Blake and they bought it. Other than Jace, I had spent my days alone, but those days were limited. I needed to start my new semester. It was bad enough I’d missed the first week.
Every day, I asked how Blake was, and every day Jace would look away and change the topic. I was beginning to think there was something he didn’t want me to know. My insides ached for Blake in a way I never could have imagined possible. If I thought I was the walking dead before, now I truly was, as I drifted without a soul. With nothing to live for.
When Damon tried to take my body that day, he’d taken everything inside of me with it. Made every memory meaningless, all of my growth pointless. Like a vacuum, he’d siphoned it all out, leaving me this. Whatever this was.
I rolled from the bed, scrubbing my face. I needed to purge some of the venom from my system. Walking to my desk, I pulled open the drawer. Two books stared back at me. One holding love, the other—misery. My heart crumpled a little as I took the journal Blake had given me in my hands, careful not to open it, not wanting to be reminded of what I’d lost.
With a loud shriek, I whipped my arm, throwing Blake’s journal. It skidded across the floor, burying itself under my bed. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I pulled my real journal from where it had been hiding for the last month. This was the real me—tattered and fraying edges, worn and abused. Not the imposter I was gifted in the hopes I could be, pristine and sparkling. New and shiny. Mirroring an angel when it was the devil coursing through my veins.
Who asks for this fate? Who betrays their flesh and blood?
I had taken what didn’t belong to me all those years ago, and now he would repeatedly take what didn’t belong to him. And I’d pay. Forever. But that’s what I deserved. I’d take my punishment for betraying the person who mattered to me the most.
Sitting on the couch, I drew one leg beneath me. My fingers flicked the worn pages, moving to the first blank one. I stared down at it for a moment, knowing how quickly my heart would fill the pristine white college-ruled lines with a glimpse of what was inside. And then my hand took over.
Pieces of Broken
Broken
On the inside
I bend and scoop up the shards
Pricking my finger, they leave streaks of crimson in their wake
Pieces
Shattered Pieces
Jagged and strewn about without rhyme or reason
I look around and try to make sense of it
Pieces of me
Whoever me is.
Is there a me? Was there ever?
Pieces upon pieces
Broken little pieces
Hurting little bits, crying out in pain
I listen to their screaming cries and tears fall, knowing I can’t fix them
I am the broken
I am the pieces
All sorts of pieces of broken
Scattered and ashamed
Lifeless and mourning
Trapped and unfixable
Broken
Pieces
Of
Me
If there is a me
I tossed that book, too, and fell to my side, letting my tears bleed into the cushions.
Clarity swam somewhere within me, wading through my tears, begging for me to notice it, but despair drowned out its voice. Subtle, yet probing, it tugged at me, the beginning of a battle brewing inside. I knew I needed to pull out of this, but I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have it in me yet to choose who would rise to the top.
I cried until the blackness came to collect me once again.
“How is he, Jace?” I tucked my knees under my chin and stared at my best friend.
He opened the refrigerator and ducked his head inside, avoiding my question. “Have you called that number on the card I left you?”
I lifted my head, dropping my feet to the floor, finally putting force behind my voice. “Stop avoiding my question.”
Jace slammed the refrigerator shut and spun around with fire in his eyes. “Stop avoiding mine!”
The doctor’s card had taunted me for days, right where he had dropped it on my kitchen bar. My gaze would move to it every time I walked by, but I never actually touched it even though I kept feeling like it was reaching out and grabbing at me. It was annoying.
We had a staring standoff before I spoke, choosing my words carefully. “I will. When I’m ready.”
“Eeenh!” He made the sound of a buzzer, signaling the wrong answer.
Without even looking at it, he swiped his hand to the side as he walked by, lifting the hard paper from the counter. He marched over to me and plucked my phone from the table. His thumbs worked furiously over the buttons as he programmed the number in, his finger hovering over the send button.
“You wanna call, or should I?”
I stood, grabbing the phone from him. “Stop pressuring me!”
“Evangelina, you’re really trying my patience. I’m trying really, really hard to be gentle with you. And I don’t do gentle. Ask around.” He wagged a finger in my face. “I let you fester in your own filth for two whole weeks while you beat yourself up, and even agreed not to tell your family you’d been hospitalized! I did what you asked and gave you time. Well, time’s up, sweetheart. I’m done. Make the fucking appointment, or I’m walking away from you.”
It felt like his open palm had left a stinging mark on my cheek. In all our years as best friends, Jace had never given up on me. I couldn’t lose him, too. My lips began to tremble, and I wanted to kick myself for showing weakness.
He took me by my shoulders with a squeezing tug. “You need to talk to someone. Someone besides me who can help you. Period. Now are you calling, or am I?”
“I’ll do it,” I whispered, not trusting my eyes to hold back the tears.
Jace loosened his grip. “There’s my Eva.” The creases around his eyes smoothed out as a warm smile coated his face.
I sat, worrying a piece of hair across my lips as a soft voice answered the line. I made the appointment. Pushing end, I placed the phone beside me and looked up at Jace. With a smile, he blew me a kiss. I didn’t return his smile. I wrapped my arms around my knees and focused on his eyes.
“How is he, Jace?”
The upturn of his lips melted to a frown, dulling the brightness in his eyes. He fingered a small cut by his jaw that I hadn’t noticed before and looked away, leaving my question unanswered . . .
Again.