You Only Get One Shot Do Not Miss Your Chance to Blow

Is it weird that the one thing that stood out in our fight was the fact that he called me Emily? He hadn’t called me that in a long, long time. What did that mean? What did his last few sentences mean?

I couldn’t know, so I locked myself in my room.

The next morning, I rose out of my room at ten, my new running time, like always. Hayley was sitting on the couch, “Hey! How was last night?”

I didn’t answer, and went straight out the door. I didn’t even want to think about last night. I ran a long time. I ran hard. I probably ran too long and way harder than I should have.

I love the feeling that I get when I run. The blood runs smoothly and my head is clear, I can think about anything, or nothing. Neither is hard to do. Usually I go on runs to think, but then while I was running, I would think about nothing. I tried to think about the problem that I wanted solving, but the only thing that would pop into my head was nothing.

Today I didn’t want to think of anything. I wanted that ‘nothing’ to appear in my head, but it was no where to be found. Images were running through my head and memories where filling my vision. I cursed myself for coming on this run. I thought it would help, clear my mind, and take my mind of things.

I ran past a flee market. I slowed my pace and looked at the stands set up. Maybe if I stapled on a price tag and slipped myself in one of the baskets, someone would buy me. I wanted to leave this life. Wasn’t that the whole point of Hayley and I leaving Minnesota? To get away from my family, but I got the complete opposite.

I stopped at a table with a girl about my age working it. There were baskets of jewelry and necklaces hanging all over. I picked up a bracelet and read what it said;

You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.

Something about the wristband caused a twang deep in my chest. I bought it. Maybe because I felt bad for the girl who was all alone in her booth and no one was buying anything from her, maybe it was because it was only two dollars, or maybe it was because Brendon actually made me feel guilty for once.

The girl thanked me and gave me a water, saying that I looked exhausted. I couldn’t argue, I was exhausted, but that didn’t stop me from heading home in the same and even a little faster pace than before.

When I made it back to my apartment, I was drenched in sweat and I could barley stand up. My legs felt like jell-o and my chest was burning from the lack of oxygen, but the worst part was I could barely see due to the faces of Brendon and Jon flashing in my vision.

I ran up the stairs, thighs killing and head throbbing, and ran in to my apartment. Hayley was still on the couch watching TV. “Ems? Hey you neve-- whoa! Are you alright?”

I threw off my shoes and staggered to my room. “Ems, you’re all pale and, whoa, can you walk?” Hayley said as she ran over to me, but I just ignored her and shut the door. I crashed to the floor and rolled onto my back and rested.

Hayley kept pestering me through the door. “Emily! What the hell! Open the door! Are you okay?! What was that crash?!” I didn’t have any effort to move my mouth so I grunted. “Emily Michelle! Was this from running?! God damn! Once you come out you are getting a beating!”

I groaned and rolled onto my stomach, Hayley wasn’t kidding. I knew I shouldn’t have run that hard. Last time I ran that hard was in high school.

“I’m calling Brendon,” Hayley declared through the door.

I sat up quickly, “No!” I sat up a little too swiftly, and became light headed so I laid back down.

“Come out then, Emily.” I didn’t answer. I heard her feet pad away from the door and I closed my eyes.

Hayley’s POV

When Emily burst through the door, she looked horrible. Her entire head was drenched in sweat and her body was shaking. That wasn’t even the worse part; her face was as whiter than a ghost. “Ems, you’re all pale and, whoa, can you walk?” She was headed to her room, swaying back and forth as she walked. I got up to follow her but she slammed the door in my face.

“Emily! What the hell! Open the door! Are you okay?! What was that crash?!” She didn’t answer. I jiggled the door handle, but it was locked.

The last time Emily did this was three years ago. She wasn’t eating right and would go on hour runs and get back and pass out everyday. She promised me she wouldn’t push herself that hard ever again.

She used to do that because she was stressed or scared. She promised me she wouldn’t do that to herself anymore. Which meant something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.

“Emily Michelle! What this from running?! God damn! Once you come out you are getting a beating!” I hated seeing her in pain. But I also hated when she punished herself by creating more pain.

I didn’t know what was bothering her, but she went out with Brendon last night, so I thought he would know. “I’m calling Brendon,” I said through the door.

“No!” I was surprised at her answer. Why didn’t she want Brendon to know?

“Come out then, Emily.” I didn’t get an answer so I went to call Brendon.

“Hello?”

“Hey Bren, It’s Hayley.”

“Yeah. Hi.” He sounded irritated.

“Um, can you come over?”

“Why. I’m kind of busy.” I surprised at this, usually he jumps at the chance to come over.

I hesitated, I didn’t want to irritate him anymore, “Well, it’s Emily.”

“Yeah.” he asked, bored.

“She,”

“What.”

“Something’s wrong…”

I heard a shuffle and he started to sound worried, “What? What’s wrong? Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

“Well I don’t know, she--”

“What? What?”he asked impatiently.

“Well she woke up and she didn’t talk, which was weird… anyways, then she went on a run. A long run--”

“Oh no,” he said sadly.

“Yeah, and she got back a mess and now she locked herself in her room and she won’t come out and I have no idea why and when I told her I was going to call you she freaked and yeah. What happened last night?” I heard Brendon mumble some profanities.

“Well, uh. We. W-We kind of got into a small fight...”

“Small?”

“Fine. A big fight.”

“Oh.” I put the pieces together.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,”he said urgently and then hung up with no goodbye.

Emily’s POV

I laid on the floor in my sweat drenched clothes for about an hour. I finally got my breathing under control, so I went to the bathroom to take a shower.

After my shower I left my hair wet to air dry and pulled on some scrubs. On my bed there was a bowl of Sponge-Bob macaroni with a juice box. I smiled and picked up the note by it.

Eat God Dammit!

I scarffed down my favorite lunch, and drank my juice box. I felt miserable. So I pulled out the tattered box under my bed, hoping for comfort.

Brendon’s POV

I couldn’t believe myself. I shouldn’t have let the last part of our conversation last night slip. It was a lie of course, but Emily didn’t know that.

“Guys, I need to go.”

“You just got here,” Ryan stated flatly.

“Yeah, but I need to go.”

“Whatever, call later then,” Ryan said annoyed. Annoyed that he couldn’t get us all together. Annoyed that all of had so many things to do. Annoyed that we couldn’t write a song. Annoyed at our scrapped songs.

I drove quickly over to Emily’s. I’d admit, I was angry at Emily, we had had arguments before, but not like this. I cringed as I thought back to last night, remembering how we were yelling at each other. I hated to think about the broken face Emily had as I drove away.

“Is she here?” I asked Hayley impatiently after she let me in.

“She hasn’t moved.” I nodded and slipped off my shoes, making my way over to her bedroom door.

I tapped lightly, “Emmy?”

No answer.

“Em? Please open up, it’s Bren.”

No answer.

I leaned my forehead against her door in defeat. “Hey, I’m sorry I said that last night. I was just caught up in the moment. I-I didn’t mean it. None of it.”

I heard movement and I perked up. “Emmy? Can you open the door? Please?”

Right on cue, the door handle twisted and the door swung open. I jumped back; I hadn’t expected her to actually do it. She stepped out, wearing black pants and her work shirt.

“Hey, Bren.” she mumbled sadly, looking briefly at me with broken eyes.

“Em?” I followed after her.

“I’m going to work, bye Hayls.” She turned to me and stiffly said goodbye.

She closed the front door and I let my shoulders droop.

“Jeez, what did you do?” Hayley joked, walking out of the kitchen.

I acknowledged her with a grunt, walking into her room. The room wasn’t right. Usually it was cleaned and, well, Emily. But now, her bed wasn’t made and clothes were thrown everywhere. It didn’t bug me at all that it wasn’t perfect, but I was surprised, and it made me wonder if this was actually who she was. I didn’t want to think about her putting on the show of, being put together, but it couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t.

When I looked around the room, it seemed so much more her. It was disarrayed chaotic, not put together and neat. I like this better.

I looked around some more, and I couldn’t ignore her floor, cluttered with books.

I picked one up and noticed it was in her handwriting. I flipped through it. It was full with all her writing, and I felt kind of bad for intruding on what was obviously her journals.

“You found her journals. You’re brave,” Hayley said leaning against Emily’s doorframe with arms crossed.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh she’s never told you about them?” I shook my head. “Well, she’s filled those books with every feeling she’s ever had, every bruise she ever got, every scream she ever let out, right there, in those books.” She came over and picked up a journal. “I’ve never looked in one, I don’t want to. I think it would scare me too much.” She set the journal in my hand and walked out.

I looked down at the journals in my hand. Should I look in them? I thought it might be invading her privacy, but I was curious. But then I thought about what Hayley said. It was understandable that she didn’t want to read the journals. Hayley was there and saw some of the things Emily went through, so she didn’t want to see more.

Me on the other hand, I’ve never saw and I’ve barley heard about what happened. Once in a while Emily would tell me how she got a scar or a story about her parents. But she never got into detail about it. I never pressed, because I knew it was one of the things she didn’t want to tell me.

This was my chance to see. I contemplated some more, then finally opened to the first journal entry.

---

I put down the third journal. It was almost midnight. I was disgusted. More than disgusted, I wanted to go hunt down her father and beat the shit out of him. I wanted to go find Jon and knock some sense into him. I wanted to run to Emily and hug and hold her, letting her know someone was there for her.

I don’t know how to even describe what I read. I read things that made my face boil so much I thought I might explode. And then I read things that made my eyes tear up.

She started out to innocent, so naïve. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how she dealt with this. No wonder she froze up in her room, no wonder she can’t stand to sit next to Jon.

I realized now. I think I had it all figured out. She tried to ignore her past by coming to Vegas, trying to hide her discomfort. Not because she thought she was a brick wall, but because she didn’t have any bricks from her wall left to protect her. I had gotten it all wrong last night, and I hated myself for that.

I flipped through her numerous pictures, smiling seeing her smile.

“Brendon?” I heard a sweet voice travel from the door.

“Oh, uh,” I slammed the photo book closed, not knowing how long she had been standing there. I looked around me; Emily’s journals were scattered around me and her box was emptied out by me too. “Uh, hey Emmy,” I said uneasily.

She came and took a seat next to me. I could smell her fruity pear smell through the stench of beer and smoke. I pulled her into me and kissed her forehead. “I’m such an idiot,” I mumbled into her wavy brown hair.

She laughed lightly, “No, you’re just clueless,” she joked and kissed my nose.