Stitches

The days were as bleak as the nights without Brooklyn. I stared at the ceiling in my bedroom, it was a swirling mess of white and gray. My arm hung over the bed, heavy from the weight of half a bottle of jack daniels.

I sat the bottle down on the floor and sat up in the bed. My legs were folded underneath me in an uncomfortable fashion. This discomfort had nothing on the gaping wound in my chest. She had ripped my heart out with her bare hands.

I ran my hands through my hair and fought back the urge to burst into a fit of sobs. I reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed the bottle of alcohol and sat it in the gap between my legs.

The door creaked open, Matt stood on the other side. His face held a stern authority; I knew what was coming. He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb.

“You can’t be like this forever.” He said with regret dripping from each guilt inducing word that slithered from his lungs.

I laughed, “Yeah, what-ever.”

“I’m not sure why you think that sitting here moping is going to help anything but whatever the reason, you’re wrong. You have to get out and just carry on.” Matt tried his best to seem sympathetic but I knew he had not a clue how it felt.

“I loved her Matt, I can’t just ‘carry on’.”

“What, Oli? Are you just gonna sit here and rot in this apartment?” He had finally become angry, he threw his arms up in defeat.

“Rotting would be a hell of a lot better than trying to live without her.” I yelled.

Matt scoffed and walked out, slamming the door behind him. It just slammed against the frame and swung open.

From my seat on the bed I could see Lola sitting at the bar, her black hair was pulled into two cheerful pigtails but the expression on her face was distraught.

Matt shook his head, “He won’t listen to me.”

She frowned and stared at her hands for a moment before looking up, “You have to do something, I can’t stand to see him like this.”

She seemed so sad.

“I can’t do anything.” Matt said then walked out of the room.

---

The nightlife in England is an acquired taste. I hastily pushed my way into the coffee shop, nights were colder and rainier than the days. It was quiet, except for a few couples sitting at their tables. I quietly envied them as I ordered my drink.

I glanced around the room, waiting as the woman prepared a cappuccino. I slight motion from the couple at the back table triggered my attention to flicker toward them.

It was her]. She stared at the table, her lips drawn into a frown as they never should have been. At the opposite side of the table sat Eddie. His crusty leather jacket and greasy hair made me cringe. Watching the two of them was like watching and angel dance with the devil.

Brooklyn spoke quietly to Eddie, I tried not to stare as she stood up from the table and walked towards me, leaving an angry looking Eddie behind. I quickly grabbed my coffee from the counter and walked out of the resturant. I couldn’t stand to look at her. I couldn’t stand to fight the urge to touch her perfect skin, to kiss her, anything with her. For the split second between us it was more than I could stand.

“Oli!” Brooklyn called out as she chased after me. It took every ounce of my strength to ignore her. She grabbed my arm, I stopped walking and jerked my arm from her grip.

“What do you want from me?” I spat malicious words at her, in my mind she deserved nothing less.

“I miss you.” She whispered as if she were shameful.

I narrowed my eyes and scoffed, “Okay, I know what you want. You want to make the rest of my life miserable as well, because I can’t stand to hear you say that. I can’t be around you, I can’t talk to you. Nothing, Brooke, do you get it? This, right here, is killing me.”

Her lip quivered and a tear fell down her cheek. I didn’t feel guilty, she’d made me cry more than that. Whatever she felt; I felt times ten.

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn. That’s alright because I like the way it hurts. Just gonna stand there and hear me cry, that’s okay because I love the way you lie.

She stood there directly across from me, completely silent. I sighed and bit my lip to refrain from letting every pitiful plea fall from my lips.

Brooke stepped closer to me and I stepped back, “Don’t do this, please.”

At the exact moment that her body collided with mine Eddie burst from the coffee shop, his black eyes filled with anger.

“What the fuck are you doing, with my girl?!” Eddie yelled, ripping Brooklyn from me. She went flying backwards.

The words ”my girl” sent a cold chill down my spine. I didn’t know how to answer that question. I wanted to punch him in the mouth. I wanted to make him eat those words. So that’s what I did. Before I could catch myself I dropped my coffee and my fist collided with his cold clammy skin.

Every ounce of anger and jealousy poured out through my fists, I couldn’t stop hitting him.

“Oli, stop!” Brooklyn yelled, she pulled me away from him. My chest heaved with each exhausted breath I took.

Eddie lay lifeless on the pavement.

You know what the sick part is? I didn’t stop to see if he was still alive. I didn’t care if I took his last breath, as far as I was concerned he got what he fucking deserved.