Keep the Faith

She sat, perched on her heels, on her bed, crying her baby blues out. She heard her name being called, her name being screamed. She couldn’t do anything, though. She knew that, and so did he. He had to.

There was nothing she could do, and it tore her apart.

Two sets of heart wrenching sobs could be heard from the house—one from the first floor and one from the second, both filled with pain.

“Please, stop it…” Both begged. She couldn’t bear to hear her name, and he couldn’t bear the pain that she wasn’t coming.

Didn’t she love him?
Of course she loved him. There was just nothing she could do.

The screaming was too much for her to handle. She curled herself into a ball, rocking herself back and forth. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t do it.

“I can’t do this anymore…” She sobbed to herself. She couldn’t bear to hear the screams constantly. They tore at her, making her physically sick.

She couldn’t do it.

She was afraid to leave the room. Afraid he would see her, and scream twice as loud, hope filling his eyes, only to be let down when she would head to the bathroom, and kneel before the toilet.

She couldn’t do that to him.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She sped over to her garbage pail, emptying the contents of her stomach. She laid on the floor, crying her baby blues out, her throat and nose burning, her stomach shaking. She cautiously made her way back to her bed, lying on her side.

She needed inspiration. She needed motivation. She needed the voices, the guitars, the drums, the base. She needed the words.

She reached next to her, grabbing her iPod and shoving the ear phones so deep into her ears, she was sure they would bleed.

Turning it as loud as she could, she let words of hope flow through her ears, her mind. Blocking out the screams, numbing her to the pain, reminding her that everything would be okay in the end.