Emily

“Crunch, crunch,” the sound the dry dead leaves made as they were stood on by Emily’s small feet, as she walked down the footpath. The wind easily blew the empty satchel on her back, as she moved. She strode into a park, the trees that used to glow a bright green, a dark and depressing mix of browns and oranges. Leaves covered the ground, making it impossible to walk silently. The sun was hidden behind the overcast sky, casting subtle shadows along the damp ground.
Emily ventured off the path on a slight angle, making a ‘V’ line to a tall oak tree off in one corner. She shivered as a gust of freezing wind blew; it sent goose bumps up her spine. She slung her bag off her shoulder and slumped down to sit, cross legged under the tree. The leaves crunched as she did so. She carefully reached into her bag, and pulled out her iPod, she placed the ear buds in her ear and turned on her iPod to her favorite band, All Time Low. Lying there, listening to music, allowed her mind to forget about the last couple days. The sun moved past the clouds and shone down, onto her legs. A glaring reflection, struck her eye. She sat up, and reached out, to find the source, throwing the dead leaves around. Then he hand touched it, the familiar feeling of a CD case. Curious she lifted it, to find out what it was. In the front cover was a white note that read, ‘I knew you’d come here.’ She raised an eyebrow whimsically, she opened the case, on the inside cover was an old Polaroid picture, of her and her boyfriend together, smiling. Once again, the horrifying memories were washed away, leaving only the good ones. She longed to feel that again, the happiness. But she knew she wouldn’t. Not without him. She stood up and slipped the CD case into her satchel. Her jeans wet from the soggy ground, slowly she walked towards the exit of the park, her tears gone, a slight smile on her face, she was going to play the CD as soon as she got home.

Emily pushed open the old wooden door. She walked inside being as quite as possible, not wanting another fight, with her foster mum. She walked upstairs and silently entered her bedroom, closing the door behind her; a cold musty smile greeted her. She sighed, and began looking for her old Walkman. Throwing papers and dirty clothes onto the floor, she disturbed the thin layer of dust which had settled on the surfaces in her room. She smiled happily as she found her Walkman. She sat down on her creaky bed, and opened the tray, placed the CD, in and closed it. She grabbed her headphones from her iPod, and put them in her Walkman. Turning it on and starting it, she lay back. She started to cry, it was a mix tape that, he’d made for her before he ended it all.

He had recorded a message for her, telling her “I’m sorry, but, you have to understand, it was too much, you were the only good thing in my life, and I felt like I was hurting you, by being so bitter,” she listened to the whole CD through three times.

She then stood up and walked into the bathroom. She stripped out of her wet clothes, and climbed into the shower, not bothering to let it warm. She shivered as the cold water, beat against her skin. He had cared. He had tried. She spent ages in the shower, washing herself repeatedly. It was like she was trying to wash away something not physical, but emotional. Like she was trying to wash away the pain, and the guilt, so she could function. She climbed out of the shower and dried herself off. She felt suddenly clear, she was going to make something of her life, but where she was going to start, she didn’t know.