I Hate To Be The One To Bear The Bad News

I now know how Bella Swan felt when she lost Edward.

I always made fun of those movies, but her heart break was realistic.

I didn't break down in the middle of the woods, but I've been dry heaving for six hours.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He's really gone. Four years, I can't wait that long. The love of my life, taken in handcuffs, right in front of my fucking face. There wasn't anything I could do. I tried to tell him! I couldn't do anything! They were going to find him no matter how far we ran together. He will never forgive me.

He hates me.

He came to me the night before he got arrested, high as a kite, begging for me to run away with him. I couldn't. I couldn't leave my home, my mom, my friends. I couldn't put my life on the line for Ronnie to run away from his problems.

I shivered under my blue striped quilt my mother had made me when I was a child.

I hadn't paid the bills, its been two weeks without Ronnie, and two weeks without heat. I could feel my lips cracking from the cold December wind that was drifting its way into my bedroom. I didn't care. Why should I? I deserve to die, cold, alone, and dry.

Especially alone.

Friends came and went, said they couldn't see me like this. The usual. My mom, the only person who would stay longer then an hour, she helped me a lot, as much as anyone could help me through this heartbreak.

I couldn't stop the stray tears that leaked from my eyes.

My cheeks were burning from me wiping the tears off so much. Can I live like this? 20 Years old, alone, heart broken, for four years? Where would we start off when he got out? It wouldn't be the same.. He wouldn't be the same. We wouldn't be the same.

My stomach started to ache from the emptiness, literally. I hadn't eaten in three days. I think its about time I eat a piece of toast before I dry heaved some more. Then I can wallow in my misery for another couple of days.

Move Delia, get up.

When I stood up, I almost fell.. I barely get up to walk around, use the restroom, I don't move. The hardwood floor felt ice cold on my bare feet. It sent shivers up my spine..

*Ring!Ring!Ring!* "Call from Max" *Ring!Ring!Ring!* "Call from Max"

I almost jumped out of my skin when the house phone rang

Max? Since when does he call my house, to speak to me? Maybe he needs something of.. Ronnie's. Maybe he's hurting just as much as me. Should I answer it?

"Call from Max"

I reached my arm out to the nightstand and picked the cold, black phone up.

"H-Hello?" Dear God.. that's the first time I heard my voice in days. I sounded like a thirty year old who's been smoking since she was fifteen.

"Delia? You sound awful.. sorry, that was rude, how are you?"

I took in as much air as my lungs could take in, "I'm good-" Lie.

"How are you?" I hope he was better then me, then again, why shouldn't he lie as well?

"Miserable. I miss him so much, D-delia." Was Maxwell Green, crying? on the phone? To.. me? He should be.

We've never been amazing friends. I didn't like to be to involved with Ronnie's drug pal. Its practically his fault Ronnie was in jail in the first place.. I won't hold a grudge though. Not enough time in the world.

When Max wasn't high, he was sweet. Good looking. Jet black hair, nose ring, snakebites, the normal punked out kid. He was much prettier then Ronnie, his face was almost like a porcelain dolls. He played bass in Escape The Fate, with Ronnie's other friends and band mates.

"I know that. How do you think I feel?" I clenched my fist with as much strength I had. He was selfish.

"I'm sorry. Its my fault, I know. I feel more guilty then you could ever fucking imagine. I wanted to apologize, in person, please. And pick up a couple things I kept at your house. If that's alright.... Today's the first day I actually made an effort to talk to anyone."

Why did I feel guilty for being rude to him? I shouldn't feel guilty..He sounded pretty damn sincere. Why not.

"We have something in common after all. I look like the walking dead, but you can come over for a while." I shifted around, my legs were getting weak again. I really should eat something, shower maybe.

"I doubt I look any better. I'll be there in a while, thanks, Dee" Then he was gone.

I clicked the red button and hung the phone back up, walking into my bathroom. It was connected to my bedroom, Ronnie liked the idea. We redid our house together, it was a long process but worth it. Everything was perfect, and now it seemed like I was living in a strangers home. Pictures of us still hung on the pale blue walls of the bedroom, I miss him.

--

The warm water stung my hands when I turned the shower on.

Brace for impact.

I leaned my fragile body against the sink, catching a glimpse of myself. Looking in the mirror made me want to cry even more. I looked like death, hair a mess, lips blue, skin dry.

I touched my collar bone that was sticking farther out then it usually does. I followed the length of the bone until I reached my nightgown strap that fell loosely down my shoulder.

Pulling the rest of my nighty off, I slowly stepped into the hot shower. It felt like my skin was burning right off the bone. A tear slipped from my eye.

This is going to be a long shower.