Status: finished :)
Different
Page Nine
I’m such a fucking idiot! I should have known I wasn’t good enough. It was all there. How didn’t I see it? It was obvious! Why else would Cami get so mad at Stevie? She’d never gotten like that with my other boyfriends. I should have known they were messing around. God! I’m stupid.
Through his internal rant Marone was storming through his house, grabbing everything that reminded him of Stephen or Camille and destroying it all. He didn’t want to think of them and their lies ever again. And his house was full of memories. Clothes, photos, presents, music, even books. There were just too many memories.
He ripped, burnt, cut, and slashed everything that had anything to do with Stephen or Camille. Soaking the memories in his tears before throwing them in the trashcan. At last everything was gone, and all he had to do was take the trash out. And as he looked around the house, he realized just how barren his home, and his life, was without them.
The pictures with Stephen and Camille were the only pictures of him he or his parents owned. So looking around and seeing no evidence of himself he couldn’t help but think just how much he needed the two to live. His heart ached as he dragged his body up the stairs, preparing to lie down and cry until he couldn’t anymore.
One day I’ll learn.
Those were the last conscious, understandable thoughts Marone had before he succumbed to his emotions. His tears soaked the pillow. His sobs filled the air. His questions of “why” and “how could they” echoed in the room. And through it all he failed to notice his phone being attacked with calls and text messages from Stephen and Camille, but mostly Stephen.
Through his internal rant Marone was storming through his house, grabbing everything that reminded him of Stephen or Camille and destroying it all. He didn’t want to think of them and their lies ever again. And his house was full of memories. Clothes, photos, presents, music, even books. There were just too many memories.
He ripped, burnt, cut, and slashed everything that had anything to do with Stephen or Camille. Soaking the memories in his tears before throwing them in the trashcan. At last everything was gone, and all he had to do was take the trash out. And as he looked around the house, he realized just how barren his home, and his life, was without them.
The pictures with Stephen and Camille were the only pictures of him he or his parents owned. So looking around and seeing no evidence of himself he couldn’t help but think just how much he needed the two to live. His heart ached as he dragged his body up the stairs, preparing to lie down and cry until he couldn’t anymore.
One day I’ll learn.
Those were the last conscious, understandable thoughts Marone had before he succumbed to his emotions. His tears soaked the pillow. His sobs filled the air. His questions of “why” and “how could they” echoed in the room. And through it all he failed to notice his phone being attacked with calls and text messages from Stephen and Camille, but mostly Stephen.