Status: let me know what you think of Zac and Cole :]
My Heart Will Go On
3
Zac holds my limp hand tight in his large warm hand, squeezing hard, as if I'm going to attempt to run away. I can't even move. I don't think I've blinked for a few minutes. I can't. Blinking would cause time to start again and I can't let that happen. This isn't real. My breath is caught in my throat. I feel Zac's soft lips press against my temple, warm tears landing on my shoulder and sliding down my arm.
I don't respond to anything going on around me, but stare blankly at the ocean. Everything comes flooding back to my mind.
I had fainted after telling Zac that something happened. I woke up in the office not long after. The principle told me that there was a call waiting for me from my grandma, but that I shouldn't talk at the time because I was in a fragile state. I had pulled the phone from his grip with such force as to almost knock him over. When I answered the phone, Grandma told me in a choked voice that my parents' plane had crashed, that they were presumed dead although no bodies had been recovered yet. That's when I dropped the phone and ran. Of course, Zac chased after me--not to stop me, but to sit in silence with me.
As I sit here I feel I am in a sort of a trance. I feel Zac's warm hand stroking my long caramel-colored hair. That's how Mom had described it when I asked her to tell me one of my most unique physical features for a poem I had to write for school. She also suggested my eyes, my dad's eyes. I lean on Zac's shoulder without really thinking about it. I guess I just need something to lean on and he's my rock now.
Do my siblings know? Or is the school trying to "protect" them?
No tears stain my face, my body is completely numb. How long have we been sitting here? The sky is growing dark. It was morning when we first sat out here. No one has bothered us and I'm thankful for that.
I feel Zac pull me back to lay down and rest my head on his lap. I feel his fingers gingerly twisting pieces of my hair. I can somewhat make out his face in the dark. It's gleaming with tears and there are dark lines on his forehead, like he's aged since the time I answered that dreadful phone call.
I hear someone padding through the soft sand. A tall figure comes into view, Lily. For the first time since I came out here, I move my body voluntarily to hold my arms out. I can see that Lily's been holding back tears, probably for our younger siblings. She falls into my arms sobbing on my chest. Her shoulders keep going up and down as she gasps for breath. Zac is hugging us, too and the three of us sit in the sand, Aac and Lily sobbing uncontrollably.
Why am I the only one who can't cry?
***
I don't respond to anything going on around me, but stare blankly at the ocean. Everything comes flooding back to my mind.
I had fainted after telling Zac that something happened. I woke up in the office not long after. The principle told me that there was a call waiting for me from my grandma, but that I shouldn't talk at the time because I was in a fragile state. I had pulled the phone from his grip with such force as to almost knock him over. When I answered the phone, Grandma told me in a choked voice that my parents' plane had crashed, that they were presumed dead although no bodies had been recovered yet. That's when I dropped the phone and ran. Of course, Zac chased after me--not to stop me, but to sit in silence with me.
As I sit here I feel I am in a sort of a trance. I feel Zac's warm hand stroking my long caramel-colored hair. That's how Mom had described it when I asked her to tell me one of my most unique physical features for a poem I had to write for school. She also suggested my eyes, my dad's eyes. I lean on Zac's shoulder without really thinking about it. I guess I just need something to lean on and he's my rock now.
Do my siblings know? Or is the school trying to "protect" them?
No tears stain my face, my body is completely numb. How long have we been sitting here? The sky is growing dark. It was morning when we first sat out here. No one has bothered us and I'm thankful for that.
I feel Zac pull me back to lay down and rest my head on his lap. I feel his fingers gingerly twisting pieces of my hair. I can somewhat make out his face in the dark. It's gleaming with tears and there are dark lines on his forehead, like he's aged since the time I answered that dreadful phone call.
I hear someone padding through the soft sand. A tall figure comes into view, Lily. For the first time since I came out here, I move my body voluntarily to hold my arms out. I can see that Lily's been holding back tears, probably for our younger siblings. She falls into my arms sobbing on my chest. Her shoulders keep going up and down as she gasps for breath. Zac is hugging us, too and the three of us sit in the sand, Aac and Lily sobbing uncontrollably.
Why am I the only one who can't cry?
***