So I Need You

"He's leaving, in two days. Two days Justin, I can't even stand it."

I let my shoulders fall, sighing in defeat. "I might not see him for a year. I can barely digest the thought of a month without him. God, who am I? I'm not the same girl I was before. It's pretty ironic that I should be complaining about that though, isn't it?"

I hugged my knees to my chest, "It's so bittersweet...you know? I mean, Joe makes me feel so incredible. I've never felt this way before, I've never come close to this. He's the only one who knows exactly what to say, at exactly the right time...Yet something still feels wrong. Isn't it selfish for me to want him to stay? I mean, I care about him so much. I want this for him, I really do, but I can't help hating that he'll be gone. I don't want him to go, and it's killing me."

I sighed heavily, trailing my finger along the freshly cut grass, "I cannot believe I am about to say this Justin, but I don't think there is any other explanation for it. I think, it may be a possibility, that I might be...that just maybe...I could be in lo-"

I bit my lip, holding back the words I so desperately needed to let out.

I shut my eyes tight, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "I can't do this," I breathed, "I just, I can't."

I dug my face in my hands, my shoulders falling up and down as unwanted sobs took control of me. I was scared, I was hurting. Everything seemed to be slipping away, from right under my fingertips. Joe would be gone in two days, and there was nothing I could say, nothing I could do, to change that.

He was the only steady thing in my life. He had been the only one to break down my defenses, my impenetrable walls. He gave me a shoulder to cry on, a rock to lean on, a hope to turn to.

He walked into my life, and so greedily stole my heart. But more than that, my independence. I once had but myself to lean on, and he changed that.

With him...I was whole again.

►►►►

I sat in a daze, my head resting on my hand.

"Elbows off the table!" my father barked, watching for yet another mistake I could make.

My mother remained quiet, behaving obediently.

"Yes sir," I replied meekly. I was in no mood to argue.

It was silent around the table, nothing but the sound the cutlery scraping against the plates. There had definitely been less screaming in the house lately, yet the atmosphere remained dead and cold. We were no longer a family.

It had long been since we could even be considered civilized. There was no love, no compassion. None of the emotions a normal family held. Where most families would've grown stronger, ours had drifted apart.

The tragedy had effected us far too severely to even consider a reconciliation. All the hateful words, the physical and emotional beatings. Too much had been said and done, and there was no turning back.

"Why are you chewing so loudly?" he groaned angrily, slamming his fist down on the table.

I looked down at my plat in confusion. I was chewing too loudly...yet I had yet to take a bite of my food. It was then that I started to wonder if my father was mentally ill. If maybe, just maybe...he was going crazy.

"I- uh I...I'm sorry?"

He glared angrily, as though weighing his options. He could attack me now, or he could wait to make it all the more anticipating.

Either way, the truth of it was, I wouldn't leave the table without a scar tonight. I'd feel his wrath, and there was absolutely no stopping him.

He let his fork drop, clattering loudly against the ceramic plate. "You're sorry?" he asked, dangerously low. "Sorry? Is that it?"

Scratch that, I was convinced. My father had officially gone mad.

He stood up, pushing his chair back forcefully. "Every fucking night I come home to this shit! But it's OK Marina, it doesn't matter, because she's sorry! You prance around, like you're better than your mother and I. Is that what you think Elizabeth? Is that what it is?"

"N-no sir," I stammered, my heart racing wildly.

Every step he took, every word he spoke, only brought me closer to the conclusion that he was completely insane. Nothing he said made sense anymore, and I was oblivious as to how I should respond.

"Because, you know what that means Elizabeth, don't you?"

My eyes wavered, as I tried to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with manic, frightening me to no ends.

"That means," he continued, all the more loudly, "that I'll have to show you, just how worthless you are. Do you know what that means, Elizabeth? Because believe me you, I have absolutely no problem demonstrating."

I nodded fearfully, my gaze flickering to my mother's horrified face, still no words finding their way to her. Sometimes I wondered how she could look herself in the mirror.

"Look at me when I'm speaking!" he demanded, threateningly.

I trembled slightly under his glare. It was like those moments when someone felt they were living their last few moments. My mind, however flooded with fear, was drawn to Joe. As completely ridiculous as it seemed, even to me, the image of his face made everything in that moment seem so durable.

He pulled his arm back, only to let his hand collide with the side of my face. I cringed as the burning sensation brought tears to my eyes.

"Jeffrey!" my mother screamed, darting from her seat. She ran around the table, grasping his arm forcefully. "Stop this, right now!"

"Get your hands off of me Marina, this is none of your concern!"

"Don't touch my daughter!" she seethed angrily, her lethal gaze never wavering.

He shrugged her arm off aggressively, "Excuse me? Your daughter."

"That's right!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "My daughter, get your hands off of her! I don't ever want you touching her again, am I understood? I've put up with your shit long enough Jeffrey, don't think I won't call the police. I have absolutely no problem with doing it! Just you test me."

I stared in shock, as my mom screamed in outrage. It had been her first outburst, her first hysteric since the death of her son. I'd never in my life seen her in state she was in, and I couldn't deny it. I was welled up with pride.

"I'm your husband," he breathed raggedly, "you won't do anything of the sort. I know you Marina, I know you too well."

"You don't know a thing!" she whispered harshly, "And mark my-"

She stopped, her eyes flickering in a different direction for a moment. "Jeffrey," she began dangerously, "where is your wedding ring?"

My father glanced down at his hand for a moment, his eyes completely void of emotion.

"Where is it?" she repeated.

He let out a yell of outrage, grabbing either side of the table and flipping it over effortlessly. The sound of shattering glass and ceramic, accompanied by my yell of shock sounded around the room.

I watched, like an outsider, as my father barged out of the kitchen, my mother running after him fiercely. The kitchen was a disaster, shards of broken glass laid across the floor. I couldn't help notice how the mess reflected so deeply on our family : so utterly broken.

I rested my hand against the wall, steadying myself as sobs racked my body. My parents' screams could be heard from a floor above, their words and voices growing harsher by the moment.

I ran for the patio door, letting myself out quickly. I glanced around, checking my surroundings. All life outside my home seemed so civil, so at peace. The one place I should have felt safe in, was like my own personal war zone.

There was only one place I felt safe.

I heard another scream from the upper level of my house, and I set off in a run. My feet carrying me to the only place I ever wanted to be.

With the boy I was in love with.