Be Together for One More Night
Dark Circles
I left Isla as soon as her mom and Brian showed up. I hated being around her so-called parents. Her mother spent her time either at work, nursing her hangovers and feeling sorry for herself, drinking herself into an early grave or receiving nightly beatings from Brian. Brian, spent his time at work, or he was out with some woman he'd managed to pick up, or he was at home beating his wife and step daughter. The memories of the times I'd sat with Isla in her room whilst they argued, stabbed through my chest. I hated that she had to live in that sort of environment. She was sweet, kind and gentle, and she was no match for big, burly, balding Brian.
Although, I knew she was safe in the hospital. Her mother appeared to be half sober and Brian wasn't wearing his usual scowl or sinister glare. They'd be kicked out the second they started any sort of commotion anyway.
I chose to walk home. Letting the wind whip against my bare skin. It stung at times, but the slight pain was helping me forget myself. I was contemplating throwing myself on the ground and knocking my head against the pavement, until I couldn't remember my huge fuck up. It had cost me a lot, yet now she didn't remember.
So maybe, I hadn't fucked up. Maybe, I had, but I hadn't.
I finally reached my house, to see my mother staring out of the window, probably waiting for me to return. I had been out since five thirty yesterday evening.
The second my foot stepped through the gate, the front door was flung open and my mom was stood on the porch, her arms folded, dark circles decorating her eyes and her hair was tangled, from her running her hand through it too many times. "Kyle, where have you been all this time?"
You wouldn't think I was twenty years old with her questioning, and how much she still worries about me. She needn't. I can take care of myself.
I sighed heavily. "Restaurant, then I went for a walk, then I went to a party and then the hospital, and here I am now."
"Hospital?" I'd reached her by now and her expression was panicked. "Why what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, it was Isla, but she's fine."
"Isla, oh my god, is she okay?"
"Mom. Isla's fine, okay? They'll probably let her out tonight." I moved past her and stepped into the house, slipping my feet from my shoes and attempting to head upstairs to bed. I desperately needed rest.
"What happened to her, and how did everything go?"
"It went shit. I fucked up, majorly. She said no, and then walked off and left me like a complete idiot, still holding the damn ring out, like she was still there. I hate myself. Then I went for a walk to clear my head, and came across a house party and I went in to see what it was like and Isla was there, and she fell down the stairs and hit her head, so I took her to the hospital."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
I shrugged. "It's fine. I don't care anymore, she doesn't want me, so what can I do?" With those final words I jogged up the stairs and headed to my bedroom.
I slumped on my bed, not having the energy to take off my clothes and get into bed. So I just laid staring across at the wall of photographs of myself and Isla. One fucking year. Wasted.
A knock on my bedroom door averted my attention to the wood and Marc stuck his head inside my room, a grin on his face. "How'd it go? Am I going to be a page boy?"
I grabbed the remote control that was for my DVD player and aimed it at his head. It missed miserably and hit the wall above his head, falling the floor with a clatter, the two batteries in the back sliding out.
"I'll take that as a no then," he sighed, stepping inside and picking up my remote, putting all the pieces back together and placing it on top of my TV. "What happened then?"
"She said no, left me there like a fool, then went to some house party with Turman, he gave her some drugs, which she took, she fell down the stairs, I took her to the hospital and now she can't remember me."
"Huh?"
"Memory loss Marc! She hit her head pretty hard."
"Oh. Then why don't you just ask her again?"
"What?"
"Kyle, if she can't remember you then she can't remember what you did. So the last year hasn't been totally wasted, you could work this to your advantage. Ask her out, make sure you don't screw a thing up, you know what she likes and doesn't like, so it won't be hard."
I shook my head. "No, no, I can't do that to her. I can't take advantage of her like that."
He shrugged. "It's up to you, but I know you love her and you don't wanna lose her and this could be your only chance." He left me alone, those words buzzing around my mind.
Maybe, I could.
Although, I knew she was safe in the hospital. Her mother appeared to be half sober and Brian wasn't wearing his usual scowl or sinister glare. They'd be kicked out the second they started any sort of commotion anyway.
I chose to walk home. Letting the wind whip against my bare skin. It stung at times, but the slight pain was helping me forget myself. I was contemplating throwing myself on the ground and knocking my head against the pavement, until I couldn't remember my huge fuck up. It had cost me a lot, yet now she didn't remember.
So maybe, I hadn't fucked up. Maybe, I had, but I hadn't.
I finally reached my house, to see my mother staring out of the window, probably waiting for me to return. I had been out since five thirty yesterday evening.
The second my foot stepped through the gate, the front door was flung open and my mom was stood on the porch, her arms folded, dark circles decorating her eyes and her hair was tangled, from her running her hand through it too many times. "Kyle, where have you been all this time?"
You wouldn't think I was twenty years old with her questioning, and how much she still worries about me. She needn't. I can take care of myself.
I sighed heavily. "Restaurant, then I went for a walk, then I went to a party and then the hospital, and here I am now."
"Hospital?" I'd reached her by now and her expression was panicked. "Why what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, it was Isla, but she's fine."
"Isla, oh my god, is she okay?"
"Mom. Isla's fine, okay? They'll probably let her out tonight." I moved past her and stepped into the house, slipping my feet from my shoes and attempting to head upstairs to bed. I desperately needed rest.
"What happened to her, and how did everything go?"
"It went shit. I fucked up, majorly. She said no, and then walked off and left me like a complete idiot, still holding the damn ring out, like she was still there. I hate myself. Then I went for a walk to clear my head, and came across a house party and I went in to see what it was like and Isla was there, and she fell down the stairs and hit her head, so I took her to the hospital."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
I shrugged. "It's fine. I don't care anymore, she doesn't want me, so what can I do?" With those final words I jogged up the stairs and headed to my bedroom.
I slumped on my bed, not having the energy to take off my clothes and get into bed. So I just laid staring across at the wall of photographs of myself and Isla. One fucking year. Wasted.
A knock on my bedroom door averted my attention to the wood and Marc stuck his head inside my room, a grin on his face. "How'd it go? Am I going to be a page boy?"
I grabbed the remote control that was for my DVD player and aimed it at his head. It missed miserably and hit the wall above his head, falling the floor with a clatter, the two batteries in the back sliding out.
"I'll take that as a no then," he sighed, stepping inside and picking up my remote, putting all the pieces back together and placing it on top of my TV. "What happened then?"
"She said no, left me there like a fool, then went to some house party with Turman, he gave her some drugs, which she took, she fell down the stairs, I took her to the hospital and now she can't remember me."
"Huh?"
"Memory loss Marc! She hit her head pretty hard."
"Oh. Then why don't you just ask her again?"
"What?"
"Kyle, if she can't remember you then she can't remember what you did. So the last year hasn't been totally wasted, you could work this to your advantage. Ask her out, make sure you don't screw a thing up, you know what she likes and doesn't like, so it won't be hard."
I shook my head. "No, no, I can't do that to her. I can't take advantage of her like that."
He shrugged. "It's up to you, but I know you love her and you don't wanna lose her and this could be your only chance." He left me alone, those words buzzing around my mind.
Maybe, I could.