I Was Just Wondering Why You Stabbed

For Some Reason, My Temper Was Hardwired To My Tear Ducts. I Usually Cried When I Was Angry, A Humiliating Tendency.

Silently, I Lifted My Doggy Bowl Off The Floor. Then, With A Quick, Powerful Flip Of My Wrist, I Threw It Into The Back Of Blondie’s Head So Hard That – With An Earsplitting Bang – It Smashed Flat Before It Ricocheted Across The Room And Snapped The Round Top Piece Off The Thick Newel Post At The Foot Of The Stairs.

I Flicked On The Light Beside My Bed, Waiting For My Breathing To Slow, Veins Full Of Adrenaline From The Realistic Dream. A New Dream, But In Essence So Much The Same As The Many Others That Had Plagued Me In The Past Months. No, Not A Dream. Surely A Memory. I Could Still Feel The Heat Of Jared's Lips On Mine. My Hands Reached Out Without My Permission, Searching Across The Rumpled Sheets, Looking For Something They Didn't Find. My Heart Ached When They Gave Up, Falling To The Bed Limp And Empty.

The Boy In The Pearl Gray Suit Could Have Been Jane's Twin. His Hair Was Darker, And His Lips Were Not As Full, But He Was Just As Lovely.

For A Second I Was Just A Kid – A Kid Who Had Lived All Of His Life In The Same Tiny Town. Just A Child. Because I Knew I Would Have To Live A Lot More, Suffer A Lot More, To Ever Understand The Searing Agony In Edward’s Eyes.