My name is Clara Elizabeth Jezebel Hale. I am named after two of the most notorious Queens ever to have existed and a woman that used to be known as my caretaker. I have been loved, I have been hated, and I have been dragged through hell and back immeasurable amounts of times.
This time, I don’t think I’m coming back.
Carlisle hasn’t left my side. I think he’s worried that I’ll try to run off and kill myself like Edward did, but I’m not dramatic or silly. The only thing wrong with me right now is the boy lying in the hospital bed with a ring around his finger - my mother's promise ring, settled around his little finger, lying limp against the bed.
And as much as my life might rely on him, I have no plans to end it.
-
Zach woke up at 2:39 a.m. on April 30.
“Where’s Clara?” were the first words out of his mouth.
I screamed and cried and hugged him harder that I was told that I ought to. The entire family was there, and for once, by God, I thought that everything was going to be okay. Being a mind reader, Edward herded everyone out of the door only moments after they said hello, leaving the two of us alone.
“I love you,” I repeated over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you, Oh God, I love you so much.”
He smiled back weakly, tears slowly running down his cheeks. “I love you more.”
I cried and cried. He was alive. He was alive and in my arms.
I crawled up in the hospital bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me as much as he could without ripping an IV as I gingerly tried not to break him while getting as close as inhumanly possible.
I would’ve talked to him about… Well, everything, really, but he was so tired from just the bare minimum of excitement that had been caused in the last hour and a half, that he told me he didn’t have much left in him, and all he really wanted to do…
“I just want to know you’re here.” He said simply.
I lay there, just as I had lain there so many other nights, but this one… I knew he was alive, and I knew that he was completely better, with no kind of strings attached. I knew that he was always going to be with me, and that finally, after two months of crying and aching, I had him back.
It had been worth it.
“What it was like…” I whispered a long while after, thinking he was asleep, as ran my fingers across his arm.
I watched my fingers as they ran across his sleeve.
A moment later, there was a choked whisper. “It was hell.”
I sat up slightly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was thinking.” His voice was raspy from the nonuse of two months. “I can’t sleep while you’re here; I’ve been without you for too long.”
The tears, for once, were 'happy tears', something explained to me earlier by Alice, and I was grinning like an idiot. He was HERE. WITH ME. Finally.
"Hey, um, Clare?" He said, wincing as he adjusted himself away from me. "I don't mean to sound all blunt and whatnot, but I hurt and that's basically all I can be, so..." He paused, and I held my breath.
'It's over.' 'I can't see you anymore.' 'It was your fault I'm like this.'
All of those words got caught and tangled in my head as I struggled to keep smiling. Please don't let it be, please don't let it be... Oh, God, maybe he'd reconsidered because of the dream...
"Are you still in love with me? Enough to marry me?"
The air came back in a woosh. "YES! More than you could EVER know!" I said, a tiny bit overzealous and lacking the romance it was supposed to have.
He looked relieved and pulled me close. "Thank God."
I kissed his lips, and his hands, and his neck, and his cheeks. I had him back. It was unbelieveable.
"Thank you for your ring," he murmered into my forehead, his lips curving into a smile.
I swallowed, overjoyed that I could talk to him... Listen to him... Anything, as long as it was with him. “So... what were you thinking about? While you were... Well, not sleeping, I guess?”
"You mostly. And home… And….”
He stopped midsentence, a bewildered look on his face, and swallowed. “And…”
Under my hands, his heart rate quickened. The look on his face grew to panic.
“Zach?!” I put my hands on his face. His body rocketed with spasms of pain, racking through my entire body as well as his, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“CARLISLE!” I screamed.
And that was it. I passed out.
Zachary Creullen had a severe heart attack from internal injuries that hadn’t been completely healed at 4:34 a.m. on April 30.
Four days later, after nonstop surgeries and treatments and CAT scans, May 4, 2008 at 5:32 in the afternoon, he was pronounced brain dead.
Only machines are keeping him alive.
I can’t be anywhere near him for extended amounts of time because so many doctors are swarming him.
And as strange as it is to write it, I’m not in pain when I’m in his ICU room, and that hurts more than anything in the world.
I haven’t slept in five days, and couldn’t if I wanted to.
Edward comes in every day and holds me close, as if that would help. Emmett whispers prayers in broken Italian on my behalf, although he thinks I don’t hear them. Alice sits in during hours I’m supposed to be sleeping. Jasper tries to get me to talk. Rosalie showed up one day and begged me to come home. Esme is always hovering around, talking nonstop. Bella shows up every now and then, surprising since we don’t talk, and tells me stories about her own life.
None of it helps, but none of it has really hit me either.
Dhart left when they pronounced him brain dead, shaking and vomiting uncontrollably.
Everyone stares at me, all the time, like I'm supposed to die - cry, scream, hurt myself.
But heartache and the feeling of not knowing where your heart has gone anyway is some of the worst pain in the universe.
I don't know what's happening.
I think I might turn into a statue. A hard, cold, horrified statue.
I have no purpose anymore.
"How many vampires hearts sink when werewolves are killed?"...
Showing posts with label heartbroken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heartbroken. Show all posts
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Happy Birthday to You...
I’m going to be disowned, and I’ll deserve so much worse than that if they ever know the whole story. Oh, God, help me.
And today? Today’s my birthday.
My eightieth, in the real sense. As for my cover? I’m seventeen.
Five days ago, I was as close to okay as I was bound to get.
Wednesday didn’t start out any differently from any other day. It was basically just school without talking to anyone (including Zach, who’s actually able to get colds, I found out), and going home with Edward.
But it wasn’t like before.
Whereas Edward usually talks, or makes ME talk, he was completely quiet and ignored all of my dumb attempts at conversation. He didn’t look happy at all, and to tell the truth, if I was him and my girlfriend was constantly in danger from both clumsiness and/or vampiric death, I wouldn’t be happy to pick up my sister either. But when I brought that up, trying to get him to admit he was worrying, he just frowned deeply and shook his head, looking at me intensely with steely eyes.
You think I would’ve guessed that something going on, concerning me. But no. I’m not that bright.
For the rest of the week, Edward was always around me, refusing to talk and seeming furious, looking like more like an angry god than an angel. I caught him near me constantly, even in the middle of the night, when he’d come in, claiming to be looking for something, giving me a hateful look while he “searched.”
Finally, last night, I just locked him out of my room, end of story.
He was mad, and he made me promise to come down every two point five hours or he’d break the door in, but really, whatever got him off of my back was perfect for me.
And five minutes after I was perfectly sure that he was gone, I was back to listening to my music, finishing up an end-of-semester report for Zoology. I hated the class, because I was learning about all of my food and really had no intention of working with animals in the future.
It was like learning that your applesauce can actually cry for it’s counterparts or develop AIDS.
But then again, Annora had talked me into taking it, just because she was hoping that maybe it would increase my want to get off of a blood-diet, which unfortunately, is not going to happen anytime ever, and I wasn’t in a mood to disagree with her.
As I worked, I heard timy taps, like branches rubbing against my window. But seeing as how there were no trees around, it was obviously my favorite person in the world, coming to see me in the middle of the night, when he was supposed to be sleeping.
The sound would’ve gotten to Edward, who might as well have been sitting outside of my door, so I opened the window.
“Shhs, Zach! Two seconds!”
I got no response, but I reclosed the window just in time to hear Edward. “Clara, what’s going on?”
I groaned dramatically, and lied, since he was so exhausted and wasn’t trying to listen in on my thoughts. “I was figiting. But lighten up, Ed. Just because I’m playing pick-up with my pencils doesn’t mean someone’s coming to eat me.” I smiled. Zach was about the closest thing to dangerous I had at the moment, and though he probably actually could eat me, I kind of doubted it.
“Whatever. Just be careful.”
“I’m in my ROOM, with locked EVERYTHING.”
“Still... Just do it.”
I heard him sigh and leave, then went over to the window and reopened it. “Okay, you’re clear. But are you retarded?! Edward could hear that!” I whispered.
I heard him chuckle, and I smiled, going back to my paper.
I heard him climb through the window, and I started saving the document and printing a copy out. “Okay, so what are you doing in the middle of the...”
I turned around to face him, and my breath caught.
“Hey, Clarabelle.” Tender eyes looked at me forlornly, the whispering voice coming from pink lips seeming almost playful. “Happy Birthday.”
I stared at him for a minute, and then tried to throw up.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Clara. She believed that love could save her, and that the most innocent and pure love could be found in youth, which, don’t get her wrong, can. But with youth also comes stupidity, and with stupidity comes no space for big mistakes.
And unfortunately enough, Clara made a big mistake: She fell in love with the perfect guy.
All of the sudden, I was close to hyperventilating, and I didn’t even really have to breathe.
He stood there and smiled at me. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
I stared at him with wide eyes that wouldn’t seem to close. “You’re not here. You... You can’t be.”
“Okay, or maybe I am, if this is how you really feel towards me. So let me rephrase: I’m not here to purposely hurt you.” He said, sighing.
Nicholas was charming, sweet, and loved her unconditionally, and soon enough, in the last year of high school, he proposed. She, being the idiot that she was, said yes, and the date was set: December 18, 1944 --- Just under a month after she would turn seventeen. He, himself, was eighteen and a loner kid who had been overlooked by so many eyes who were looking for a “good” husband. That’s not to say that he wasn’t beautiful, though. With light grey eyes and hair so dark brown that it looked indescernable from the darkest black.
I couldn’t have gotten out of the office chair had I tried. All of my super vampiriky strength had completely left me.
But not in the literal sense. Oh, no. This guy could do more than that, and I knew it.
“So,” he said, still smiling softly, sitting down on my couch. “Who’s Zach?”
“You have to leave...” I whispered. “You... You’re not supposed to... I can’t... I’m...”
“Dead.” He sighed. “I know.”
But two months before the wedding, Clara disappeared without a note, sign, or any evidence at all. Alerts were issued and the police were called in, but finding nothing, called off soon. The boy was destitute and heartbroken, not eating or seeing anyone until they could find her.
They never did.
My breathing came in ragged gasps, like I was grasping for something normal and human to hold on to while this was happening. It was a dream; a nightmare that I’d lived over and over for years on end.
“How?” I choked out. “How did this happen? Why are you still...” It dawned on me, and I wretched again. “No. Oh, no. You’re not, and this can’t be!”
He took a shuddering breath, and I could almost taste his pain. It wasn’t anything that was physically killing him, but the emotional feel for the situation he’d just thrown himself in was insane. It was like suicide.
But, seeing as how he’d changed, pun intended, he wouldn’t be killed that easily.
“I knew what happened to you, but I wasn’t just going to walk up to you and say ‘hey, Clare, it’s still me, and it can still be like old times.’ You were beautiful and you were something that scared me even more than my own immortality.”
The memorial grew grey and cold, and was set to rest with a pointless headstone. Clara was the ghost who haunted every hall with her memory and who’s story inspired hundreds to not go out at night. She was a nightmare for everyone. And just outside Denali National Park, the one girl who she haunted consistantly, every waking moment of every waking day, lived.
I stood up, shaky still. “I can’t do this.” I gasped. “I need... I need Edward.”
The sad smile left his face in place of a lonely, knowing look as he nodded his consent. He’d never been one to run away.
“That’s okay, Clara. I understand. Just...” He hesitated, and I felt like I was going to explode. “Just remember, okay?” The sad smile was back, and if I wasn’t completely freaked out about seeing the eternally preserved eighteen-year-old in my room, I would’ve started crying and...
I don’t even want to think about it.
“So is this what your ability is?” I accused him. “Convincing people to see things how you did? Because we already have a person who can do that, and I don’t need any more of it.”
He frowned. “Abilities?”
A sob escaped, the tears dried up before I’d ever wanted to cry them, and his face grew dim.
“Clara...” He looked like he was fighting something, and then he came to where I now sat in a pile on the floor on my knees, and wrapped his arms around me. “Clara... Shhh... It’s okay swe-.... It’s... It’ll be okay. I’m so sorry....” he whispered.
It killed me for him to be doing this. Cold skin againist cold skin created something strange, and a feeling of uttermost misplacement. I was supposed to be warm; he was supposed to be warm. And by now, we were supposed to...
NO!
I pulled away. “I don’t... I can’t.”
He gave me a sideways smile. “I knew and know.”
“But... I need you to explain to me. I need you to tell me what happened and what’s going to happen. Where and how and why and what and everything that I couldn’t know because of a single bullet.” I was talking fast, and without really thinking, but he knew what I meant.
“I will.”
I looked at him, a feeling of dread and absolute terror spreading through me. “You promise me the truth?”
He nodded. “I promise you everything, as long as you swear to remember.”
I shook my head. “I can’t, Nicholas. I really can’t, as much as I’d lo... I’d like to.”
He ran a hand over his face, immune to blemish and perfect to the eye, and looked up at me gently. “Okay, Clare. But just... Try to.”
He helped me up, and opened the door to the hallway. I stood where I was, watching him carefully.
“Come on,” He coaxed. “The rest of the family probably knows already.”
I shuddered. I was dead. So, so, dead. And Nick? He was wrong. Incredibly wrong.
Because Edward hadn’t really suspected anything.
“SURPRISE!” Eight voices who happened to be holding a huge cake screamed at Nick as he stood in the doorway to the living room, stunned.
It took less than a second.
“Who the hell?!”
“CLARA!”
“What’s going on?!”
“There’s another one of you?!”
“Oh, no, not again...”
“I KNEW IT!”
There was a pause, and then: “Nice to see you again, Nicholas.” The room fell silent as Edward held Nick’s eyes. “It’s been a long time.”
He smiled. “Yeah, and now I’m back. And just like you guys. No harm, no foul, ri-...”
“HELL NO.” Emmett roared.
Edward smiled grimly. “He’s right.”
“BOTH OF YOU, STOP.” I yelled. “I’m so SICK of this happening every time someone comes over. We’re supposed to TRUST one another, remember?!”
Zach looked sick from across the table, where a box sat, wrapped in mangled paper. “What the hell, Clara?” He asked slowly. “Why?”
“Zach...” He shook his head and left without hesitating, his hurt worse than my own.
I swore loudly, and heard Emmett snort. “Do you even SEE this?! This isn’t family – This isn’t anything LIKE that!”
Annora looked on the whole sight pretty well, considering she didn’t know anything about what had happened. She hadn’t even been alive when the whole lot of us had gone to school together. Emmett looked completely disgusted, even though he was looking straight into his best friend’s eyes, and even Jasper, who hadn’t been involved with any outside relationships was burning in hate. Alice and Rosalie looked mildy irritated, but I knew and felt so much more.
“Nice, Clara.” Ryan commented, his arm around Annora.
I swallowed hard and swore again before going back upstairs. That had been it. I couldn’t take any more at all.
I locked my door and went into my closet and locked that one.
In one night, I’d manged to get older, reminisce, be completely afraid, love, chase away my best friend, and internally implode.
And among the snow and ice, she couldn’t forget who she really was, but she tried as hard as she possibly could. Nothing good could come of remembering.
Remembering love was one of those promises that I didn't want to go through again.
“Happy Birthday, Dear Clara...”
And today? Today’s my birthday.
My eightieth, in the real sense. As for my cover? I’m seventeen.
Five days ago, I was as close to okay as I was bound to get.
Wednesday didn’t start out any differently from any other day. It was basically just school without talking to anyone (including Zach, who’s actually able to get colds, I found out), and going home with Edward.
But it wasn’t like before.
Whereas Edward usually talks, or makes ME talk, he was completely quiet and ignored all of my dumb attempts at conversation. He didn’t look happy at all, and to tell the truth, if I was him and my girlfriend was constantly in danger from both clumsiness and/or vampiric death, I wouldn’t be happy to pick up my sister either. But when I brought that up, trying to get him to admit he was worrying, he just frowned deeply and shook his head, looking at me intensely with steely eyes.
You think I would’ve guessed that something going on, concerning me. But no. I’m not that bright.
For the rest of the week, Edward was always around me, refusing to talk and seeming furious, looking like more like an angry god than an angel. I caught him near me constantly, even in the middle of the night, when he’d come in, claiming to be looking for something, giving me a hateful look while he “searched.”
Finally, last night, I just locked him out of my room, end of story.
He was mad, and he made me promise to come down every two point five hours or he’d break the door in, but really, whatever got him off of my back was perfect for me.
And five minutes after I was perfectly sure that he was gone, I was back to listening to my music, finishing up an end-of-semester report for Zoology. I hated the class, because I was learning about all of my food and really had no intention of working with animals in the future.
It was like learning that your applesauce can actually cry for it’s counterparts or develop AIDS.
But then again, Annora had talked me into taking it, just because she was hoping that maybe it would increase my want to get off of a blood-diet, which unfortunately, is not going to happen anytime ever, and I wasn’t in a mood to disagree with her.
As I worked, I heard timy taps, like branches rubbing against my window. But seeing as how there were no trees around, it was obviously my favorite person in the world, coming to see me in the middle of the night, when he was supposed to be sleeping.
The sound would’ve gotten to Edward, who might as well have been sitting outside of my door, so I opened the window.
“Shhs, Zach! Two seconds!”
I got no response, but I reclosed the window just in time to hear Edward. “Clara, what’s going on?”
I groaned dramatically, and lied, since he was so exhausted and wasn’t trying to listen in on my thoughts. “I was figiting. But lighten up, Ed. Just because I’m playing pick-up with my pencils doesn’t mean someone’s coming to eat me.” I smiled. Zach was about the closest thing to dangerous I had at the moment, and though he probably actually could eat me, I kind of doubted it.
“Whatever. Just be careful.”
“I’m in my ROOM, with locked EVERYTHING.”
“Still... Just do it.”
I heard him sigh and leave, then went over to the window and reopened it. “Okay, you’re clear. But are you retarded?! Edward could hear that!” I whispered.
I heard him chuckle, and I smiled, going back to my paper.
I heard him climb through the window, and I started saving the document and printing a copy out. “Okay, so what are you doing in the middle of the...”
I turned around to face him, and my breath caught.
“Hey, Clarabelle.” Tender eyes looked at me forlornly, the whispering voice coming from pink lips seeming almost playful. “Happy Birthday.”
I stared at him for a minute, and then tried to throw up.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Clara. She believed that love could save her, and that the most innocent and pure love could be found in youth, which, don’t get her wrong, can. But with youth also comes stupidity, and with stupidity comes no space for big mistakes.
And unfortunately enough, Clara made a big mistake: She fell in love with the perfect guy.
All of the sudden, I was close to hyperventilating, and I didn’t even really have to breathe.
He stood there and smiled at me. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
I stared at him with wide eyes that wouldn’t seem to close. “You’re not here. You... You can’t be.”
“Okay, or maybe I am, if this is how you really feel towards me. So let me rephrase: I’m not here to purposely hurt you.” He said, sighing.
Nicholas was charming, sweet, and loved her unconditionally, and soon enough, in the last year of high school, he proposed. She, being the idiot that she was, said yes, and the date was set: December 18, 1944 --- Just under a month after she would turn seventeen. He, himself, was eighteen and a loner kid who had been overlooked by so many eyes who were looking for a “good” husband. That’s not to say that he wasn’t beautiful, though. With light grey eyes and hair so dark brown that it looked indescernable from the darkest black.
I couldn’t have gotten out of the office chair had I tried. All of my super vampiriky strength had completely left me.
But not in the literal sense. Oh, no. This guy could do more than that, and I knew it.
“So,” he said, still smiling softly, sitting down on my couch. “Who’s Zach?”
“You have to leave...” I whispered. “You... You’re not supposed to... I can’t... I’m...”
“Dead.” He sighed. “I know.”
But two months before the wedding, Clara disappeared without a note, sign, or any evidence at all. Alerts were issued and the police were called in, but finding nothing, called off soon. The boy was destitute and heartbroken, not eating or seeing anyone until they could find her.
They never did.
My breathing came in ragged gasps, like I was grasping for something normal and human to hold on to while this was happening. It was a dream; a nightmare that I’d lived over and over for years on end.
“How?” I choked out. “How did this happen? Why are you still...” It dawned on me, and I wretched again. “No. Oh, no. You’re not, and this can’t be!”
He took a shuddering breath, and I could almost taste his pain. It wasn’t anything that was physically killing him, but the emotional feel for the situation he’d just thrown himself in was insane. It was like suicide.
But, seeing as how he’d changed, pun intended, he wouldn’t be killed that easily.
“I knew what happened to you, but I wasn’t just going to walk up to you and say ‘hey, Clare, it’s still me, and it can still be like old times.’ You were beautiful and you were something that scared me even more than my own immortality.”
The memorial grew grey and cold, and was set to rest with a pointless headstone. Clara was the ghost who haunted every hall with her memory and who’s story inspired hundreds to not go out at night. She was a nightmare for everyone. And just outside Denali National Park, the one girl who she haunted consistantly, every waking moment of every waking day, lived.
I stood up, shaky still. “I can’t do this.” I gasped. “I need... I need Edward.”
The sad smile left his face in place of a lonely, knowing look as he nodded his consent. He’d never been one to run away.
“That’s okay, Clara. I understand. Just...” He hesitated, and I felt like I was going to explode. “Just remember, okay?” The sad smile was back, and if I wasn’t completely freaked out about seeing the eternally preserved eighteen-year-old in my room, I would’ve started crying and...
I don’t even want to think about it.
“So is this what your ability is?” I accused him. “Convincing people to see things how you did? Because we already have a person who can do that, and I don’t need any more of it.”
He frowned. “Abilities?”
A sob escaped, the tears dried up before I’d ever wanted to cry them, and his face grew dim.
“Clara...” He looked like he was fighting something, and then he came to where I now sat in a pile on the floor on my knees, and wrapped his arms around me. “Clara... Shhh... It’s okay swe-.... It’s... It’ll be okay. I’m so sorry....” he whispered.
It killed me for him to be doing this. Cold skin againist cold skin created something strange, and a feeling of uttermost misplacement. I was supposed to be warm; he was supposed to be warm. And by now, we were supposed to...
NO!
I pulled away. “I don’t... I can’t.”
He gave me a sideways smile. “I knew and know.”
“But... I need you to explain to me. I need you to tell me what happened and what’s going to happen. Where and how and why and what and everything that I couldn’t know because of a single bullet.” I was talking fast, and without really thinking, but he knew what I meant.
“I will.”
I looked at him, a feeling of dread and absolute terror spreading through me. “You promise me the truth?”
He nodded. “I promise you everything, as long as you swear to remember.”
I shook my head. “I can’t, Nicholas. I really can’t, as much as I’d lo... I’d like to.”
He ran a hand over his face, immune to blemish and perfect to the eye, and looked up at me gently. “Okay, Clare. But just... Try to.”
He helped me up, and opened the door to the hallway. I stood where I was, watching him carefully.
“Come on,” He coaxed. “The rest of the family probably knows already.”
I shuddered. I was dead. So, so, dead. And Nick? He was wrong. Incredibly wrong.
Because Edward hadn’t really suspected anything.
“SURPRISE!” Eight voices who happened to be holding a huge cake screamed at Nick as he stood in the doorway to the living room, stunned.
It took less than a second.
“Who the hell?!”
“CLARA!”
“What’s going on?!”
“There’s another one of you?!”
“Oh, no, not again...”
“I KNEW IT!”
There was a pause, and then: “Nice to see you again, Nicholas.” The room fell silent as Edward held Nick’s eyes. “It’s been a long time.”
He smiled. “Yeah, and now I’m back. And just like you guys. No harm, no foul, ri-...”
“HELL NO.” Emmett roared.
Edward smiled grimly. “He’s right.”
“BOTH OF YOU, STOP.” I yelled. “I’m so SICK of this happening every time someone comes over. We’re supposed to TRUST one another, remember?!”
Zach looked sick from across the table, where a box sat, wrapped in mangled paper. “What the hell, Clara?” He asked slowly. “Why?”
“Zach...” He shook his head and left without hesitating, his hurt worse than my own.
I swore loudly, and heard Emmett snort. “Do you even SEE this?! This isn’t family – This isn’t anything LIKE that!”
Annora looked on the whole sight pretty well, considering she didn’t know anything about what had happened. She hadn’t even been alive when the whole lot of us had gone to school together. Emmett looked completely disgusted, even though he was looking straight into his best friend’s eyes, and even Jasper, who hadn’t been involved with any outside relationships was burning in hate. Alice and Rosalie looked mildy irritated, but I knew and felt so much more.
“Nice, Clara.” Ryan commented, his arm around Annora.
I swallowed hard and swore again before going back upstairs. That had been it. I couldn’t take any more at all.
I locked my door and went into my closet and locked that one.
In one night, I’d manged to get older, reminisce, be completely afraid, love, chase away my best friend, and internally implode.
And among the snow and ice, she couldn’t forget who she really was, but she tried as hard as she possibly could. Nothing good could come of remembering.
Remembering love was one of those promises that I didn't want to go through again.
“Happy Birthday, Dear Clara...”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
