Black Romance 15 Alrigh

Picking up my head, Aubrey was crying uncontrollably in her room. The same as she had been every night. Climbing out of bed, I tip-toed over to the wall beside my couch, pressing my ear to the wall.

Her sobbing was a mixture of labored breathing and moans of sadness. Through the painful moans I could make out the single word she kept repeating—'why?'

I've asked that same question. . . And never got an answer.

Laying my hand on the wall, I lifted my index finger, ready to tap the wall and reach out to her, just so she knew she wasn't alone. I wanted to do what Samantha had done for me and give her a friend in this h.e.l.l.

You know what happened to Samantha because of you. Do you want the same thing to happen to Aubrey?

The sharp edge of my nail hovered over the torn wallpaper, ready to tap. But I stopped myself. Aubrey had grown quiet, her audible tears now a few heavy breaths as I a.s.sumed she had cried herself to sleep.

Stepping away, I climbed back into bed, laying flat on my back with my eyes on the ceiling. I remembered being like Aubrey. That feeling of despair and sadness that was so overwhelming there was no where for it to go but out.

Then one day you change. You stop feeling sad. You stop feeling lost and blaming the world for this s.h.i.+tty hand you've been dealt. You learn to deal with it. You learn to work with it and not against it.

It didn't fix a f.u.c.king thing, but it made living a little more tolerable. I hated thinking that I had accepted this life. I felt like I had let myself down after all the countless promises I made to never give up.

You haven't given up, Jessie, you've just smartened up. This isn't how your story ends.

Deep down I knew I was just waiting.

Waiting for that perfect moment to tip my world on its axis and give Virgo the middle finger.

Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep. A sleep where my nightmares consisted of the life I should have and not the one I was living in.

Who else could say that their nightmares were actually dreams about good stories and happier times?

Only people who had nothing to live for.

People like me.

# Next Morning

I watched Aubrey wipingher eyes as she sat at her table. Sniffling, her hand was shaking as she tried to apply her eyeliner. Stopping for a moment, she let out a breath and looked up at the ceiling.

Her cheeks were streaked in fresh and old tears. The water would drop off her lashes, tracing dried up streams as they plopped onto her lap. I wasn't sure if she noticed the small circle stains being left on her thigh from the mixture of mascara and water.

She's going to need to change.

Virgo would frown on such an appearance if he saw her like that. He expected perfection. I didn't even want to think about what he'd do to her if he walked in on her right then.

Leaning back over, she tried to put on her makeup again, but she just couldn't do it. The tip of the liner kept creeping up towards her eyeball, threatening to stab her in the pupil. Dropping it onto the table, she drove her fingers against her temples and hung her head.

"Here, let me help," I said as I stepped to her side.

Her eyes shot open as she whipped her head in my direction, staring at me like I was insane. "What are you doing? We're not supposed to talk, you're going to get us in trouble." Aubrey's eyes darted around the room, searching for Vin.

"He's not in here right now, he went out front to take care of something." Grabbing the eyeliner, I held it between my fingers. "Don't worry, we're alright, I won't get you into trouble, I promise."

"Alright—we are not alright if you haven't noticed." Her voice was cold and empty as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. "Nothing will ever be alright."

She looked so defeated, and all I wanted to do was make her feel better. I didn't want her to end up like the other girls that just vanished into thin air. I didn't want her to think that this was all that was left for her.

Because there was always the chance that one day things could change. The right person could walk in that door and free her. It wasn't out of the realm of possibilities that a man might see her and want to bring her home.

Maybe that man would be a good man, a man who would love her, shower her with gifts and affection. Maybe that same man would set us all free.

You're lying to yourself, Jessie, you know you are.