THOSE SUMMER NIGHTS

[35]

[35]

- EDEN -

-

TW: SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE

ANY THOUGHT I had in the last 24 hours were immediately interrupted with the memory of Atlas's hands on my face and his lips against mine. Everyone in the house noticed whenever I drifted off into my head and my cheeks burned red. Whenever they'd ask what was wrong or what I was thinking about, I'd scrambled to come up with an excuse. A small smirk would paint Atlas's lips as he stared at his lap. I simply stutter out, "I'm just tired,"

Atlas has been driving me insane and now that I knew what his lips tasted like and how has hands felt on my body, it just gave me a few hundred other things to think about.

Today, the group and I went out sightseeing. We went to about a hundred cute little places filled with hundreds of flowers and old buildings, tourists and delicious food. After I was sure my feet would fall off and my stomach would devour itself, we decided to have a quick lunch and buy a few gifts.

As I was checking out a bracelet with a plastic dried flower for Lydia, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. With a small huff, I pulled my phone from my pocket and let a smile grace my lips when I saw that the call was from Mom, meaning it was probably Lydia.

I picked up the phone, pressing it between my ear and shoulder as I continued to stare at the beautiful bracelet. As I stared at the flower more and more, it looked a lot like the flower I had given Atlas on our walk in Spain. I smiled at the memory as I said hello into the phone.

She didn't respond as I heard shuffling from the other side of the phone. I decided to keep talking as she got situated on the phone, "We're in the Netherlands and I was just looking at a bracelet to get you. It's pretty cute, I think you'll like it."

I stopped talking when I heard someone cry from the other side of the phone. I placed the bracelet back on the shelf and turned away from the bustle of the little shop. "Lydia, what's wrong?"

At that question, heart-wrenching sobs started to leave her lips and I felt my stomach liquify. Lydia rarely cried and if she did, never this hard. I could tell that her hand was pressed to her lips to stop herself from being quiet.

"Eden, I—" She started, but couldn't get two words out, another sob leaving her lips. I walked out the shop, ignoring the concerned looks I was given by Atlas and Dawson as I slipped out the door.

"Hey, Lydia," I said, trying to keep the nervous edge out of my voice, "Talk to me,"

She let out a shuddered sigh, "Can you come back?"

I frowned and at the moment, I would've. Why was a little girl like her crying so hard? She should be laughing, smiling, talking and being a... child. The small hiccups and sobs she was letting out was making my heart twist and tighten in pain.

"Why?" I asked, plopping down on the chair and dropping my head in my hands, "What's going on?"

She took in a shuddering breath as she started to speak, "Mom and Dad have been going into their old room and talking for hours on end which always ends up with them screaming at each other. They keep repeating over and over again that it's the other's fault that he's gone."