Act of love

Chapter Twenty-Three

Zachary:
"Zachary Wixx speaking, how can I help you?"
'Good morning Zachary, this is miss Adams from the support Anfisa Diamond is in. We're sorry to bother you so early morning, but there seems to be an issue. Anfisa has ran away, we have a search team looking for her but we can't find her. Two people out on a walk said they saw her and gave her money for a bus. We looked up the busses for the past hour, and there went one to Santa Clarita. We are just calling to inform you and maybe you have any idea why she would go there?'
There is a long pause between what miss Adams says and my words.
"I have no idea what she could be doing there, so sorry I couldn't be of any help." Before she could give me a reply I press the red button on my phone to hang up. The phone cracks loudly between my fist as I squeeze it. "Fucking Anfisa." I knew she would run away as soon as things would get hard for her. She brings out the deepest darkest rage in me, but I stay in control. I always do.
After calming down for a bit I decide to go to the support group first to talk to miss Adams how this could happen. And maybe her room mates, if they saw something, or if they know the reason why she ran away. I bet it's because of that fucking guy. Just thinking about the way he touched her brings up all the parts of angry again.

Anfisa:
26 December 2021
Dear Diary,
it's the day after Christmas, one of the six days in between holidays. Holidays sound so positive, these holidays were the hardest days of my life. Not only I ruined my own holidays, also those of Zachary and my parents, maybe even Chase. This makes me feel so much more guilty. I am just a stupid burden to everyone. Every time I get to a high point in my life, I sink lower then ever before.
I have been staying at my parents for exactly 12 full hours, meaning it's 8:30 PM currently. Just finished dinner and a shower.
I'm thinking about having an early night, because of this terrible day. Maybe tomorrow will be better, but knowing my luck it will be a thousand times worse.
Me and the dog seem to get along pretty well. His name is Clinton, not like the president Clinton. He was adopted out of a shelter two weeks ago when he was just nine months old. The previous owners have named him this Clinton, and this name suits his handsome face. He is such a good boy. He loves to play and he is vey affectionate. My heart feels complete when I see him. This household definitely needed this dog to be the least cheerful.

A loud knock appears to be at the door. Not normal, no loud. Like the person at the other side of the door wants to knock right through the door.
"Coming!" My dad yells very annoyed. Back to the old dad, of course.
"Where is she?" It doesn't take long for me to recognize that voice. It's Zachary.
"Ah it's you." My dad replies. I swing my legs out my bed and leave my diary open on the bed.
With a sprint I run down the stairs, so fast I almost trip.
"You! I swear Anfisa, you had no right to do this to me." His face is red in anger, while his breath seems awfully calm.
"Not here." My voice is just as calm as his breath is.
He nods in agreement and pulls me outside. The front door is heavy so it falls shut behind us. Here I am, freezing in my shorts and t-shirt, while snow falls onto my skin.
"I got a call early morning today, saying you ran away, so I went to check what happened at the support group." Zach takes a couple of breaths to calm himself back down. "I talked to Melody and Laurence too." He leans against the shed next to us, with his arms crossed over his chest. It doesn't take me long to realize he knows what happened between me and Laurence.
"Zach, I'm so sorry, it was my mental health, it was bad, he brought me comfort and..." He scoffs to break off my sentence.
"Anfisa, stop, I have my own shit as well, but I would never do this to you." A pain shoots through my chest, is this the feeling of heartbreak. I have honestly never had it since Dalton was my first boyfriend ever, and I hoped for him to be the last, but here I am.
The first tear falls down my cheek, then another, and another.
"You don't know how sorry I am..."
"What can I buy of sorry Anfisa? I was there for you, I tried to visit as much as I could, even during the therapy sessions, who was the first one to help you? Me. And what can I get? You sleeping with some whack-ass guy. Listen, I had a future planned for us after you got out of the mental institution." One of his hands slips into his pocket and fishes a piece of paper out of it. He hands it to me between two fingers. "Read it."
With trembling hands, I open up the piece of paper that has been folded at least five or six times.

Dear Anfisa,
Usually, I would start with dear Satan, I guess as a replacement of "dear diary". But this isn't really a diary. It's a letter, to you.
Why do I write a letter you must wonder, besides writing a couple of poems, I am a terrible writer. But that doesn't hold me back from telling you how I feel.
This letter will probably sit in one of my jeans pockets for a long time, but I can at least give writing an attempt.
Today you gave therapy a really good try, you opened up for the first time. If I have to be honest, I have been calling with miss Adams and asking how your sessions went. She isn't allowed to tell me any details, but what she did tell me is that you had a hard time opening up. If I could I would surprise you with a dinner at Sette Giorni, free of charge. We will one day, you can keep me to that one.
Hopefully our next session tomorrow will go just as good as this one, maybe even better. I know it's quite soon to say, but I love you Anfisa.

My eyes lift from the paper right to his eyes, they're staring into mine intensely.
"I wrote this the night you were having sex with that guy." His words have me shocked for a long time. Every time I try to speak, no word comes out of my mouth.
I suck a big breath of air between my teeth.
"What do you want me to do? I made a mistake! I know I did, but I can't turn back time. Either I can feel guilty forever and sit in my own emotions, or you can get over it!" In the moment of emotions, I raised my voice hard at him. Making him wince just a tiny bit, he doesn't show it though.
"Get over it?" Zach repeats with a soft laugh. "You and me Anfisa, we're done, how about you get over that?" The paper get's ripped out of my hands leaving a slight paper cut. "This means nothing anymore." He holds the paper out right in front of me, before tearing it up in a million and dropping it on the ground. The sinking feeling in my body only grows.
Zach uses his foot to push him away from the shed and walks off. Something inside me hopes for him to turn around, pick me up and hug me tight. The other part wants to yell at him a little more, but I do neither of these things. I stay silent and stunned. Zachary just broke up with me...
I bang my fists at the front door of my new house.
"Hey, everything okay?" My dad asks, of course, he has to be the one that opens this stupid door.
"No dad, not everything is okay but who even cares anymore?" After saying these ruthless words I run upstairs just to get my diary, and run out of the door again.
It's already dark so I use the phone out of my back pocket as a flashlight. The phone is my dad's old phone, in case of an emergency they could call this number, but right now its purpose is being my flashlight.
This neighborhood is well known to me since I grew up here. Eighteen years of my life wasted here. I walk past the playground I loved to play in as a kid. Without any friends, because I was always the outcast, still am.
The park I planned to go to is only a few minutes away. A park in the middle of Los Angeles. The city where there are always people, even so late in the evening.
Tears stream down my cheeks, I don't think they ever stopped.
How did I ever get so attached to Zachary? I knew it wasn't going to work out. I save all these thoughts to write in my diary when I finally sit down on an empty bench, in the middle of the park. In front of me is a lake, completely dark, the only place in the park that isn't lit up by bright lights. It looks fairly peaceful.

26 December 2021
Dear Diary,
it's the second time I am writing today, but I tend to write to things down when things get bad. Today's occasion is me getting dumped, yep you read that right. I got dumped. It hurts like hell.
It has been a while since I thought about suicide, but now I'm contemplating again. Maybe it's because I'm too high in my emotions, maybe it's because I have no one left now. You tell me God, you're the one doing this to me after all. They say 'God wouldn't put you through anything you can't handle', I'm just holding onto that for dear life.
Even the thought of contacting my sister Amory crossed my mind, but she's happy with her fiancé, living the perfect life she wished for. I can't become a part of that right now, I am a total mess.

"Excuse me miss? Do you mind if I sit here?" A guy with a black hoodie approaches me. The light falls from behind, making it hard for me to see his face.
I pull in my legs and motion with my hand for him to sit. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone, if I would, I would probably cry, again.
"What a nice night isn't it?" His voice sounds very familiar somewhere, I'm too much of a mess to place it in the right spot. "Not into small talk, got it." A deep breath leaves my lips and I try to focus on my diary again. "You into smoking some weed?" Great a drug user is sitting next to me, he doesn't seem like the type who would use it. But who am I to judge, I mis judged Zachary by a lot. "Come on, one time doesn't harm." The fact he hasn't made eye contact with me even once makes the situation even sketchier.
"You know what? My night couldn't get fucking worse." The guy takes off one of his gloves so his ring becomes visible for a split second, even that ring seems familiar, but I also can't place that. My entire world feels foggy, more like useless. "What's your name?" I ask him when I can no longer control my curiosity.
"Irrelevant question Anfisa." The fact the knows my name sends chills down my spine, but I don't let them take control. Probably an old friend from my old education. I have a lot of those.
The mysterious lights up the joint and takes it in his mouth before handing it to me. As he turns a slight side of him becomes visible, a fairly sharp nose. I take three puffs before handing it back at him. "You go girl." A slight smile appears on my face, the first one today. But just two seconds after I've come to regret my decision of taking so much.
"It was a pure joint wasn't it?" I say coughing and laughing at him.
"Sure was pretty girl." The nickname makes me feel warm in the middle of this cold heartless night. "Want to talk about your day?"
"Not yet." There is a pause between my question and his answer as he takes a puff. He took the same amount as me before throwing the joint away. The whole area smells like weed now. "We have to wait for it to kick in first, than we can laugh about it, because I bet my day was worse then yours." His words make me laugh.
"I could bet for ten dollars that my day was worse."
"Deal!" He says, a little too loud while sitting up straight.
I don't know why I said that, I don't even have my wallet with me, if I did I probably wouldn't even have enough cash.
"My mom died today, one of her last words were that me being born was a mistake and that I shouldn't be with her while she dies." He says his voice disturbingly calm. My eyes shoot right open.
"What? You definitely win this one." For the first time since he came sit next to me, we make eye contact. Intense eye contact.
The smile he has on his face makes me laugh, not because what he just said was so funny.
"Oh I'm sorry for laughing."
"Don't worry Anfisa, I get what weed does to you." My neck leans against the bench and I stare deep into the sky, trying to see the stars that hide behind the clouds.
"Maybe the stars are too shy to show themselves." I laugh before making eye contact once more.
"Silly girl." His hand touches my knee, it's a very light touch, but it's enough to heat up my entire body.
"Your turn, tell me about your fantastic day."
"God where do I start, last night I hooked up with my friend of the mental institution. Where I was in because of my dead fiancé, or boyfriend whatever. Oh and I had a boyfriend, then I ran away, my boyfriend found out I cheated, and I have a secret brother." I talk so much I stumble over some of the words.
For the first time, putting all these words in a row, doesn't feel painful. Weed wasn't such a bad idea.
"That sounds like a lot. Are you sure I win?"
"Hmmmmm." I stretch the words as long as my breath lasts. "This weed sucks man, I'm still cold." The mysterious guy laughs in the back of his throat. The laugh sounds so deep and intense, somewhere attractive.
Without saying a word he unties his jacket from his waist and gives it to me, like a real gentleman. I put it over me, but it doesn't seem to be enough, Not by a long shot. He notices, as he sees my body shiver.
"See that building over there?" The building behind us is perfectly lit up. I make a sound in the back of my throat that sounds like a yes. "That's where I live, you want to come in? It's pretty warm inside and I have blankets."
"You're not a weird serial killer are you?" I say, not sure he understands my slurring.
"Only one way to find out." He gets up from the bench, making me fall. I didn't realize in the slightest how much I was leaning on him. "Idiot." He laughs, this guy seems to take weed a lot better then me. He definitely takes it more then I do.
I take the hand he holds out to me, together we stumble to the apartment. The eyes of people surrounding us are piercing right through me, usually I would care. Tonight I decided not to.
After climbing all the stairs that felt like whole mountains we're inside his apartment.
I'm laying spread out on the entire couch, trust me it's not a small couch. He is laughing at my silliness and takes a formal seat on the chair next to me. There is a slight bit of redness in his eyes, but not even close to mine.
"Oh sorry, I am such a bad home owner, do you want anything to drink princess?" The way he gives me a new nickname every time, makes my cheeks glow bright red.
"Got some wine?"
"I think that you have had plenty tonight, maybe a bit too much. I guess that was my fault for not telling you it was a pure joint. Is there anyone I can call for you?" With a smile from one ear to another I roll over, if it isn't for his arm holding me up I would've fell.
"You're like a prince on a white horse, who has come to save me."
"Alright, where is your phone?"
"Don't call anyone, I don't have anyone, you're all right now."
My eyes close all the way and slowly the background gets foggy.