Don't Lose Sight of Me

(1) A Year Later

Bill
"Wake up." She whispers into my ear. "Bill." My eyes flutter open. I have to blink a few times to clear my vision. She was hovering over me. Her honey blonde hair tumbling down and on to my face. She was biting down on her bottom lip trying to contain her smile. "You're here?" I ask in disbelief. She lightly chuckles, and cusps my cheek with her hand. "No." She whispers. "But you need to wake up."

I suddenly gasp, rolling over as I go into a coughing fit. I rub my eyes with both hands and look to my side at the clock on my nightstand.

3:49 am.

My eyes wander a little bit to the side at the framed picture of her. I roll over and reach for it. I chuckle and gently run my finger over the glass admiring her. "I miss you baby." I whisper feeling my heart ache. "I really.. do." A single tear rolls down my face.

I sniffle and set the picture back in its spot.

There's a loud crash that causes me to jump out of bed. Another crash. Followed by his screaming. I sigh and slump my shoulders as I go into the hallway. I push open his door finding him slumped over on his bed. A shattered vase laid in the corner. A shattered frame by the door. I look down at the broken glass covering the picture of Juliette.

I bend down, carefully pulling the picture from the glass. He was panting and shaking. He was clenching the sheets of his bed in both fists. I drag my feet towards him, sitting next to him on the bed. "I fucking hate her." He hisses looking at the picture in my hands. I look at him, our eyes locking with one another.

Even in the darkness, with the exception of the light from the moon peering in, I knew he was hurting. And more than likely, he had dreamt of her.

It happened sometimes. He'd abruptly wake up in the middle of the night, and go into a fit of anger. Sometimes he'd cry afterwards. Sometimes he'd call her every vulgar name you could think of. And sometimes he'd silently sit and stare at the wall.

The first few weeks he cried. But then the crying progressed to anger. And that anger became hatred. And as the months went by, he finally gave up. George and Gustav had to move out. For their own safety. Tom's outbursts had become more frequent, more violent.

His breathing was ragged. With each breath he took, the pain was only more evident. He sniffles, and rubs an eye with the back of his hand. I notice something dangling from his fist. He opens his fist, her necklace resting in the middle of his hand. With his other hand, he gently touches the pendants of the sun and moon. One of his tears manages to escape.

He scoffs and closes his fist again. "Get the fuck out." He hisses. I set her photo down, and stand up to leave. He grabs the photo and tosses it to the floor. As I'm about to close the door, I peer in through the small crack.

He immediately drops to the ground, picking up her photo. He begins to silently cry, his body shaking with each sob as he presses the photo and her necklace against his chest.

Juliette
"I'm so sorry." Dr.Kelsey says frowning. I shake my head, squeezing Josiah's hand as the tears begin to roll down my face. "The bleeding was due to the fetus detaching." She says. "Your currently experiencing a miscarriage." I bury my face into Josiah as he pulls me against him. He doesn't say a word, but I knew he was hurting too.

That was 10 months ago. 2 months after he had left. Occasionally I'd see an article of him. But it was mostly in German. Their tours were all strictly in Germany. I tried calling him, but he had disconnected his number. I really did lose it all. Almost.

My heart was slowly beginning to race as I head downstairs. I finally see him, towards the back of the house. His head was tilted as he smiled at something she says to him. She laughs and playfully runs her hand down his chest. I scoff and make my way towards them.