will it ever end!?

on the road

*so people of the wattpad world do u like it so far ill try to make a new chapter or two every week so hope u like chapter two and three*

chapter 2 - sean

Sometimes I hate them. Then I hate myself. I want to tell Jamie, "Dude, she's my sister. What the hell do you think you're doing?" I think if he doesn't take his hand off of her ass, I'm going to break his arm. Then break his nose for sticking his tongue down her throat. It's not like I'm not sitting here with nothing better to do than be assaulted by the sound of them sucking each other's face off. A guy should never hear his sister make those noises. EVER.

I can't take this anymore. Sam keeps asking me if I'm okay. I'd like to say, "Of course I'm not okay, you stupid bitch, I had to blow up my fucking girlfriend's face and set her on fire. Now I have to watch you and Romeo over there drool all over each other. Half the time I can't tell where you stop and he starts. Now shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone!!!" I don't though. She doesn't get it and if she's lucky, she never will. Neither of them will. I hope. She loves me and she's worried. I get that. That's why I tell her I'm fine. She knows I'm lying, but she lets me get away with it for a change. She wouldn't have before.

I decide to go for a walk, needing to get away from their togetherness. The cuddling, kissing, and smiles I see them share are like sandpaper on a fresh scab, peeling away the layers slowly, excruciatingly, drawing the pain out until it explodes in a moment of violence and despair. I escape to an outer office, filled with broken picture frames and memories. I hope vaguely in the back of my mind that it's far enough away that they won't hear me, or bother me, or see me shatter. I close the door and punch the wall over and over again; not noticing that the once sterile white plaster is now broken and bleeding, literally falling apart in front of me.

Then the memories slam into me, knocking me into the bloody wall with their sudden impact. Erin jumping up and down because she got an A on her Chem test. Erin watching the band play, right up at the stage, screaming like a fangirl. Erin running her fingers through my hair, tugging on it, telling me she likes it long enough to play with. How pissed off she would get when I flirted with the pseudo groupies at the bar where we played every Friday night. How easy it was to get her to forgive me for flirting, the little moans in the back of her throat when I loved her with my hands, my mouth and my body. The look on her face, scared and happy at the same time, when she told me about the baby. The way she kissed me when I asked her to marry me a few weeks later. The way she cried when we went to the doctor and heard the baby's heartbeat, so strong and fast. The way she looked at me when she wanted to eat me. No more love, no more life.

I feel the tears that have been lurking below the surface for the past month rise and escape. I fall to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I can't think, can't breathe, and can't escape how much this hurts. I feel my fists clenching and unclenching, aching to hold onto something, someone, her, them. I hear her voice, feel her arms wrap around me. Somehow, I feel her move so she's sitting in my lap. I'm afraid to open my eyes, afraid that she won't be there if I do. She wraps around me just like she used to. She whispers that they are okay. She tells me I saved them. She still smells like vanilla, warm and inviting. Her words make me cry harder and cling tightly to her slender form. I tell I love her. I tell her I miss her. I hear the smile in her voice as she comforts me "I love you more Sean Michael Jenson and I always will." I smile in return, knowing that she is right. I fall asleep there, sitting with my back against the wall, my fiancée back in my arms where she belongs, snuggled up together like we are both really there.

When I wake up, I feel empty. My eyes feel dry and tired. My body aches and there is dried blood all over my hands. I remember last night. I remember it all. I know she wasn't really there, but it felt like she was and I have to hold onto that. As I get up and begin to make my way to the shower, I feel a plan form in my mind. I have a way to make things right, to atone for what I did to them. After the bloodstains and tear streaks are gone, my brain kicks in and the plan takes on a life of its own. Somehow, I feel a renewed sense of clarity and purpose.