Memories in Jars

Chapter 19

Author's Note: Bonjour, mes lecteurs! I am back! Thank you so much for dealing with me through all this slow updating. 

Motivation for this week goes to: Rain, snow, rain and snow at the same time (Yes, that actually did happen yesterday---crazy), popcorn, red wine, cuisine, chocolate cookies, chicken fingers, hockey helmets that fit, EOS chapstick, flying solo on Valentine's Day, the fact that I am currently listening to "the Christmas Song" in February, a Capella concerts, "Mona Lisa" by Nat King Cole, "Hotel Song" by Regina Spektor, "Champagne Supernova" by Oasis, Downton Abbey, polar bears, Brie cheese, coffee, gingerbread, rain jackets, olympic skating, bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens.  Did you get that reference?

Hope you enjoy this chapter! Please vote and comment, inbox me too!

This chapter is dedicated to ShanaxxBubbles, one of my lovely fans!

xoxo

Kay (dreamer44)

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----- Annabelle -----

            I lay in bed, staring at my jar of memories, just as I had been for the past hour.  I had gone to bed at one in the morning, after distracting myself with two movies, and it had taken me a good two hours to fall asleep.  After three fitful hours of sleep, I had awoken and thrown the towel in at six o’clock and had been laying there ever since.  The sun was shining through the window, illuminating the contents of my jar: numerous slips of paper, accompanied by a single silver and purple ring.

            Frustrated, I rolled over and got out of bed, heading for the shower.  My thoughts were singing a single tune: Maggie.  Should I call her? Or would she call me?

            After my shower, hair dripping, I threw on a pair of sports shorts and an old basketball shirt and crawled back into the comfort of my bed.

            Sometime later, I heard the front door open and close.  The sound of a few voices murmuring drifted up to my room.  A minute later, someone knocked on my door.

            “Come in,” I called, rolling over to face the door.

            “Hey,” Tim said softly as he walked into the room.

            “Hey,” I said back.  I closed my eyes and sighed as he sat down on the side of my bed and ran his hand comfortingly down my arm.

            “I’m so glad you came,” I whispered.  The only thing that was keeping me from breaking into tears was his thumb rubbing my wrist softly.  “Did she say anything to you?”

            “No.  But she didn’t come back to the house until seven, and she went straight to her room and locked the door.  I tried knocking on the door, but she ignored me.”  He began drawing spirals on my forearm with his finger.  “I take it that it didn’t go…entirely well?”

            I finally opened my eyes and looked at him.  Now, at last, a few tears leaked out.  “I said it all to her, told her everything.  And she just seemed so broken by the fact that I had kept it all from her.  You know, she had that look in her eyes.  So I just ran.”

            “It’ll be okay.  We can talk to her; we can sort it all out.”

            I shook my head in a way which I knew was melodramatic, though I ignored that notion.  “I was too scared.  I’m a coward.”

            “Belle, come on.”

            “No.  I’m a coward, and now I’ve gone and lost my best friend in the whole world.”