The City | GirlxGirl

twenty three ➳

Jude blinked through the sun of the early Sunday morning, aware that somewhere in the blend of living room and kitchen, her phone was ringing. Annoyed that someone was calling her so early in the morning-which was really 10AM, but that seemed like dawn after a late shift-she let it ring, ring, ring, as she slowly pulled her tired body up from the couch. She missed the first call, but it was followed by an immediate re-dial. Not even enough time in between to leave a message. Jude picked up her speed then, shuffling over to the kitchen counter to retrieve her phone, knowing that there had to be some sort of emergency if someone was calling so insistently.

Thom Stanton.

Why did she still have his phone number saved? Nevermind that, Jude thought, shaking her head in a sort of twitching, rapid movement. Why was he calling her? After a month of the raised voice, the raised fist, and her leaving, he was just calling now.

She immediately rejected the call.

And she knew that the tears stinging the sides of her now wide open eyes weren't from the sunshine radiating around the room.

This time there was no re-dial. Instead, there was a voicemail. Jude wasn't sure she wanted to listen to it. She'd hear the voice she had woken up and fallen asleep to for years. If it was an apology, she knew she wouldn't accept it, but what if it made her hate him less? And did she even hate him at all?

She was torn. Caught in the middle of breaking and being broken.

A text message flashed across the screen. She knew it was going to be Thom, but she wanted it to be Skylar. Would having Skylar at her side when she listened to the message lighten the emotional impact she knew it would have on her?

No. She couldn't let Skylar be her shoulder to cry on. Not only did she think Skylar would hate being used just for comfort and for support, she wouldn't let herself depend on somebody else to bring her happiness. Skylar was great. She was nice to her, she was mysterious. And good looking. But she was stubborn, and so rigid. Jude imagined Skylar being her support system, and the pieces didn't fit the puzzle. Skylar was nice to her, but she wasn't kind. She was warm when Jude was around, but she was cold nonetheless. And Jude was independent. She wouldn't let someone else take her sadness away, lift the heaviness on her shoulders, or in any way save her.

She took a deep breath. And then she lifted her phone off of the flat surface of the table, feeling like her body was slipping, slipping, slipping, off a steep hill, and she looked at the message.

Thom Stanton: Jude, please answer. This isn't about me. Your parents are trying to reach you.

Jude frowned. The only messages she had received from her parents since leaving Thom were slim to none. One from her father, and three from her mother. All a few days apart, asking if she had settled down, assuring her it was alright to be anxious while experiencing a huge change. They were meant to be comforting. A handful of words, chosen carefully with the intention to soothe. Their words made Jude's skin itch: blisters that bled. Every time she thought of her parents now, she watched blood cascade against her skin; never gentle, but sharp, like razor blades, creating more blisters and cuts that never grew into scabs. A hopeless recovery.

She didn't want to forget her parents existence. It was the same with Thom. But how could she talk to people who didn't believe her about something this huge? Her parents should be at her side right now. They should be taking her hands, walking her through the steps of recuperation, just like they held her and helped her through things like learning to ride a bike, and to read. Jude reminded herself, sadly, that she was an adult. She was three hours away from her parents, and the comfort that they should be providing wouldn't come because of their refusal to admit that the Thom they had known for years was actually a monster. Jude knew it would be hard for them to accept. But it was much harder for her. If only they had seen the bruises. Then they would've had no choice but to believe her.