Loving You (Loving #1) | ✓

Chapter 4| A Small Whisper

I go home tired. I feel drained of energy, like I just ran a marathon. I haven't even done any sport today, I even skipped gym class, but I still feel so damn tired. Perhaps it's because of all the effort I spent keeping my shit together? I mean, it's tiring to keep your cool all the time when all you want to do is scream. I feel like it's unhealthy of me to keep everything bottled up—actually, I know that—but I don't think I have someone to vent to.

Johnny is a great friend and a great guy in general, but I don't think we're close enough for me to be throwing my life problems at him. My father isn't an option; he doesn't even feel like a father. My mother isn't an option now either; she lives in a different state, and I don't really want to call her. I don't even have that many friends other than Johnny; I don't really get along with most of the people in my grade.

I get a flashback to the times I used to call her to at times like this. When we became friends, I always vented my heart out to her. She was the greatest listener I'd ever met, honest to God. She knew what to say to make me feel better—away from the fact that her mere presence made me feel better—and I liked that.

As I lie down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I start to remember all the days we spent together, the laughs we shared, the memories we made, the good times, and even the bad times. I start to feel sad, guilty. I brush my blonde hair away from my forehead. The memories strike a feeling of nostalgia and longing inside of me and it slightly hurts, but I was too tired to even feel anything. I felt sad, but the sadness also felt like it wasn't even there. Thank God it's Friday. I don't think I would've been able to last another school day.

I get up and grab my yellow notebook and a pen from my bag beside my bed. I put the pen on the paper, and with swift movements, I'd already written almost the whole page. I sigh inwardly and close the notebook, putting it back in my bag with the pen. I massage my temples and drape my blanket over myself.

I decide that I should sleep, so I close my eyes and lie on my side, snuggling into my blanket. I can just forget about everything in my sleep, right? Sighing, I stretch my arm out to the wall and turn off the lights. And, for once, I fall asleep quickly. But, as always, I sleep with Gabriella being the last thought on my mind.

And amidst my sleep, I hear footsteps enter the room, a hand on my upper arm, and a deep voice whisper in my ear. "I'm sorry, son," I think it says. Then I feel the hand retracting, and the footsteps descending away from me. I open my eyes but find no one, and I'm left wondering if that was just a figment of my imagination.

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