The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 62.

|| Notice: This story contains things such as; strong language, sexual content and topics which people may not be comfortable with such as alcohol / substance abuse issues, and struggles with mental health. ||

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I stumble backwards as the cold and distant wind hits my face, the remaining fiery liquid splashing against the glass bottle in my hand. I steady myself and take another drink—the warm burning sensation in my throat being the only solace I can find.

I take a step forward, peering over the ledge of the roof onto the sparse oncoming traffic below, the empty streets of my home town looking nothing less than deserted, how ironic it is. As the memories of my previous time here, with him, fill my mind I take another large gulp from the quickly diminishing bottle in my hand—my knees becoming weak. I use my sleeve to wipe the tears from under my heavy eyes, placing one foot onto the ledge, gaining my balance as I listen to the sounds of the cars travelling beneath my feet.

With one more step I was there, at the highest point in the city for miles, on the ledge of the building where I conquered my fears as my choked cries become nothing more than a mere whisper amongst the nightlife and the occasional speeding car.

And so I close my eyes, the alcohol providing a numbness that I've craved for what feels like eternity—although the pain lays there, beneath the surface of the vodka induced emptiness; waiting, to creep back in. But no more, I was done with waiting for the pain to control me—now I, would control it.

"Amara, please, no!" I hear in the distance, a quiet but forceful yell. My head feels heavy, I don't look down.

"Amara!"

I snap my eyes open as my breath catches in my throat, I dart my gaze around the room to find Elijah's worried expression as he shakes me awake. My forehead is drenched in sweat, and my hands are trembling. It felt so real.

"Amara, you're safe." he tells me softly, stroking my hair as he turns on the small light beside the bed.

I grip the cover as I ground myself, each deep breath bringing me closer to reality. I'm in my bed, in my apartment, safe.

"Again?" he furrows his brow in sympathy, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.

"Mhm," I mumble shakily, gaining the strength to speak, "I was right back there, on the roof, all over again," I pant, placing my hand on top of his.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he sighs, handing me a glass of water from the bedside.

I shake my head, taking a sip of the refreshing liquid. My throat burns, as it did in the dream, maybe I was screaming. "No, I don't." I swallow.

"Alright," he smiles sadly, placing the glass back onto the cabinet and turning off the light.

He pulls me into his chest as we lay back down together, "Just know that I'm here, Amara." he tells me softly, holding me tightly in his arms and placing a small kiss on the top of my head. The calmness of the dark room, the sound of his sweet voice, and the feeling of being in his arms sends me back to sleep with a serenity I rarely feel anymore. I can only hope it stays this way.

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As I step inside the small coffee shop, the sweet smells of freshly baked goods fill my senses. I make my way to the counter, smiling at the staff I've grown to know so well over the past few months; I come here every morning before making my way to the hospital, the continuous routine helps me set myself for the day.