CHOICES (Completed)

PROLOGUE

I hold my arms protectively around me as a childish attempt to brace myself from the storm I knew was going to leave me broken. My eyes close shut so forcefully that I would have almost felt a stinging pain, had I not been in the midst of facing the one experience I dreaded the most.

A large crowd stands all around us enjoying their front row tickets. And the reason behind me using the pronoun 'us', is standing ahead of me, like a tower holding sole power to destruction. To crumble down on me, and not feel one bit responsible.

"Wow, Young..." the coldness in his voice shakes my insides as it drips of taunting humour.

"... You actually thought this could happen? That we could be a thing? That I being I, would choose you, of all people?"

The little of my self confidence that I had preserved and boasted of all my life had just died a mosquito's death. Careless. And barbaric. The tear my eye sheds fails to bring the much needed warmth to my now ice cold body.

It's almost impossible to believe that I had literally melted away like chocolate at the sound of that voice, even more so when it took my name.

An eerie laugh erupts as I look up to find that one person I had adored with all my being, ruthlessly murdering that very same being of mine. How did it come to this?

In two confident strides he stands in front of me. I shudder.

"Sweetheart, your self obsession is commendable. But just take a look around," he chuckles and waves his hand carelessly.

"... And now look at your very own - pathetic - and delusional self. I am in no shortage of choices here, darling."

It hurts. I wish it didn't, but damn, does it hurt.

I gulp in the tears trying my best to not sob, especially in front of such an audience. Hushed murmurings have now turned into full blown hoots and mockery. I feel my knees shaking and I run out of breath.

But I'm not going to show. I'm going to cry, surely, but behind closed doors - alone. Not in front of these people, who just want a show. Not in front of this person I don't even want to look at anymore.

He takes a few casual steps around, clearly enjoying his fulfilment at my humiliation. Public humiliation.

I look at him in bewilderment. Is this the man I knew? Or worse yet, did I not know him at all?

He turns around suddenly with a jerk, all traces of humour gone, his hazel pair of eyes radiating anger and sheer hatred.

In a few quick and menacing steps he reaches me. Too close. Before today this would've filled me with welcoming adrenaline but today, I would be lying if I didn't admit that it scared me.

He grips both of my arms roughly, and I could see his vehement eyes through my glassy ones.

I hold my breath as I feel his rough hold leaving marks on my arms. His fragrance hits my nostrils, paired with his minty cologne and sweat. I can feel hurt, oozing out of him, directed at me. I feel the stab of his impending words, before he even says them.

Don't do this, please.

"The mere sight of you pisses me off like hell. All this - while I had only been civil, the least that my sympathising self could have afforded for someone like you."

Every whispered word slices through me, his hateful, hot breaths fanning my face.

"Now if you want to hold on to the almost negligible remnants of your self respect, you will do well to remember, to never remind me of your worthless existence, by showing me that hell of a face ever again. Do I make myself clear, Theresa?"

His penetrating eyes stare deeper into my gaze and my eyes start stinging. Whether the reason was the water leaving them precociously, the eyelids refusing to blink, or merely he, I know not. I feel an exhaustion overcome me. And suddenly, I just want to run. Away.

I can't believe I had loved this proximity. I had loved hearing my name from him. And I had lov-

"You will answer me."

I feel myself getting numb by the second as an invisible clock ticked by in the background and the now deadening silence screamed of a rescue I knew would never come.

"ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT!!!"

I jolt awake with a jerk and an involuntary gasp escapes my lips.

I am in a daze as I try to control my erratic breathing and silently take in my surroundings. Light enters my eyes too quick and I have to squint them to adjust.

"Ma'am, are you alright? Can I get you something?"

I look up to see a lady with kind eyes, waiting for my answer.

"Yes I'd like a bottle of water please. Mineral. Sparkling. Preferably cold. Thank you."

The water helps. Sugar. I need sugar. I fish for the chocolate bar in my denim pocket that I always carry and take a desperate bite of it before taking in a deep breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Brooks welcoming you to Liverpool. In a few minutes, we would be landing at the Liverpool John Lennon Airport.

Local time 1800 hours. Temperature 15°C.

For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt safely fastened.

Please check around your seat for any personal belongings you may have brought on board with you, and please use caution when opening the overhead bins, as heavy articles may have shifted around during the flight.

All luggage to be collected from belt 7. Cabin crew is requested to be seated for landing.

On behalf of Skyhigh Airways and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for flying with us. Have a nice evening."

I focus every inch of my attention on the captain's voice overhead, trying to diffuse my tension through his words.

I take in a deep breath as I run my fingers through my hair, silently pressing my scalp.

Hell.

Even after all this time?!

KABOOOOOOMMM!!!

*superman pose*

Prologue out. Waiting for views.

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