What A Time| h.s. |

35. From the Dining Table

Pink and red balloons.

Haunting music playing.

Green eyes filled with regret.

Blue eyes filled with amusement and hate.

Mr. Gerard asking if I am alright.

Silence.

Camera phones.

Pain.

Gasping, I sat up in bed and clutched my chest as I tried and failed to calm myself down. The memories of that horrible night began to melt away from my half awake mind as I reached feebly for my cellphone to check the time.

6:14am

My phone all but laughed at me. I didn't have to be at work until noon today and yet here I was...up earlier than the birds.

It was still dark, the light of the sun just slowly brimming this side of the world to get us up and out of our beds to take on the new day. It was a beautiful sort of twilight outside, my fingers peaking between the blinds beside my mattress to get a good look at it.

My violin called to me from the other room, my hands itching to play but...something in me was telling me not to. It was like my body craved the feel of the instrument but nothing in me actually wanted to play it. I didn't quite understand it...it made me feel...out of control of myself.

I'd been feeling out of control for a while now.

I liked my day to day. Everything was anticipated...everything had a specific order to it but as of late things had clearly been shaken up a bit.

Shaken...and diced...and shredded.

The conversation from just the day before with Kira was on instant replay in the back of my mind.

I had to admit, I empathized with her to a certain extent.

I couldn't imagine what her pain must have been with all of that going on with her dad. Unfortunately for me, I was as much to blame for the loss of contact as she was. I'd been a brat and an emotional wreck that first year after graduating and of course Kira would pull away. Not everyone was up for the task of dealing with me back then...I couldn't completely blame her for backing off.

However...I could blame her for choosing to repeatedly see the guy I'd been in love with and who I'd had my heart destroyed by. Yet, she was still seeing him now...even after everything.

I flopped back onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling...not for the first time. It was always like this after one of my nightmares.

The pained look in Harry's eyes after I'd told him I'd wished I'd never met him and never let him in flicked across my mind's eye and tugged at the poorly put together organ in my chest.

Had I meant that? Had I actually meant it?

I couldn't say. Even now I knew if he really begged, if he really begged me for my forgiveness that I'd do it. I'd do it so easily despite not wanting to.

He'd abandoned me and now he was hooking up with my former best friend but I'd still let it go if he really asked it of me.

She saved me from myself.

I huffed, tossing an arm over my eyes as my heart rate accelerated. What was I supposed to do now? Was I just supposed to forgive her because he'd asked me to? Because he'd been the one to make the first move? I didn't owe him anything. I didn't owe her anything either. They were both willingly choosing to be together.