Peaches

Thirty

Life is a game and not the entertaining type that brought people together. These games were mind games, with sick players, and everlasting paranoia. It doesn't matter if you don't want to play. There won't be getting out until you do it yourself.

Or you could be lucky enough to have someone end the game for you.

I'm nothing but a pawn.

It seems my mental state has reached the best of me in the time that Chris has been away in Mexico. You'd think after him being gone so many times I'd find a way to manage somehow, but nothing could rationalize how I feel.

There was no knowing when he would come back. Not a single hint as to how long of a process it would be to handle the extent of damage control placed on his shoulders. According to his boss, Chris was now responsible for organizing a full smuggle. Millions of dollars worth in black market goods from one place to a new one. All the while protecting his crew from the watchful eyes of the DEA.

Chris said it himself.

We were fucked.

I wish I had listened to him when he tried to tell me how damaged he was becoming. He suffered just as much as I did, and I blatantly ignored it.

Of course, he can patch up his emotions long enough to move on, dedicating himself to the duties at hand. Like putting a bandage around a crumpled page already riddled with tears and imperfections, him bottling up that rage only broke him more.

I promised him that I would stay active. To eat and sleep at least a little bit, and spend my time being productive. I only wish that I had something to fill this empty space. Productivity is useless when you've lost your will.

The fridge was empty, as was my stomach, and that gave me a good enough reason to get out of the house. It wasn't a decision that came lightly, and I was near ready to back out of the plans I had thrown together, but I had to go. I couldn't keep my promise to him if I didn't try.

Chris had reminded me to let him know whenever I needed to leave, to give him all details of my outing so that we had some peace of mind.

I could respect that. I could understand why he would need to know, but that wouldn't prevent anything from happening. Neither would the GPS tracker on my car, or the cameras rolling on a nonstop feed. It was all a leap of faith, and really, for an outing like this, my only saving grace would be to stick to crowds.

Safety in numbers?

Sucking in a large breath, I clutched my purse tight to me as I walked through the parking lot to the grocery store entrance. The numbers weren't high here today, but I couldn't afford to sit around waiting for more people to show.

I had to ignore the steady beat of footsteps that I heard around me as I walked, trying to remind myself that it was just a person going about the day with their own agenda.

It was just my mind, right?

It wasn't real?

With a trembling hand, I lifted my shopping list to scan over the few items I set out to buy. On any normal occasion, I wouldn't need a list, and if I ever did write one it was simply to make sure I didn't get too distracted.

Funny where I'm at now.

Like a whole different person.

The first, and closest aisle to me was canned food. Simple and easy dishes that didn't involve having to cook anything were the only way to do things. Microwaves were my best friend when Chris was gone.

Concerned faces and pitying gazes followed me as I strode down the rows of soup, silently judging the heavy bags and wear of grief on my face.

I guess I don't wear it well.