"We agreed. If I won, you'd marry me someday."
"Why'd you wanna marry me, anyhow?" I ask.
"So, I can do this for the rest of our lives," he stops walking with me in his arms, his radiant blue-green eyes flickering between my eyes and lips as the ons...
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"There goes all your progress, Nads," I mumble to myself. I clutch the divorce papers in my hand, staring at his signature on the dotted line until it distorts.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, brimming over the edge of my bottom lashes and I do nothing to prevent them from falling.
One tear runs down my cheek, landing on Alec's signature and I try to wipe it away, smearing the ink.
"Shit," I cuss as another tear drops onto the paper, staining it. "Okay, fuck, Telana. Pull yourself together you lunatic."
"You can't keep doing this. It doesn't even make sense!" I scold myself for crying over something I wanted. Mourning over the loss of my marriage. A marriage I thought would last lifetimes.
"You need to pull yourself together," I breathe in deeply and release the breath through my mouth and I repeat it multiple times sounding like a woman in labor.
All abroad the crazy train! Once you're on there's no way in hell you're getting off. I promise there'll be plenty of fun going around.
I laugh out loud, feeling a lightness begin to seep into my chest, lifting the weight crushing my heart and lungs.
I feel like a genuine crazy person destined to be institutionalized.
I can see it now. In the coming weeks, I'm going to walk myself into the nearest psychiatric hospital and beg them to keep me locked up for the rest of my life. They won't need to drag me inside kicking and screaming but I would like the option just so I can choose to go kicking and screaming. All for the experience of course.
You're not funny.
Right, I'm not.
Rapid knocking brings my laughing to an immediate halt, and I freeze with the divorce papers still clutched tightly in my grasp.
I hold my breath, thinking, no, believing I've progressed to my next level of psychosis, imagining sounds which aren't really there to begin with.
Three rapid knocks, louder than before reverberate through the silence of the empty house and I finally breathe again. Followed by a long sigh of relief.
I'm not completely crazy.
I drop the papers on my bed, wiping away the tears drying on my cheeks, and I run my fingers through my messy hair. I take a quick look in my dressing table's mirror, hoping I look presentable instead of like the girl in The Ring. I don't want to scare the shit out of the person on the opposite side of the door although it would be hilarious.
The only thing I can see wrong with my appearance is my eyes, red and puffy from the crying. Nothing I can do about it now.
"I'm coming!" I call out, my voice croaky and hoarse almost sounding like that of a person possessed by something dark. Something demonic. That might be a bit too dramatic.
