"Her troubled eyes held fire. The kind of fire that was capable of burning me to ash."
*****
I grabbed her chin with my free hand, making her look at me. "I hate that I don't know you. I hate not being a part of your life, like I was before."
I lean...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*Two weeks later*
Emily's P.O.V.
I felt a cold breeze on my face as I walked on the sidewalk and saw kids playing in their front yards without a care of the world.
When did it all change? When did it all slip away?
I sometimes feel like, I was that age, doing the same just a few days ago.
But here I am now, in a city that holds too many memories that seem very distant now.
I looked up, squinting at the morning sun before tossing the stick of a cotton candy into a dustbin.
Reaching my destination on foot, I looked up at the sign at the gate.
WELLSPRING CEMETARY
With a blank look on my face and a white rose in hand, I walked in.
The guilt of not having visited him since the accident made me walk here, early in the morning. Or it could have something to do with the fact that it was my birthday today and it's not quite of a surprise that I hate my birthday.
I don't like to be around people, let alone actually celebrate this day.
I reached his grave and slowly placed the rose on it.
"Happy birthday Ethan." I breathed out with a small smile.
I feel like a bad sister as this was my first time visiting his grave since the quiet funeral, right after his accident. And I was a crying mess that day.
I'm pretty sure, if we hadn't moved, I would've spent every one of my birthdays here, by his grave.
I don't know how long I spent, just standing there at his grave.
With no motivation to do anything or go anywhere else, I sat under the shade of a tree near his grave.
It's been exactly two weeks since the Alex incident and this is the first time that I've seen the sun shine.
After I gained consciousness, my first thought was if Ryder was okay.
After a couple of tests, I was told that Ryder had surgery and that he had reached the hospital just in time. The bullet that just missed from piercing his lung and a surgery had to be performed to safely remove it without further damage.
The surgery was successful and he's out of danger but the doctor said that, when he wakes up, is undetermined, since his body had gone into a state of shock.
The guilt I felt was impenetrable, but I also felt undeniable relief because I hadn't lost him, completely.
I refused to leave his side since then, even after I was discharged. I spent the days talking to him about anything I could think of, threatening him to wake up and making several discreet promises.
