Sara Part Two: Observation Existence by Katelyn Marie (early reader books .txt) 📖

Chapter 9: CHAPTERS TO FOLLOW

I don't stop. I don't know how. I reach for the phone. He hasn't called. I turn the phone on its face and dig deeper into the sheets. The room is blue, the sheets blue, my heart, blue. I think I'm going to die, maybe it won't be so bad. I'm alone again, only this time I know it and I believe it. I reach my arm from the comfort of the down sheets and reach again for my phone. I scroll through my contacts and I stop when I reach "mom." I wait a moment and think. The phone dials. I hear her voice on the other line and I hang up. Fuck it. I turn my phone completely off and lay on my back. I stare at the checkered comfortor above me. I want to be checkered.
I turn to my side, my arms wrapped tightly around my stuffed puppy, a gift given to me years back. I burry my face in the cloth of his "fur" and breathe deep. I close my eyes tight. Just breathe. Lips. Brown eyes. I see his shoulders and his chest. I see his freckles. I see me. I kiss his skin and I breathe in his scent. He smells like the sweetest fragrance of soap. He smells so damn good. He's above me. I run my hands over his triceps and draw him closer. He smiles and kisses me. Open. I sit up against the backboard, my knees huddled into my chest. My stomach turns and I stare straight ahead at the wall. I don't see him anymore, just the walls, just the yellow curtains. Damn it.
I move into the kitchen. The last rays of the afternoon are falling to the table. I stare at it. Sunshine. Fuck it. I boil water and pour it into my cup. Decafinated, only because it's healthy. I used to give a shit. I turn the lights on in the bathroom and let the water flow from the bathtub. I like the echoing it creates - the water churning. I undress myself. I brush my hair to the side, combing out the tangled mats in my hair from the oils. I haven't showered in days. I take a sip of tea. It tastes like shit. Hot shit. I climb into the bath. It feels good. Brown eyes. Green sheets. Soap. I run the bar of soap behind my neck, over my nippes, down my thighs. I slide down gently and let the water cascade over me. I listen. The water fizzles as it receives the soap, turning the water a murky grey. I shut my eyes for moments. He's there waiting. Fuck. I open my eyes. I sit up. The bubbles form around the outline of my body exposing my breasts to the air. It's cold and I cannot get away.
exposing my breasts to the air. It's cold and I cannot get away.
I can't revise my past, like I can this yellow sheet of paper. It can be corrected and simplified, but my mistakes - not so much. Fuck me. I cannot stop crying. How did I let myself get this bad? How could I have ever been so stupid? I wish I were dead. What use am I anyway? No one wants me. No one gives a fuck. And I cannot make them. How could anyone ever love me after the things I've done? I wouldn't. I don't. Fuck you. You are one stupid bitch.
I turn my phone on. Three new messages. Lucky me. A message inquiring, where I am. Another mesage inquiring, if I am okay. Another, simply saying, "I miss you." I stare at the last. I stare at the buttons highlighted on my phone and type. "I miss you too." Lies. Always a lie. The phone lights up and vibrates. "Come over, I really want to see you. I love you baby and I miss you." I type. "I miss you too, so much. I'll be over later on." Another lie. A smiley face comes blaring through the screen. Another lover, who has no idea who I really am. I'm not that girl, I'm really not. I'm only Sara. Simply fucked up, Sara.
I dress. A white tank, a blue blouse and skinny jeans. I wear my new boots that graced the ground of California. So shitty. I put on my jacket and turn the ignition in my car. Pink Floyd hums from the speakers, "I have become, comfortably numb." Appropriate, I think. Whatever. I turn the wheel and back out. On my way. I arrive at his front door. I ring the door bell, but he's already there. I'm annoyed. He pulls me in closely and kisses me hard on the mouth. "Baby, I missed you. How was your grandma's?" I stare at him blankly. "What?, Oh my grandma's you said?" He stares at me. "Oh, it was so good to see her. We went to dinner at her favorite restaurant and it was just such a nice time." He smiles at me. He isn't thrown off by my bullshit remark or the fact that I had absolutely no idea what the fuck he was talking about. Dumb ass. I smile back at him. "I'm so glad to see you." I am such a fuckin liar.
It is late. I climb in bed next to him. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek. I should be so lucky, I think. "I love you," he says. I don't answer. I don' t love him. I let him think that I am asleep. I already am in so many ways. It is morning. His alarms sounds. It is six a.m. I climb from under the sheets, rubbing my eyes. I pull off his over- sized shirt and throw his sweats to the floor. I put on the same shirt from yesterday. I pull on my jeans and then my boots. Those damn boots. He's awake. He stands up. He ensconces me in his arms and kisses the back of my neck. I cringe. "I have to get goin' babe. Love you." I lie. He smiles at me and walks me outside to my car. It's freezing, the frost covers the windshield. He stands on his porch, waving good bye. That poor asshole, I think aloud, with a smile. I wave back. Good riddance. I pull out of the drive and just like that, I am gone.
The sun is blinding, peaking over the trees. The leaves have all fallen. It's so ugly here. I press my foot hard against the accelerator. I don't have work today. I don't have anywhere in particular I should be. I am bored. The next few days I exist without ever really existing. I drink tea each morning, shower, read and then I fall asleep. I don't think of anything. I don't think of him. I don't think of California. I don't think of my other lover. I turn my phone off. No one can reach me. I like it this way.
It is Friday. The phone rings. It is my ex-boyfriend. "Come see me. I really miss you and I want to say good-bye before I leave." I shut my eyes. "I cannot see you, you know it won't end well," I say. "Please, Sara. I really just want to see you one last time." I hold my breath. There is silence on the line. "Ok. I will be there in a little while, but I'm not going to stay." I know that I very well could be lying again, not to him, but to myself. Who was I to kid. Of course I was going to stay. I would somehow find my way back into his bed. I hang up and open to a new sheet in my notepad. I write. It isn't about love. I'll never need the love of a man, just the love for adventure. I'm nineteen. I'm lost, but I'm not - in so many ways. I have no idea what this means, but I feel it. I write it and then I close the pad. I roll out of bed and fix my hair in a wooden bird clip I bought in Argentina last year. Five pesos. I stare at the wooden bird and twist the tail. It spins.
I turn down the long gravel driveway to his house. It is blue. He is waiting outside. He comes to my car and opens the door. "Sara", he says. I smile wide at him. "Hello you," I say with sincerity. He takes my arm and we walk to his house. He is the enemy but yet he is still everything I need. I remind myself, this is just an illusion. This is not who he really is. This is just who you want him to be. I enter and sit on his sofa. It doesn't take long and he has his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I shouldn't let him. I wriggle away from him. He catches my hand and smiles at me. "Sara," he says and I stare back. We don't say much else. I smile. I smile because I am happy. I smile because I feel normal again. Whatever that word means. "Sara, I'm changing. I'm not going anywhere this time. I promise you." I look at him. He doesn't mean it. He never means it. I look away and shrug. It doesn't matter to me anymore. I don't believe in promises. They always get broken. I rest my head on the opposite side of the couch arm rest. He grabs my left foot and rests it on his chest. He rubs it. I am comfortable and safe. I fall asleep. Please don't go away.
When I wake, the room is a pleasant green. The window is open and the air smells fresh. I turn slightly to the left and see his sleeping face. I smile. This is bad, I know it is, but for the moment it doesn't matter. It feels good right now. I nuzzle my face into his neck and he wakes. He smiles at me. His eyes are soft and familiar. I feel warm. He kisses me. I kiss him back. We don't stop. We don't know how. He slides his hand up my shirt, lingering briefly on my stomach. He touches the bone pertruding from my hip and gives it a gentle squeeze. He pulls me closer to his body so I can feel him. Our breathing quickens at a rapid pace then chokes off between each kiss, allowing a low groan to pass from my lips. He hears it, the simple "fuck me" call. I want this so bad. I want his touch. I need it. He pulls me on top of him, grabbing my ass with such an intensity that I almost laugh. I don't. It will ruin it. "Sara, I want to make love to you," he whispers between breaths. I kiss him harder and press my hips into his. He bites the bottom of my lip and I shiver. "Stop, please stop. We can't do this," I say. I ruin it. I stop everything. He stares at me with bewilderment. "I can't do this, I'm sorry." I get up. He takes my hand. "No, please don't go. Just stay. We don't have to. Just come back to bed with me." I want to cry. I wanted that so bad, but it wouldn't have been