Pierced Love (12 page)

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Authors: T. H. Snyder

BOOK: Pierced Love
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“Were you just sniffing me Zar?” He asks with a smirk.

I quickly sit up and can feel my face flush. How embarrassing, what the hell was I thinking?

“No, umm. I mean of course not,” I stutter.

He laughs and pulls me back into his chest. For a moment I take the time to feel his warmth against me. I fit perfectly into him and his arms. As much as this is so new to me, it feels so right. No one has ever taken the time to be this close to me.

To spend time with me.

To see the real me.

To hold me.

“Hey Zar, you down there?” My mom yells down the stairs.

Her voice startles me and I shoot up

“Yeah Loudon and I are down here, mom,” I shout back at her.

I look at Loudon and he has huge a smile plastered to his face. I love to see his dimple when he smiles like that.

It makes me want to smile back at him, but I won’t.

Not right now.

“What are you smiling at?” I ask glaring at him.

“Well,” he starts to say and then stops to tuck a piece of loose hair behind me ear, “I still think it’s cute you smelled me a few minutes ago. Now your mom knows you’re down here, but does she realize what we were doing?”

I look down into my lap.

What we were doing.

We were only sleeping, is that wrong?

He tips my chin so that I’m looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I whisper back, “Loudon, I told you that this isn’t something I’ve done before. I mean have a guy in the house, alone when no one else was here. I don’t think it will be a problem.”

I hate that embarrassment is creeping through me right now. Everything about Loudon is the complete opposite of me and I don’t know why he’s even here with me. I’m sure he could be with his friends tonight.

“What are you thinking, doll?” He asks.

“Loudon why are you here? I mean…what made you choose to be here tonight and not out with your friends back home?” I ask, looking away from him.

I don’t want to know really, it hurts to think of what is really going through his head right now.

No one has ever considered spending time with me since that day.

So much has changed. If that day never happened, my life wouldn’t be like this right now.

In fact, if things didn’t happen the way they did, Loudon and I would be perfect for one another.

“Zar,” The sound of my name coming through his lips brings me back to reality.

“Huh?” I say looking back at him.

“Look, I don’t know why you are so shocked that I’d want to spend time with you, but I do. I’m not going to keep defending my reasons for wanting to be near you. Zar, you need to stop acting like I should be elsewhere when this is where I want to be. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come here.”

He sits up straight on the couch and moves away from me. His tone is firm and I can tell he’s pissed off at me.

I pull my hands into my lap and sit to face forward. I can’t look at him right now.

He has no idea why I feel the way I do.

He doesn’t understand why I hurt so badly.

He doesn’t know the pain I feel every day.

He can’t know what makes me the freak when I’m not with him.

A tear starts to run down the side of my face. I go to wipe it away and I can feel him watching me.

I want so badly to be normal and for this kind of thing to work out for me, but it can’t. A real relationship with him would be bad. He would hate me when he found out who I really am.

I look over at him and can see that he’s frustrated.

“Loudon, I’m sorry. This…us…it can’t, no it won’t work.”

He gets up from the couch and stands before me.

I look up into his bright green eyes and I see more hurt than anything else.

“Zar, I have no clue what the hell is going on. You have some serious issues pulling us apart and I’m not the kind of guy to chase after a girl. I like you. I think I’ve made that pretty clear to you. If this isn’t something you are willing to talk to me about or at least try; then what’s the point?”

He walks away and I can hear him walking up the stairs.

I want to chase after him, but why? Like he said, what’s the point?

We’re too different.

Ending this now before it starts, is for the best.

At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

I look down at my watch and see that it’s already after ten o’clock. I get up from the couch letting out a heavy sigh and start cleaning up the pizza box, soda cans and turn off the television

This night started out as a night I never wanted to forget, but now I want it wiped out of my memory as quickly as possible.

I walk through the room, glance around to make sure I have picked up any evidence of Loudon being here and then shut the light switch off with my elbow.

Walking up the stairs I can here mom and dad talking in the kitchen.

Great!

Once at the top of the stairs I can see that they are sitting at the breakfast bar.

“Hey, Zar!” Mom squeals with a smile. “We just saw Loudon leave. Did you two have a good time hanging out?”

So much for clearing him out of my mind, mom is going to soak this up as much as she can.

“Yeah, it was fun,” I lie, “we just hung out here to watch a movie and ordered pizza, nothing really exciting.”

I walk through the kitchen and into the garage to throw out the trash.

When I come back in, my parents are standing in front of the bar. They look like they are about to question me to death. I need to get away from this inquisition before I go into panic mode.

“Well, it’s been a long day. I’m going to head up to bed,” I say, walking straight past them.

By the time I reach the stairs I let out a huge sigh. I can feel my hands begin to sweat and my heart is beating a mile a minute. I try to take in another deep breath and my chest feels like a ton of bricks is putting pressure against my ribcage. I grab onto the banister leading to the second floor and attempt to take a step forward.

The quicker I can make it up to my room the more likely I’m able to release the pressure of this attack.

I take each step, one by one, clutching onto the wooden railing. Taking tiny little breaths I can feel the tension in my chest increasing. The fear that I won’t be able to take a deep breath is escalating and I hate that my fingers are beginning to tingle.

Tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

This is a bad attack, one of the worst I’ve had in a long time.

I can’t stop it from coming full force.

I look up through tear soaked eyes and I can see where the steps end and the second floor begins.

My legs start to get weak and I don’t know how far they’re going to carry me. I try one last time to take in a deep breath and hold on tightly to the banister. Slowly I try to let the air fill my lungs as I can feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of my face.

I can feel my body going into full blown panic attack mode.

The breath I’m so desperately trying to take in is stuck behind the building pressure within my chest. My hands are tingling beyond belief and my legs are shaking.

I will myself to take those last few steps.

Closing my eyes, I let my hands and feet guide me up the last few stairs.

As I reach the top of the landing my body feels as if it about to go into shock.

I’m trying my best to make it to my room, but I don’t know if I can do it.

I open my eyes, let go of the wooden railing and grab out to the wall for support. Sliding my body along the wall and dragging my legs down the hall, I reach out for the door frame to my bedroom. I can hardly breathe, let alone walk. This attack is taking over and it is past the point of fighting it. I flip on the light switch and my eyes open wide as I see my bed.

In only a few short steps I’ll be able to lie on my side and frantically try to regain my breath and the strength to pull myself back together. Walking through the doorway I shut my bedroom door, drag my legs to my bed and fall onto the covers.

Crawling my way to the top of my bed I lay my head on my pillow and work through my breathing exercises.

I pull my arms into my chest and hold onto my wrist that wears the delicate bracelet.

I close my eyes and imagine the sun.

The light is brings.

The warmth it provides.

In the light of the sun is the one place I’m scared to death to be; afraid the light will let the real me shine again.

 

That noise…what is that noise?

A tapping sound pulls me out of my sleep.

My head feels heavy and my mind feels groggy. I try to swallow but my throat is sore and dry.

The way I’m feeling this morning, it’s as though I hadn’t slept at all.

Rolling onto my left side I look over to the far wall of my room toward the window. I can see that the rain is pouring down along the side of the house.

It’s not like a typical rainstorm, more like a torrential down pour.

I roll on my back and take in a breath; a very deep breath.

Suddenly I’m taken back to last night and the thoughts of the panic attack come flooding back.

Chills run through me and goose bumps begin to cover my arms and legs. My entire body shakes for a moment and I attempt to pull myself out of the horrid memory.

That was one of the worst episodes I’ve ever had.

Actually, it was the scariest panic attack I’ve ever had.

I close my eyes and try to think back to what exactly triggered it. I need to make certain something like that never happens again.

Last night with Loudon was great until the realization hit me that I can never have a normal relationship with him.

It hurts me so badly to think about how I possibly could have hurt him.

We shared my first kiss, my first close connection with another person. But that moment is now gone and I don’t blame him if he never wants to talk to me again.

I mean, come on. How can a freak like me ever be with a guy like Loudon?

It can’t happen and I know now, better than ever, that it will never happen in my future.

“Ugh!” I say with a giant sigh.

I kick the down comforter off of me and toss my legs over the side of my bed. As I get up, I glance at my alarm and see that it’s only 6:45 in the morning.

“Great,” I mumble aloud. There goes that idea of sleeping in on a Sunday morning.

I walk toward the window. The rain is still coming down hard and the branches of the birch tree are swaying right outside my window. The clouds are dark and barely any light is coming in through the window. I turn around and glance across my room to see that it’s barely lit up.

I make my way into the bathroom and flip on the light switch.

Looking up into the mirror I see a poor reflection of myself.

I’m still wearing my outfit from last night, but it’s now a wrinkled mess.

My hair is matted down on the left side of my head and my make-up is smeared down my face.

I look like absolute hell and I feel even worse.

I spin away from the mirror, shed my clothes, turn on the shower and stand in the hot water for what feels like an eternity.

Once my skin has turned into a complete prune, I turn off the water and get out.

I need to put my best foot forward today and try and make sense out of why my triggers are becoming more frequent.

I finish drying off and make my way back into my bedroom to get dressed.

Throwing on some dark grey sweats and a black hoodie I grab up my diary from its hiding spot and throw myself into my favorite, super comfy chair near my bedroom window.

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