"Don't worry," he says. The edges of his frown tugged
upwards with a false smile. "Be happy!"
"Happy?" She laughed, her hoarse tone making him wince.
Slowly, maliciously, she looks up at him. The cold,
distant
look in her eyes have been replaced with irritation and a dull
sense of anger. "Happy? You're telling me to be
happy?
Even after all these years?"
He falters, "Why, of course . . . I want you to be
happy."
Her threatening gaze is chokingly dangerous.
"When you were a child, you feared the dark." She began,
"When ever you entered that dark hallway at night to go
to
the bathroom, you felt as if it engulfed you. You were scared of
the things that were inside of its seemingly endless void.
And you would run, hoping to escape it and return to the light. And
your parents . . they'd tell you, 'Don't be afraid of
the
dark, Tommy. There is nothing to fear'. Yet, no matter how hard
you tried, the overwhelming feeling of paranoia overtook
you the moment you stepped into that darkness."
Her eyes locked onto his. He felt so exposed around her. He felt so
. . . so . . insignificent. So tiny. So weak. As if she could see
into his very soul.
Feebly, he nodded. "Yeah . ."
The girl took a deep breath before starting once again. "Then
don't you dare tell me to smile after all these years
of
depression, emptiness and isolation. Because you know full well,
Thomas! You know full well that no matter how hard
I try , I will not be able to pull off a real smile!" She
fumbled with the zipper of her sweater, trying to regain her
composure.
"Abby - "
"Enough." She hissed. "I've had enough of your
false hopes and support. I'm done."
He watched her go. He couldn't do anything. . . he felt so
useless. He felt so . . so . . so insufferable and
undeserving.
She had waited on him. She was patient with him. The girl could
have abandoned him years ago, because she knew. He
knew she did. She knew that every single compliment, inspirational
speech, every seemingly comforting hug was false.
Why? Because he didn't know and he didn't care. Nor did he
know how to comfort her breaking form. So he lied.
And now he could feel the broken, empty feeling she had felt all
these years when he watched her shoulders bounce as
she walked, holding in the sobs that threatened to escape her
lips.
And he knew all along, despite his mocking words, that she had
forgotten how to
smile.
"Don't worry," he says. The edges of his frown
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·
Aug 20, 2013 7:26pm
