09.Him

Evangeline reminded me of what it felt like to lose my mother when she was rolled on a stretcher to the hospital room. It was agonizing; she made me reveal my emotions and I was tired of fighting the sorrow. Waiting outside while the nurses do their job was the torture I had to endure, I couldn't even fucking get comfortable sitting on their hard rock chairs so I kept pacing.

"Young man, is your girlfriend going to be okay?" the old woman asked with apprehension imprinted on her face. The mere thought of Evangeline irked me because I didn't want to feel that way towards her. I had been trying my best to get away from her yet here I was, waiting for her to get better. I wanted not to care and just go back to the disruptive father and his prostitutes but I couldn't get my feet to go along the path of the hospital entrance. I wanted to make sure she was better.

"She's not my girlfriend," I amended. It was the truth; we were never going to be together because we were from different worlds, hers was promising and mine was shattered. It was almost like a beautiful contrast of how incompatible our lives were, "She's going to be alright." I continued with a strained voice.

The woman's blue eyes caught my hidden tied lie but didn't say anything, she gave me a pat on the shoulder and went back to sit in her wheelchair. I was still standing, watching the old woman adjust herself on the wheelchair.

"Don't strain yourself in the dark, accept the light." She said when she moved her automatic wheelchair to the room across Evangeline's. I didn't know what she meant by accepting the light but I knew that I was forever drowning in darkness and that was something I couldn't control.

"Mom, please stay with me!" I cried as I held onto her hand, running with her as they rolled her stretcher to the emergency room.

"Baby, be good to yourself, okay?" mom sobbed as her hand pulled away and the white doors closed as I collapsed on the ground.

"How can I be good to myself if you aren't here?" I whispered, staring at the closed doors that represented what I had become.

I rushed to the men bathroom and went inside the stall, unleashing my tears as the sobs of the usual pain numbed my body, I didn't like anyone to see me so weak because they would use the advantage of me so I let it all out inside the cubicle.

The remainders of my trauma continued to claw on my skin.

I sat on the floor with arms clasped around my knees as my red-rimmed eyes stared at the same color, it was always white. I hated the color white, many people said it was the color purity but for me, white was watching my mom die in pain, white was running with Evangeline to the same God damn white room, white was destructive.

I wiped the tears with the back of my hand and stood up to unlock the bathroom stall, what I saw amazed me, the blonde haired girl in front of me in a hospital blue gown and unattached needles in her left hand left me speechless but worried since she was in no condition to walk.

"I escaped the clingy nurses, it was the first time I had done a rebellious thing in my entire life and it was good." She said as her emerald eyes sparkled, lighting her pale skin up. She seemed so serious that I couldn't stop myself.

I laughed and she did too. We were in a hysterical laughing chaos like our troubles would vanish away.

We stopped and just gazed into each other's eyes. I didn't know how to escape, she knew that beneath this hard mask, I was vulnerable. I could never forget the way she looked at me when I was running beside her, it seemed like a beautiful raw hope. It was impossible but I swore that I caught it and kept it as a picture inside of my mind.

"Don't cry," she soothed as she wiped a tear from my eye and came closer to me, she was so beautiful even in an ugly blue hospital gown. I was a sucker for this girl that I could never have and someday, I wished that it could happen but it was like waiting for a war to happen. I couldn't drown her dreams with mine.

"This feels nice." She whispered as her hand was still on my rough scarred cheek.

With what remained of my force, I pulled her hand away as her eyes dimmed when she knew what was I going to do and I felt like a wounded jerk, she deserved much better. She deserved someone who wasn't me. An angry troubled soul with a sick father and a heavy baggage of the sorrowful past.

All I wanted for her was to sit on the stool in front of her piano and play on forever, with a smile, she would stand up when she finished and I wanted her to feel blissful when the crowd would go into standing ovation. I wasn't going to be there for her, tainting what she had worked through. I wanted her to be happy even if it wasn't with me.

"Why are you always stepping away from me?" her eyes filled with tears when she asked me that question. I was angry that she had to care so much about me so I did one thing I knew best. I got her to hate me.

"Because you're a coward, you like to hide behind your pathetic piano and act like you're a show-off." I snapped in my fake masquerade. She flinched, as if not believing what I just told her.

I turned my face away from her tears and clenched my jaw in frustration, I couldn't handle seeing her cry so I did the second thing I knew how to do the best. I walked away from the sad girl that had big dreams.

"Ryson." she shouted as I closed the bathroom door and went to the entrance with punch-shaped hands, my eyes never found peace, the pain exhilarated my body and I was a walking travesty.