Painful Pleasures

I will not cry...

I will not cry...

I will not--

I bite my lip as the tears I have been fighting for the past ten minutes finally spill out, rolling steady and fast down my face.

As the stupid events replays in my head, I try to take a deep breath but it comes out as a shudder...

'April, you should have seen this coming...'

I squeeze my eyes as tight as I can, but when I open them, it's not a bad dream. I'm still stuck in the same reality, crying for the same god-damn reason and still feeling every last bit of my heart shattering into a million pieces.

As I lean my head on the window, I watch dark clouds envelop every ray of sunshine and I feel the weather is being controlled by my emotions. The streets are empty with few people scurrying to get a taxi and it looks like the world has ended.

To me, it has.

Everything I thought I could live with, everything I was familiar with is gone.

"This stormy weather is coming up pretty fast." My taxi driver says as he glances at me through the rear view mirror.

As I stare at his watchful eyes, I wish I had his thoughts now, I wish that my biggest concern was a stormy weather.

He looks at me again and I hate what I see in his eyes....Pity.

"You alright?" He asks and I look back outside the window to signal him I wasn't in the mood to talk.

He doesn't say another word and the drive goes on for another 20 minutes, all the while tears were streaming down my face.

The taxi finally made a turn at the Italian restaurant and headed down towards the university signboard

WINDERSTON COLLEGE.

"Is this alright?" The driver asks as the car moved to a halt directly in front of the school's premises where the front hedges are well carved and trimmed to spell out the school's name.

"It'll never be alright." I mutter and immediately, the heavy downpour begins...loud and unmerciful.

"Miss?" questions the driver.

"My dorm is still ahead, just a few blocks down past the Starbucks cafe."

For a moment, I don't realize I'm speaking. The shrivelling, scratchy whimper of words does not sound anything like the perky, excited voice this morning.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block out the events that happened earlier but they still taunt me,

'Hey, Mrs Davidson, is Jay around?'

'Yes honey, but he just left to meet you at your house.'

"This is the place?"

The driver's voice pokes into my thoughts and shatter the rest of the terrible memory. Grabbing my overnight bag that I had earlier tossed to the far end of the taxi, I drop a 100 in the drivers hand and ignore the shocked expression on his face.

I had nothing to do with it now...

"Remember miss, after the storm comes the calm." He shouts to be heard over the rain as I walk already drenched to my dorm.

Loud thunder crashes immediately as if to disagree with him and I couldn't agree more. By the time I get to the building, I'm soaked to the bone with a clouded chest and painful thorns squeezing at my heart.

"I cannot find my roommate so I need another key to my room." A girl at the desk sign out says as she takes off her raincoat and drapes it over her arm.

The tips of her chin length black hair are soaked when she turns over to me.

"You okay?" She says with so much concern that I want to burst into more tears but at the same time, I want to yell out of fury.

No, I'm not okay! I am not alright! I have been living a lie and no one cared to care.

And now I'm getting pity?

"Fine, just fine." I brush past the open raincoat she was offering to cover me with and by the time I get to the top of the stairs, my lungs have flattened to pathetic air deprived lungs and I'm on the floor in a moment.

Coupled with my heart wrenching sobs, it doesn't take long before I'm panting desperately for air.

As my breath comes in fast, loud rasps, I grab my overnight bag. In a desperate attempt to find the inhaler, I spill the contents on the floor.

Where is it? Please...where is it?

"Oh my God!" The voice I recognize as belonging to the dark haired girl shrieks in panic and she is by my side in a second.

"Oh, God. Okay...umm...inhaler?" She asks shakily and I nod frantically...all the while forcing little air into my lungs.

"Okay, okay." Her hands move frantically about the clothes on the floor and she digs it out of a socking.

"Here it is!"

She pops open the lid in a heartbeat and shakes it before putting it in my mouth and squeezing.

Pffffffftttt!!!!!!!! goes the object as the salty, minty air seeps into my throat and relief washes over me as my lungs open up. I squeeze it again and watch as the black haired girl packs my clothes into my bag.

"Better?" She asks after she is done and she looks a lot more relieved than I do.

"Thanks." I mutter and turn to open my door.

Thanks...thanks.

The word sounds weird coming from my mouth. I'm usually the one accepting gratitude and not giving it.

The understanding one.

The underestimated one.

The giver.

The one that sees it coming.

'April, you should have seen it coming.'

And just like that, the bombshell of my life drops and every minute that just happened; the attack, the black haired girl, everything is gone.

I'm back in my house.

Hearing the same words and sounds.

Feeling the same fear.

'Ginger...'

"Hey, can you hear me? You're my new roommate, surprising huh?" The black haired girl is saying to me but when I look at her, all I see is...

"Ginger." I mutter, staring at the auburn hair and blue eyes.

"What? No, it's Gretchen. Can you hear me?"

April, do you hear me? You should have seen this coming...

And the world goes black.

***

L is for the way you look at me...

O is for the only one i see...

V is very very, extraordinary...

E is even more than anyone that you can compare...

And the words of the song sink into my barely conscious, I am back in bed at home and dad is sitting near the nights stand singing the LOVE song before bed.

He always sang with his gruff voice, barely trying at all to make his voice sound like the main singer buy it's good enough for me to fall asleep.

Love is sell that I can give to you..

The song carries on however but with a very slight, barely audible feminine voice along with a background instrument. The voice is fading slowly and as I lean towards the sound, to grasp this little whisper of safe memories, a splitting headache slams in.

"Oh." I groan and blink open to see the black haired girl on her bed on the other side of the room. She is sitting cross legged Indian style and singing the song while playing the ukulele.

"Two in love can make it, take my heart oh please don't break it. Love was meant for me and you."

There are posters of old musicians like Michael Bolton on her wall and her bed is made in lilac coloured sheets.

"You're up!" She exclaims and drops her ukulele as she walks over a new, plush lavender rug over to my bed.

"Oh good. I was worried I'll have to take you to the hospital, considering the rain hasn't stopped." She says and thunder lashes out as if to agree with her.

"Feel better?" She asks, adjusting my blanket and I realise I'm wearing dry clothes.

What was her name again?

"I ordered pizza for dinner cuz I couldn't go out to buy anything with this rain.

Dinner? What time was it?

"But I ordered chinese for you...soup actually because of your cold and attack earlier."

"Listen, umm...." what was her name?

"Gretchen. Gretchen Hills." She says.

"Gretchen. Thanks, but I'm not hungry. I just need a shower that's all." I say stubbornly as I try to ignore her hurt expression while trying to get up.

The headache slams in all again but only harder and rips through my head like a beating thunder.

"Ow!" I groan.

"Maybe you should lie down for a little bit." Gretchen says as she gently grasps my shoulders and tries to lean me back in bed.

"I said I'm fine!" Yelling, I shrugged off her hands and glared at her.

What was with the pity? It's sickening that people suddenly care when they see you covered in snot and tears.

"I don't need your help okay?" I say and get up abruptly to prove to her that I was strong enough even though it suddenly felt like I was going to fall and the room had blackened out for a second.

I grabbed the wall for support.

"I'm sorry, I just thought--" Gretchen started to say but I cut her off.

"Thought what? That because you helped me during an attack, you're suddenly my mother?" I say with a sarcastic laugh and by the time I reach the wardrobe and turned around, Gretchen was back on her bed, cross legged and toying with her ukulele.

Ignoring the slight pang of guilt, I grab my shower bag and change into a towel before leaving.

The shower didn't help.

I thought it would, I honestly did but the feel of warm water pelting down on me only made me cry more.

As I sat there with my knees gathered up and pressed to my chest and my face buried within, I let the tears come.

Sobbing and regretting and sniffing and aching.

I wanted to get it over with, to feel and accept every bit of this aching truth...this slap of reality that I had been so naive and ignorant to accept.

By the time the tears stopped, my body was numb from the hot water, my face puffy and probably red as a cherry and I couldn't feel my legs.

The room smelt of pepperoni and chicken when I walked in and there was a huge chinese take out pack on my bed.

"I hope you like chicken soup, its the only one they had but I'm positive it's got enough noodles in it." She said.

Chicken soup.

That's right...she ordered dinner for me.

She was studying me with concern as though she was scared I would snap at her again.

"Thanks." I said and changed to my night wear. Gretchen was occasionally staring at me as I ate and I couldn't deny the fact that soup was the best idea. It warmed my insides even though I could barely taste it.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier." I said as I tossed the empty take out pack into the bin near the door.

"It's okay, people react in all sorts of ways when they're angry." She said as she shut her laptop and got ready to sleep.

"I'm not angry, Gretchen." I said as I switched off my bedside lamp and muttered,

"I'm broken."