An Affair of the Heart -- LiveWire Teen Forums

I pick at the deadening skin around my thumb and listen to the slow beating which I cannot be my heart. The seconds blur to minutes which blur to hours as I await his return. I leave my agonizing misery behind for a brief moment to put the kids to sleep.
"Good night Sammy, good night Josh" my monotone voice allows the idea of sleepless nights to be that much more believable. "Where's daddy?" Sam whispers. "He... had to work late". "Again...?" Josh whines. "Yes" I sigh and gently close the door behind me.
As I reenter my room I stare at my horrid reflection. How obvious is it that a woman has spent the last twenty four hours in blood and tears? How apparent is it that she has not slept properly in months? I sigh and crawl back into my most preferred fetal position. I hold my sides tight and try not to breathe. I try not to breathe because I know with ever short inhale, comes a long drawn out exhale, so painful, it feels as if my heart is pushing out pain; bitter, harsh, death defying pain, not blood. My heart has betrayed me.
Three o' four. My eye lids are lead as I attempt to lift them, with little success. My heart rate quickens to an uncontrollable speed as I hear the pounding of the footsteps draw closer and come to an abrupt halt. I let out a heart wrenching sigh at the realization that he no longer cares to hide his early morning arrivals. The door groans open and I squint at the overpowering light, the only light I've seen in days. And suddenly a world of gray begins to fade away as I begin to realize something: I don't have to stay.
He shoots a glance in my direction, and panic etches across my face. I crawl back into my comforting fetal position for a sense of temporary safety. He gives an angry grunt as he pulls back the covers and slides in. The shaking of the bed is enough to give me a headache and I know this is my cue to leave, and so I do. Ever so carefully I raise and leave the morgue of a room I lay so content in.
Seven fourteen. The kids door is cracked ever so slightly and it creeks open as I push it along. "What time is it?" Sammy asks groggily. I kiss him on the forehead and nudge Josh, "I know it's early sweetie, but we're going to grandma's today so I want you to pack your bags." The kids jump at the though and race to their closet for their suitcases. And for the first time in what feels like a life time, a slight smile spreads across my face.
I leave the kids in the living room watching Sponge Bob as I head towards my bedroom. And suddenly I feel as though I'm drowning in the ocean, sinking like a rock. I've lost my breath and I can't get it back. In fact, I have forgotten how to breathe. My fears all become a tragic reality, no just ideas anymore, as I reach for the door knob. It's now or never, I could escape or I could live in this constant misery forever. My head begins to throb as the oxygen rushes to my head, this is my chance, and I'm going to take it.
"Think like a feather" I tell myself as I flutter across the stone cold flooring. I grab a bag from the closet and look around the room. I bend down and begin picking up the pieces of this lost and lonely broken heart, tossing them carefully into the suit case, so I can sort them out later. The edges slice deeply into my palms, like tiny slits in veins, these paper cuts hurt worse than gashes. Each piece I lay to rest is stained with time. And some I leave behind. I cannot bear much more and head quickly for the door. However, before I close this chapter of my life, I must leave one final note. I pull a pen and some paper from the dresser drawer and speak my peace:
YOU'VE MADE ME BELIEVE THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN JUST WHAT YOU'VE BEEN GIVING ME.
I rest the paper gently on the pillow, where I no longer rest my head.
"Alright kids, let's go". They raise unknowing eyes at me, bright and dreamy, and full of excitement. Sammy rushes over to the television set to turn it off and then dances out the door. Josh grabs my bags and stands waiting of the porch. I steal one last look at the life I'm leaving behind, and stare hopefully at the two for which I am creating a new life for. Hot tears burn cold flesh as I step out into the open. "Why do you always cry when we go to grandma's mommy?" Josh wonders as gravel crunches down the old dirt road.

^My short story, how does it sound?

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Love is a privilege not a right.

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