“Elise,” he breathed out, looking at me, “you’re acting wild. You need to calm down. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It is for me.”
“You’re going to be fine –”
“Just another hour and we’ll talk –”
“No!” He pulled it toward him sharply and I fell forward, slamming into the ground. My elbows and knees took the force. I cried out from the pain and looked up at him. With wide eyes, he let go of the suitcase and dropped down to me. His hand touched my arm. “I’m sorry, El,” he apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
I moved away from him like a feral animal. Anger replaced panic for a fleeting moment, and I stood up and violently kicked at the back of his stupid fucking VEHI-KILL car with my bare foot, sending more pain through me. Then I grabbed his suitcase and threw it harshly into the trunk before closing it hard.
“You want to go?!” I screamed, kicking at the car again. “Then fucking go, Aston! I will never love you again once you do. You will never get me back! You will never, ever have me again, do you hear? You go and we’re fucking finished? Are you listening to me?”
He stood up and slowly backed away from me. He looked wretched, like my words cut him to the bone.
“I fucking hate you,” I spat out. “We’re fucking done! Get in your fucking car and go! Go, you fucking prick, just GO!”
He turned to the car and a bolt of terror shot through me. I ran to him, gripping him by the arm. “No, no! Don’t go! I didn’t mean that! Just stay! I promise, I won’t say that again. I swear, Aston. Let’s talk. Another hour, okay?”
He didn’t look at me once as he pushed my hands away.
“I’m sorry, Elise,” he whispered. “But it’s done.”
Then he climbed into the car and shut it. I stopped fighting and stood there, watching him turn his car on, that loud horrible noise of his engine filling my ears. He peeled out of the driveway and took off, blowing up the neighbourhood, not another glance behind him.
Not one glance.
I watched him until he was out of sight, and then I waited. He’d come back because he’d come to his senses. Even if it wasn’t to talk about us, he’d do it to make sure I was alright. It was a nasty fight. It was important for him that I was okay.
I waited.
I waited.
I cried as I waited.
I cried harder when I knew he wasn’t coming back.
I covered my face and bawled. Struggling for air, I could feel the eyes of the neighbourhood watching me. Their faces in the windows. Their front doors creaking open. Fucking Becky on her phone, all, “Debbie, Debbie, Debbie, you would not believe what I just saw!” The whispers would start. The rumours would spread. Everyone was going to know about us.
Everyone.
The tears dried in my eyes and I felt something within me…snap. Crack! It went. Like a lightning bolt inside my chest.
“You want to talk,” I whispered to them bitterly. “I’ll give you fuckers something to talk about.”
I turned back to the house and ran inside. I opened the garage door and went through Daddy’s toolboxes before I found what I was looking for. I went back inside, gripping the handle of the axe in my hand and ran up the stairs. It was like being removed from my body. I could feel the buzz under my skin, this hum that grew louder as I stormed in Aston’s room and raised the axe. I took one look around…
Then I let it drop.
I smashed everything in sight, clumsily and without good aim. I screamed as I went, cursing at the world, at God, at everything that had just been ripped from my hands. I smashed his window and threw his remaining textbooks out. I could already see the crowds forming outside their homes, and I laughed hysterically at the fuckers. “TAKE A PICTURE, WHY DON’T YOU! GO ON, YOUTUBE THIS SHIT, YOU FUCKERS!”
Then I smashed at his dresser. I swung the axe a thousand times. Over and over and over and over and over again.
I hated him! I hated him! I hated him!
“I hate you!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
He just left me. He didn’t even turn back! Not one glance! Now I was stuck with a mother who didn’t give a fuck about anything but her own misery, and my father was buried in the ground, rotting away, no longer existing. He didn’t exist anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And I was alone.
Completely and utterly alone!
I screamed until my throat was raw and my eyes ached from the tears. I’d gone feral, and I was enjoying the high watching the destruction before my eyes. It was soothing, the perfect remedy for heartbreak. I’d recommend it to Cindy the next time she bitched about a boy. We could go on a smashing spree: two axes, four hands, furniture as far as the eye could see.