Stepping Stones Ch. 00

Twelve O'clock the alarm blinked every second. I rolled over and saw a picture of James.

Why him?

Why Him, why him?!?

I think it is more like why me. I thought he was the perfect roommate; everyone said I had nothing to worry about.

He was always willing to spring for pizza or a flick. So why did I fall for him? How could he do that to me? Most of all, how could I love him and hate him at the same time. The memory seeps through me and all the pain from that day came flooding through.

I could not stop the tears from falling; this was the first time since it happened that I had the opportunity to feel real emotion. The pain I endured that night hit me hard. I willed the tears to stop but the stubborn tears wouldn't subside. I curled up as small as I could, drawing the covers over my head. I just wish I would disappear and this chest pounding pain was a dream I want to wake up tomorrow and all this pain be gone. I yearn for it to go back to normal; why can't I just be normal again? My sobs echoed in the dark, empty room.

It seemed like years had gone by before the tears finally disappeared from my aching eyes. Maybe if I got up and heated some tea maybe, just maybe I could sleep this night away, unlike the others. Never mind, it probably would not do much for me anyway. I might as well get up, as there's no way I could sleep now. I flung back the blankets and threw my feet over the side of the bed in disgust.

I got up and started walking toward the living room to relax, but when I got near the kitchen I heard a crashing sound.

All thoughts left but one. Don't be him!

Please don't be him! Dear God, don't let it be him!

I tried to run but it seemed my legs had roots instead of feet. My breathing seemed incredibly loud against the darkness, God help me. I leaned in trying to pinpoint the sound. I heard another rustling in the kitchen. I willed my feet to move but my stubborn fear held me to this spot.

Then I saw my baby come strutting out of the kitchen, coffee grounds and gravy smoothed through his golden coat, and the meat I threw away earlier dangled from his mouth. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

He stopped when he saw me. He looked at me with that half-cocked head turning from side to side as his beady, black eyes pierced through the nights glow to see if he was in trouble. He must have sensed my fear mixed with relief because he whimpered lightly then backed into the front room to gently sit on his bed. I just gaped at him. It's just my Sammy. Breathe Jackie, come on girl, breathe.

Once I was sure I could walk without hitting the floor I headed toward the kitchen. My legs had the rubbery shaky feeling that too much exercising brings on. It was like trying to get spaghetti to stand up straight. I leaned heavily on the wall as I ventured toward the dark emptiness my baby just abandoned.

As I rounded the corner to the kitchen I spotted the kitchen graffiti Sammy left. The only trash bag I had used to clean the corner of the attic was ripped apart as well as the bag I had used to clean the ice box. A mixture of old, musky, torn clothes and crumpled papers were covered with gravy and coffee grounds. Swirls of colored flour and what was left of Tuesdays meatloaf scattered from one end to the other.

From the corner beside the ice box, to the door I had spent so much time making curtains for, little paw prints circled the room, and a single paw print was on the bottom of the fridge door.

I grabbed another trash bag and started flinging the mess back into it. I couldn't hold my anger down. Although it wasn't my baby I was mad at and I was glad to see hom come through that door, it was the fact that anybody could have come through that door, anybody.

Even though I had managed to keep busy all day and for the majority of the night, I knew there that there was no way I could sleep now. Fine I'll take a hot shower, get dressed and decide what I'm doing the rest of the time till I must go to Stefan's.

I stood under the hot fingers massaging my back, and all I could do was cry. My tears were washed away by the gentle indexes trying to wash my pain away. I stood there till I felt I could again face the cold, empty house.

After I gave Sammy a bath, I went and sat on the porch swing. The sun definitely looked beautiful as it stepped above the horizon. The blue and orange collide making a light violet streak across the otherwise midnight sky. It's like a painter miss-striking the painstakingly perfect spot; it stands out from the rest of the painting.

I finally felt relaxed enough to sleep. Ok. I pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and curled up. I looked down at Sammy curled up at my feet. It's hard to believe he is almost two. It seems like time goes by so fast at times that you just forget to look around and say, "Hey! I'm a part of this charade too." Then there are times that it goes by so slow that you just wish you could die or become faster than the world. That's mostly when you're younger though. The moments you want to forget stick with you and some you want to remember just vanish.