Broken Ch. 15

Madi's head pounded. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't breath. Darren was going to call her father, and she would be the fuck up again. Everything would crumble again. She couldn't have that. The tightening in her chest ripped through her torso, making her gasp. She gulped air as she paced, fingertips in her hair trying to do think desperately of what to say. Daddy, Darren's just mad at me for... Yeah, because that made a lot of fucking sense. There was nothing feasible. Dammit, there was nothing feasible. A hand rose to smack against the wall. The pacing became more frantic, she was walking circles. She sighed and dropped to the ground as the tears came again. She was walking in circles. It was all the same. It wasn't the line of a frequency, waving with dramatic up's and down's. It was a circle of madness that would never end. This was her life. Face fell to her knees as she sobbed, not even the throb of the earlier cuts giving her calm.

She didn't want to be anymore. She didn't want to be dead or alive or here or anywhere else. She wanted to vanish. She wanted to have never existed in the first place. Her mother had been right all those years ago, she was a mistake. She tried to swallow the painful lump in her throat but she could only sob. She could disappear. If not from herself than at least from everybody else. She rose,dragging a suitcase from her closet to the center of the room and throwing objects in it haphazardly. She would need money, and underwear, and.. what did you bring when you ran away? What was essential? Eyes fell to the picture of Dimitri on her nightstand, the glass spiderwebbed in the corner, the cracks that radiated from it streaking over his face. Fingertips ran over it gingerly, her sniffling making her torso rock back.

Dimitri watched with sad eyes as Madi stopped her frantic packing to spend such a tender moment on him. There was no way she didn't love him. There was no way she didn't care. When Darren had told him what was going on he didn't know what to feel. He was enraged, and upset, and he felt guilty. Even now, he felt guilty watching how frazzled she was. She had been so wrapped up in her own insanity she hadn't even noticed him watching. He cleared his throat, the only audible way to make his presence known when he was so unsure of what to say. She wheeled around, obviously frightened. Eyes were red and puffy, cheeks wet with sticky tears. She just stared at him, neck twisted to look back over her shoulder, fingertips falling from the frame to the surface of the nightstand.

"Where you going?" His voice was soft as he dared to take another step into the room. She was still and silent, almost equivalent to a deer in headlights. She was afraid. But of what? He took another tentative step forward, Darren's eye was quickly blackening where she had hit him and Dimitri did not want to suffer from the same fate.

Where was she going? She watched him. She didn't know. Not that it mattered. Hopefully she was going to the bottom of a river. That sounded wonderful right now, water making her hair weightless silk as she sunk wrecklessly, hands towards the surface, limbs unmoving. The wonderful weightlessness of giving up, or giving in. Giving in. She was giving in to her destiny. She didn't belong here, she didn't deserve this. "It doesn't matter."

"How can I write you if I don't know where you are?" He wasn't really sure where he was going with this. She was so fragile, filled with so many more hairline fissures he couldn't see from a distant. A decaying marble statue. She was a broken lamp glued back together only to have the process repeated countless times. Maybe he should have run right then, but those eyes. He could see through them, even now.

She wanted to fall apart. She wanted to come loose at the seams and let all her insides hang out. She wanted help figuring out how to put this all back together. But she wasn't anyone else's responsibility. nobody else could be held accountable for all things she was... or more accurately, all the things she wasn't. "I guess you can't." The words were quiet as she began to move once more, opening her drawer and rifling through her t-shirts. This was ridiculous. If she wasn't going home then she was staying here. He moved forward, a hand gripping her upper arm. Madi turned to look up at him, then down at her arm in his hand. "Please let go." He released her, gently tugging the t-shirts from her hand and putting them back in the drawer.

"Madi, you're not going." He settled on the bed, looking at her as she lifted the t-shirts again, settling them in her bag. "If you loved me, you wouldn't go." The words made her lungs burn. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, that was unfair. That wasn't a card you played. It wasn't acceptable. She took a deep breath, being sure her back was to him as she spoke. She didn't want to see his face again after these words left her mouth.

"I don't love you." The words hung heavy in the air, he wasn't sure he had heard correctly. His heart thudded in his chest as his pulse raged against his temples. He flattered for a moment.

"What?" It was the only syllable he could find. Surely she hadn't said that.

"I don't love you. I was just using you for sex. Sorry." The sentence was so cold, so calculated. he could only imagine the look of torment on his face. How could she be so cruel? Had he been able to see her face, he would have realized that she couldnt be, that it was taking every ounce of her strength to bite back the recant. She wished she could erase them from the air, that she had never said them. The silence grew and she wondered if he could hear the pounding in her chest.

"You're still not leaving." The words were choked, she had made him cry. She had made him cry. it wasn't what she wanted, him hurting wasn't what she wanted.

"What does it matter to you? I fucking hate you." The words bit harder than the first set, he rose slowly, moving towards her to place a hand on her back.

"I'm sorry for whatever I did. I love you. If you decide to stay, I'd really like to be friends." He swallowed hard, walking out of her room and shutting the door behind him. Eyes moved over her half packed suitcase. She didn't have any place to go. She couldn't go home. She couldn't go anywhere else. She needed to think. Fingers folded into her palms as she used the heel of her hands to bang against her forehead. Think you fucking idiot, think. And then she was crying again, squeezing her eyes shut tight as knuckles went white, the heels of her hands pressed to her forehead.

He heard the sob through her bedroom door. He hadn't been able to make himself leave. If he walked out the front door it was over. She was gone. All her smiles, and laughter, and silliness would be gone. He could do without this darker part of her personality though. He listened for a moment as her weeping tugged at his lungs. It was killing him. he debated for a moment before slowly opening her door, peeking inside. She was curled up in a ball on the floor, fingers curled against her palms, the heel of her hands and wrists pressed to her eyes as her sobs shook her. She was mumbling the word sorry over and over again.

He thought his heart would tear right through his chest. He couldn't walk away, not right now. He made his way to her, kneeling and pulling her close. She fought him him, hands flying, pummeling his chest, pushing at his face as she scooted all the way back so she was pressed against her dresser. "I told you to leave. Go away. I HATE YOU!" He felt the tears begin to spill down his cheeks. He grabbed for her again, taking her wrists first and holding them down before using his free arm to pull her into him. She fought still, before finally giving in, sobbing into his shoulder. She clung to him as she shook and sobbed, he couldn't help but hang his head and cry as well. He wanted to be strong, so badly, it only made him cry harder. Arms pressed her tight against him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Dimitri. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shhhh..." his hands moved over her back slowly. Lips pressed against her head softly. "It's okay." He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt as she wrapped a fist around the fabric. He could only rock her and murmur anything that sounded somewhat soothing.