Painful Pleasures

CHAPTER1. Iwill not cry... Iwill not cry... Iwill not-- I bite my lip as the tears I have beenfighting for the past ten minutes finally spill out, rolling steady and fastdown my face. As the stupid events replays in my head, Itry to take a deep breath but it comes out as a shudder... 'April, you should have seen thiscoming...' I squeeze my eyes as tight as I can, butwhen 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 myheart shattering into a million pieces. As I lean my head on the window, I watchdark clouds envelop every ray of sunshine and I feel the weather is beingcontrolled by my emotions. The streets are empty with few people scurrying toget 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 uppretty fast." My taxi driver says as he glances at me through the rear viewmirror. As I stare at his watchful eyes, I wish Ihad his thoughts now, I wish that my biggest concern was a stormy weather. He looks at me again and I hate what I seein his eyes....Pity. "You alright?" He asks and I lookback outside the window to signal him I wasn't in the mood to talk. He doesn't say another word and the drivegoes on for another 20 minutes, all the while tears were streaming down myface. The taxi finally made a turn at the Italianrestaurant and headed down towards the university signboard WINDERSTON COLLEGE. "Is this alright?" The driverasks as the car moved to a halt directly in front of the school's premiseswhere the front hedges are well carved and trimmed to spell out the school'sname. "It'll never be alright." I mutterand immediately, the heavy downpour begins...loud and unmerciful. "Miss?" questions the driver. "My dorm is still ahead, just a fewblocks 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 theperky, excited voice this morning. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block outthe events that happened earlier but they still taunt me, 'Hey, Mrs Davidson, is Jay around?' 'Yes honey, but he just left to meet you atyour house.' "This is the place?" The driver's voice pokes into my thoughtsand shatter the rest of the terrible memory. Grabbing my overnight bag that Ihad earlier tossed to the far end of the taxi, I drop a 100 in the drivers handand ignore the shocked expression on his face. I had nothing to do with it now... "Remember miss, after the storm comesthe calm." He shouts to be heard over the rain as I walk already drenchedto my dorm. Loud thunder crashes immediately as if todisagree 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 myheart. "I cannot find my roommate so I needanother key to my room." A girl at the desk sign out says as she takes offher raincoat and drapes it over her arm. The tips of her chin length black hair aresoaked when she turns over to me. "You okay?" She says with so muchconcern that I want to burst into more tears but at the same time, I want toyell out of fury. No, I'm not okay! I am not alright! I havebeen living a lie and no one cared to care. And now I'm getting pity? "Fine, just fine." I brush pastthe open raincoat she was offering to cover me with and by the time I get tothe top of the stairs, my lungs have flattened to pathetic air deprived lungsand I'm on the floor in a moment. Coupled with my heart wrenching sobs, itdoesn't take long before I'm panting desperately for air. As my breath comes in fast, loud rasps, Igrab my overnight bag. In a desperate attempt to find the inhaler, I spill thecontents on the floor. Where is it? Please...where is it? "Oh my God!" The voice Irecognize as belonging to the dark haired girl shrieks in panic and she is bymy side in a second. "Oh, God. Okay...umm...inhaler?"She asks shakily and I nod frantically...all the while forcing little air intomy lungs. "Okay, okay." Her hands movefrantically 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 shakesit before putting it in my mouth and squeezing. Pffffffftttt!!!!!!!! goes the object as thesalty, minty air seeps into my throat and relief washes over me as my lungsopen up. I squeeze it again and watch as the black haired girl packs my clothesinto my bag. "Better?" She asks after she isdone and she looks a lot more relieved than I do. "Thanks." I mutter and turn toopen 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 mylife drops and every minute that just happened; the attack, the black hairedgirl, 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 newroommate, surprising huh?" The black haired girl is saying to me but whenI look at her, all I see is... "Ginger." I mutter, staring atthe auburn hair and blue eyes. "What? No, it's Gretchen. Can you hearme?" 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 cancompare... And the words of the song sink into mybarely conscious, I am back in bed at home and dad is sitting near the nightsstand singing the LOVE song before bed. He always sang with his gruff voice, barelytrying at all to make his voice sound like the main singer buy it's good enoughfor me to fall asleep. Love is all that I can give to you.. The song carries on however but with a veryslight, barely audible feminine voice along with a background instrument. Thevoice is fading slowly and as I lean towards the sound, to grasp this littlewhisper of safe memories, a splitting headache slams in. "Oh." I groan and blink open tosee the black haired girl on her bed on the other side of the room. She issitting cross legged Indian style and singing the song while playing theukulele. "Two in love can make it, take myheart oh please don't break it. Love was meant for me and you." There are posters of old musicians likeMichael Bolton on her wall and her bed is made in lilac coloured sheets. "You're up!" She exclaims anddrops her ukulele as she walks over a new, plush lavender rug over to my bed. "Oh good. I was worried I'll have totake you to the hospital, considering the rain hasn't stopped." She saysand 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 Icouldn't go out to buy anything with this rain. Dinner? What time was it? "But I ordered chinese for you...soupactually because of your cold and attack earlier." "Listen, umm...." what was hername? "Gretchen. Gretchen Hills." Shesays. "Gretchen. Thanks, but I'm not hungry.I just need a shower that's all." I say stubbornly as I try to ignore herhurt expression while trying to get up. The headache slams in all again but onlyharder and rips through my head like a beating thunder. "Ow!" I groan. "Maybe you should lie down for alittle bit." Gretchen says as she gently grasps my shoulders and tries tolean me back in bed. "I said I'm fine!" Yelling, Ishrugged off her hands and glared at her. What was with the pity? It's sickening thatpeople suddenly care when they see you covered in snot and tears. "I don't need your help okay?" Isay and get up abruptly to prove to her that I was strong enough even though itsuddenly felt like I was going to fall and the room had blackened out for asecond. 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 helpedme during an attack, you're suddenly my mother?" I say with a sarcasticlaugh and by the time I reach the wardrobe and turned around, Gretchen was backon her bed, cross legged and toying with her ukulele. Ignoring the slight pang of guilt, I grabmy shower bag and change into a towel before leaving. The shower didn't help. I thought it would, I honestly did but thefeel of warm water pelting down on me only made me cry more. As I sat there with my knees gathered upand pressed to my chest and my face buried within, I let the tears come. Sobbing and regretting and sniffing andaching. I wanted to get it over with, to feel andaccept every bit of this aching truth...this slap of reality that I had been sonaive and ignorant to accept. By the time the tears stopped, my body wasnumb from the hot water, my face puffy and probably red as a cherry and Icouldn't feel my legs. The room smelt of pepperoni and chickenwhen I walked in and there was a huge chinese take out pack on my bed. "I hope you like chicken soup, its theonly one they had but I'm positive it's got enough noodles in it." Shesaid. Chicken soup. That's right...she ordered dinner for me. She was studying me with concern as thoughshe was scared I would snap at her again. "Thanks." I said and changed tomy night wear. Gretchen was occasionally staring at me as I ate and I couldn'tdeny the fact that soup was the best idea. It warmed my insides even though Icould barely taste it. "I'm sorry I snapped at youearlier." I said as I tossed the empty take out pack into the bin near thedoor. "It's okay, people react in all sortsof ways when they're angry." She said as she shut her laptop and got readyto sleep. "I'm not angry, Gretchen." I saidas I switched off my bedside lamp and muttered, "I'm broken."