literature

Need More Time

Deviation Actions

v-gal015's avatar
By
Published:
575 Views

Literature Text

"Roxy! Let's go!" I snap from the front door, stomping my foot.

The dog keeps coming to my side, but circling back around to go back to the bed she's grown accustomed to. She's done this at least five times. She comes again, tail between her legs, still reluctant to go.

I feel guilty for snapping at her, I bend down, "Sorry, girl, we can't stay anymore. The jig is up and we've got to go."

I have my things on my person. My pack with my sketchbook, the pencils, my charm bracelet and the satchel Patty gave me. I was forced to take some other things I didn't have before I came because I'm missing a couple items. Clothes. I took three of those shirts Oliver gave me, one of them covered in paint which I'm wearing right now, and two pairs of pants. I couldn't bare to steal anything else. Well, besides a pack of pastels from the art chest, but that is all. I can't take a single dress because why ruin such pretty things?

I open the front door and Roxy goes running out and I follow slowly and close the door. I step off the stoop and turn to look at the house one last time. I want to cry right now, but I'm pretty sure I cried myself dry on the way here. My throat still constricts and I struggle to breathe for a minute. I can't believe this is the last time I'll come here. I can't just walk in whenever I want. I can't sleep our -his- nice warm bed. I can't wake up in his warm arms. I can't see him smile anymore, or smirk, or make his messy hair even messier, or hear him laugh, call me stubborn, call my name, or...

A clap of thunder makes me jump a mile high. Of all nights, of course it would storm tonight. I suppose it's fitting. I get one more good look at the house, taking everything in, before running down the path, but I stop, turn back and do something rash. I run back up to the door, take out that brick, grab the hidden key and run back down the path. But I stop at the end of the path again, but don't turn around. I look left and right, not trying to decide which way to go, but hoping.

Hoping he'd come out of no where and stop me from leaving.

A sharp pain makes me grab my chest. I'm struggling to breathe, not quite hyperventilating, but still have to attempt to make slow and easy breaths. I really do want to cry, but I can't. I can't make the tears come. Maybe if I did cry or sob, this pain wouldn't go away, but my eyes are as dry as my throat seems to be at the moment.

He didn't come come after me. He just stood there, stunned. I spent more than enough time here to catch up to me. Walking or taking a car. He didn't come.

But I can't stall anymore.

"Well, what did you expect?" I grumble to myself. "You drop something like that on him, did you really expect Oliver to pull you into his arms and kiss you again? You can't tell someone you love them, run off and expect them to chase you like they've been madly in love you the whole time too."

Another boom of thunder prompts me to walk down the sidewalk. But the whole time, I'm replaying what happened today.

I lost that stupid engagement ring- and I somehow have to pay him back without seeing him. Oh, that's going to be easy. And where on God's earth did it disappear to?! I know I left it on the nightstand like I always do, but what happened? It's still bothering me that I couldn't find it at all. I literally turned the room around and still nothing.

We cleaned up our room. I got dressed into that gorgeous thing I probably ruined on the dash here. He asked if I was mad at him- Darnit! I never found out about that. I'm overtaken with guilt again for acting like I was mad and he believed it, but why wouldn't he want me mad at him tonight? He even called me beautiful too and I snapped at him. Okay, I don't deserve him to come after me. He was being so nice and I was a jerk.

I get this empty feeling inside, and I hug myself, trying to close the gaping hole. It hurts too much.

I continue with the day. We left for the party. Everything was normal. We spoke like we always do. I taught him to Charleston. He taught me to waltz. We were about to go outside to have our little chat when we're told to go to our seats. His parents announced the surprise. He gave an amazing speech. He kissed me.

I stop walking.

Why would he do that to me? We both knew to never cross that line. Just because our friend asked for a real kiss, did not give him the right to take this choice upon himself. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it, but now I wish he enjoyed it as much as I did. I want him to feel the way I felt during that. Feel like it was a dream come true like I did. Just thinking about the kiss, I can still imagine the way I felt. It was perfect. Beyond perfect, but not. Because it wasn't real. I want it to be, but it wasn't. And then I wonder what he was thinking immediately afterwards. I still remember his expression. Not sad, not apologetic, not happy, but something like those. It's bothering me. Why would he do that? Did he know he was crossing our imaginary line?

Sighing with frustration, I keep walking. After that kiss, I give a speech trying to say good bye. I told him the truth and ran off. I came to his house, threw off the dress, changed into cheap clothes, packed a couple things and here I am. Going home. To my new real home.

But not my permanent home.

When I get to the Russells', I have to convince them to move. Oliver knows where we live so he could come by trying to say something about tonight when the shock of it all wears off, but who knows how soon that might be. Tomorrow I'm going to find a new apartment. We can afford one, at least for a while since we have money saved up and that's not including the pearl we still haven't had appraised. Jane and I both think we should save it until we need it.

It starts to drizzle as I close in on the block of the Russells' apartment building. I take a deep breath, calming my nerves. But then I panic. What am I going to tell them? Molly is going to be in tears, Jane isn't going to be happy, and I'm sure the boys won't even be on my side. They've all grown attached to Oliver. And not for his money. I should have never let him near them. But this is far beyond what I ever predicted. I never thought that the boy who was so rude to me the first time we met could make us all fall in love with him- me, literally. I want to hate him for it, but I can't.

I turn the corner and I see the building and stop. I look up at the window to the apartment and take another deep breath. And another. And another. I begin to talk to myself, "Get a hold of yourself, Annabelle. You've been through much worse things. Emotionally and physically. Being jumped, your mother dying in your arms, starving, facing another death, being in a house with mobsters and much more. Surely I can handle a little heartbreak. Its nothing compared to-" But my words are garbled in my mouth at the sight above me.

Oliver. Of course. Of course he's here.

He's in their apartment. He's at the window, looking out into the dark and rainy night. He looks down, and I'm frozen in my spot, but he's squinting. There's no street light to illuminate me, so he doesn't see me. That's... good.

He can't see me. I can't face him. Not now. Not ever.

Out of nowhere, he's jerked from the view of the window. Then Jane takes his place by the window, but she's facing the direction he was jerked too, seemingly snapping at him by the look of it. She then looks out the window as well, looking down, but again, I am unseen because there's no light down here. Her annoyed expression melts into something of anxiousness, and I suddenly feel guilty.

But I can't not go in. I can't just abandon the family up there. I could never do that. It's just wrong. But I can't go up there with him. I will die of embarrassment by merely stepping into the same room with him. And I'm not exaggerating.

But the drizzle is turning into a steady rain and I hear thunder booming. I'm still freezing, half hoping he'd see my and come running, but he doesn't. I have to wait until he leaves. He'll leave to either look for me himself or to go home, getting that I'm not coming back. Since I'm nearly drenched already, Roxy and I take cover under the stoop of another building, in the opposite direction he'd take to go home. I curl into a ball and place my chin on my knees, looking out at the entrance to the first building, waiting for him to leave.

As the thunder gets louder and I see lightning bolts show in the sky, I wish that he were here to comfort me like he has been so many times the past few weeks. I want to be in our bed -his bed- in his arms, curled into his chest, feeling protected and safe. My ears ring for him to croon reassurances. But I shake my head, expelling the thought.

"No, no, no!" I tell myself. Stupid! I gave that up when I told him the truth.

Somehow, some way, miraculously, I manage to fall asleep. I don't know how long I was out, but I wake with a start. My head had begun to slide off my knee and my head jerked and I snap up. The storm has settled already, but it's still dark outside. By my estimate, but I'm just guessing, it has to be past midnight. Past one most likely. I climb off the stoop and peer up at the window again. The lights are off and the entire area is eerily still. I'm almost scared to move because I could wake someone up.

But as silently as anyone can be, I go inside and race up the stairs. At the door, I press my ear in and all I can hear is deep breathing. They're all fast asleep. I nod once. Perfect. No explainations required yet. Those can wait a few hours because I've got nothing. Nothing good. Nothing that makes sense and won't make them hate me for a while.

I quietly turn the knob, ease open the door, avoiding a creak, and step inside, easing it shut behind me. For a moment, I nearly squeal when I see Roxy run in. Oh no, she's going to wake everyone up! But she goes to find a spot in a corner, trots in a circle and lays down to drift off. I take a single step forward and I see a figure coming at me.

"Hello?" she asks, yawning. Jane.

"Jane, its me. Annabelle. Sorry for coming in so late, but I had to wait until-"

"Annabelle?" She stumbles a little and embraces me. Jane whispers under her breath, "Annabelle! Oh dear God, Annabelle! We were worried to death, again, about you, honey. You really have a knack for scaring people like that. You need to stop." She hugs me tighter. "But where have you been? What happened? Oliver never told me, but I know it's bad. Isn't it? It has to be."

I extricate myself from her, "I'm so so so sorry, I was waiting outside because I saw him up here and I didn't want to bump into him after what happened. I'll tell you later as soon as I get some shut eye. Is that okay? Where do I sleep? That rocking chair you bought?" I take timid step around her, but she grabs my wrist. "Am-am I not allowed to sleep in the rocking chair? Or not here at all?" I guess it seems fair with everything I've put them through.

"No, you're more than welcome to stay here. We want you here. You're family now. We don't expect anything else, but..." Jane trails off, turning her head away. It's too dark to read her expression.

"But what? Are you sleeping there? Jane, you really should be sleeping on the bed or couch."

"I'm not sleeping there."

"Then who? Because the children shouldn't be sleeping on that hard thing either. If its one of the boys, I'm sure both of us could-" I cut myself off. I blindly walk back to the door and brush my hand against the wall, searching for the switch. I find it and flick on the dim lights.

There he is. Sleeping on the rocking chair, peacefully. But he doesn't look right. Something's off. I can't quite place it, but something is wrong.... Oh. Oliver doesn't have that slight smile spread across his lips. He's... actually frowning.

Did I do that?

"Why is he here?!" I whisper and snap at Jane.

"He was just as worried about you as we were. He came straight here and waited for you to come because you always eventually come here. But he sort of fell asleep." I glare at her. "I didn't want to throw him out in the rain! Plus he really wants to talk to you! And personally, I want to hear what he has to say because no one's letting me in on this!"

"Jane..." What should I do? Stay and talk it out so he can tell me he doesn't share those feelings so humiliated myself for no reason, or go and abandon the family? My hand clenches the knob. "I can't face him, Jane. I can't."

She gasps. "You did it! You told him didn't you?' I don't answer, which is answer enough. "Annabelle, this is a good thing. Talk to him! He has to be crazy to not be crazy over you!"

"I've told you we're just friends," I hiss.

"Well, you blew that when you told him." Can she read my thoughts? "Just talk to him. Please. You never know what could happen." She walks over to me and pulls me away from the door. Jane places me right in front of him, and whispers in my ear, "He's here for you. He's worried about you. That must mean something. He obviously cares for you. "

I stare down at his sleeping form, considering Jane's words. Oliver did run out on a party for me. A friend might do that too though. A really good friend. But a friend who just found out their friend is in love with them? Perhaps not. So, could he possibly be here to share that he feels that same as I? But that's nonsense. Oliver couldn't. Oliver doesn't. I know he doesn't. He wouldn't love someone like me. He doesn't love someone like me. Not the way I love him. Now he probably thinks I'm some stupid girl for falling for him this way. We both said we were friends. Constantly. Not in the public eye, but when we needed each other's comfort- and it always seemed like I was always seeking his comfort- we'd say that we did it because we were such great friends. But if I lied, then Oliver could have lied as well.

"Annabelle," hisses Jane. "Just do it already."

"Okay," I sigh. I reach out to him, planning to wake him up. But I stop myself. "What do I do if he doesn't feel the same way?"

"He has to! There's no way he doesn't. I've noticed the way he looks at you. It's an endearing sight. Anyone can tell he cares for you deeply."

"But whose to say he cares for me like a friend or like I care for him?"

Jane throws her hands in the air. "There's only one way to find out!" She jabs a finger in his direction. "Do it, or I will!"

I shake my head quickly. "No thank you. I'll do it."

"Good. I just want this to end."

"You're not the only one," I mutter. Turing back to Oliver, I take another round of deep breaths. My hands are shaking, I feel my heart is pounding so loud I'm surprised he hasn't woken up yet, and I'm at a lost for words now. What do I start with? Hey, Hastings. How are you doing? "One last thing Jane." I'm still staring at Oliver, "How did you know Arthur was in love with you?"

She pouts, then sits in her hip, looking up into space. "Well..." she begins, folding her arms. "I'm not going to lie. I was as blind as you. I mean, we were never in the position you two are in. But I felt that my feelings were stronger than his in the beginning. We were always a couple, never really friends, but we were friends at the same time. I know that doesn't make sense. But I didn't know until my father had a talk with me. He noticed how serious things were getting and my mother afterwards made another comment about falling for someone like your father. Then I started noticing similarities left and right. The good kind."

"And are you positive you marry someone like your father?"

She tapped her foot a moment, then says, "Yes. Positive. Can't think of a single person who didn't in some way."

I take a step back. My father?! This boy in front of me could turn out like my father?! That isn't possible! He's nearly the exact opposite of him! My father was cold, harsh and unloving. Oliver is sweet, caring, and amazing! Nothing like my father. But then how did my mother end up with such a horrible man? She wouldn't have fallen for such a unfeeling person. She was too passionate a person to do that. So the only logical explanation is that he changed. As he aged, he became less loving, less caring and more of what he was when he passed.

I'm destined to marry someone like that?

"Annabelle? Are you okay?"

No, I want to scream. The boy I'm in love with could be my father at our age. "Jane, I have to go." I run and snatch up my bag and satchel by the door and turn out the lights. "I'm sorry, but I can't. It was stupid of me to tell him. We could've stayed friends if I hadn't blurted it out, but I messed everything up with my big mouth." I open the door. "I'll be back. I'm not leaving town, I promise, I just need to be alone for a little while. Until I can sort this out in my mind. Please don't tell him I was here. If I find out he knows, I will be forced to leave. I don't want to talk to him. Not yet at least."

"Wait, why are you leaving?"

I back farther away from Oliver, looking disgustingly as him. "I'll explain later. I just need to get out of here before-"

Oliver begins to stir in the rocking chair, making the old wood creak. Without another word, I run out of the apartment. I don't call for Roxy, I don't say good bye to anyone. I just run down the stairs and down the street as fast as I can without looking back.

************************************************

One day passes. Then two. Then three.

For the past few days, I have been hiding out. The night I left, I ran until I couldn't breath. I found myself at the cemetery and I walk over to my parents' graves, and just drop to my knees and ball for an hour or so.

But after I cry my eyes out for the second time, I scream angry curses at them. "Why didn't you just let me die?!" I shout at my mother's headstone. "I wouldn't be in this Hell if I just starved to death! I wouldn't feeling like I'm dying over a stupid boy! You were suppose to help me! You said you'd be my guardian angel and I have yet to see you help me! I hate you, Momma! I hate you!

I turn to my father's headstone, "And you! Why were you such a jackass as a husband and father?! I hate you even more! You left me here all alone because you had no money! You are a pathetic piece of scum! How could you go from being so kind to being so horrible?! What made you change? Was it the money! Because great! Oliver has money! Was it my mother's love? Because that would mean it would be my fault that OIiver turned out like you! Or was it me? Did I make things turn sour between you and mother? Because I guess I can never have children! Thank you so much for that father! I owe you so much and for teaching me so much about relationships!"

I grabbed a clumpful of dirt and threw it against the stone. With that out of my system, I leave the cemetery and seek shelter for the night. Since I had no where else to go, I walked a distance and found a bench in Central Park and laid down. Tears trickled down my cheek as I forced myself to sleep.

I spend the next day laying around in the grass not too far from that bench. I ignore the hunger pangs and just lay in the soft grass, trying to think, but every time I think about Oliver, something I love about him pops into my head and I feel my throat constrict and tears build up. This happens all day, so when it's finally dark, I drag myself over to the bench and go to sleep again.

"Get up, Missy," snaps a man. I snap up, heading going back and forth, but my eyes finally fall upon the face of a disgruntled looking police officer. "You're not allowed to sleep here, young lady. Get up and get going before I have to take you in."

I nod stiffly, "Yes, sir." Hoisting my things over my shoulder, I walk away swiftly, not wanting to cause any trouble with the police. I sigh and make a decision. I should go back now. I'm through with crying and should explain to Jane this whole mess, unless he's already told her and she's waiting to kill me when I get back. I straighten my posture, "Let her! And I want Oliver to show up!

"You have got to be kidding me," I grumble under my breath. I'm in front of the apartment building again, staring up at their window. And who shows up at the window? I quickly duck in the alley before Oliver has a chance to look down and my air of confidence fades away completely. "Damn you, Hastings," I mumble. When I'm sure he's moved from the window, I break into a run down the sidewalk.

Four more days pass, so I've been alone for a week now. I caved and ate after running from the apartment that last time and ate several more times in the past few days, either by waiting in a food line or buying minimum amounts of nourishment. Each bite failed to satisfy me like the food I ate in the Hastings' house, but I had to train my body for hardship again. This is how it use to be, and this is how its going to be again from now on.

A bit of luck did come my way. The last couple of days, I did not waste my time sulking and moaping, but wanted to be more productive. I went in search of a new home. I acutally found a decent place in a better neighborhood for about the same price as the current apartment. I also found some decent furniture. The giant spool from a construction site could be made into a table, and box of dishes and utensils were tossed outside a nice restaurant, along with some chairs. Why waste this stuff?

After a week of solitude, I return to the apartment on the seventh night and knocked on the door. Jane answers and instantly embraces me, soon followed by three tackles from the children. "Stop scaring us like that!"

"I'm sorry, I just needed time to think."

"And now you're thinking...?"

"Now, I think we should pack up our stuff and move into our new apartment."

Jane gives me a stern look, "That's not what I'm talking about. Are you ever going to speak to him?"

I wave her off, "Yes, I just need more time. I still haven't decided what to do yet, but I promise I will."

The Russells and I begin to load things into the jalopy parked out back. "Don't you think he'll become even more worried when he comes back to see we're missing." I go into my pack, take out my sketchbook and a pencil and write a note.

Oliver,
Don't worry. Jane, the kids and I have moved out of the apartment into a nicer neighborhood. We're still in town. Here's the address.
I scrawl the street and number. Come by anytime. Better sooner than later. We really need to talk.
Annabelle


I hold up the note to show Jane who nods approvingly. "Okay. I can deal with that." We finish packing everything into the car and Jane cranks the engine to life and we all climb in.

"Wait, I have to put up the note." I run back up and stick the paper on the door with a tiny piece of tape. But before I leave, I take out my pencil again and scratch out the address and everything about coming by and needing to talk. and replace it with I'm sorry. But I still need time. We really are still in town, but don't waste your time searching for us. The only way you'll find us is when I come find you. And that might be quite some time.
Sorry I took so long to finish this one. I've been super busy this week. I meant to post this last night but my laptop was being stupid and froze for the longest time.
I know you guys have probably been wondering what's next for Annie and Ollie, so here ya go. Enjoy(:
(OMG! Only 6 left now! I honestly don't think I'll finish them by graduation because of this week, but I'll still try.)

Annabelle and the gang (c) me

Previous: Everytime We Touch
Next: 6 Months
© 2011 - 2024 v-gal015
Comments45
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
littlemissmaturity's avatar
i hate annabelle right now! (this is what I felt when katniss kept accusing Peeta about things)