Fingertips

Chapter one

Okay, I redid some of this chapter. Added a lot that might clear some things up and a cute/sad little passage in the middle. I also explained what Faye looks like in this chapter and what Aiden and Jude look like in the next chapters. Please check it out and REVIEW. I have only 3 reviews so far and I’m nervous. If you like what I’m writing tell me:D. Enjoy!

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It had all happened so quickly, leaving me behind in the dust, unable to catch up with it. I began to feel a burning sensation on my foot, becoming worse and worse with each passing second. I couldn’t imagine what was causing my foot this burning but then I realized it wasn’t fire, it was pain. Pain I had never imagined possible, I had never experienced anything close to it. I began to feel it in my neck and my arms, being stung again and again with the pain, each pang worse than the last. I felt as if I could no longer bear it, then I heard the thundering of police sirens behind me. I realized then that my eyes were still closed; the blackness that had absorbed me was only voluntary.

I felt a very odd sensation before I opened my eyes. It wasn’t painful, but it was certainly odd. I couldn’t think of just what it was. It was difficult moving my body, which was still in excruciating pain, and my eyelids were no exception. Even the slightest crack open felt as if it drained my body of every ounce of energy left in me. There wasn’t even that much to start out with. When I finally did open my eyes enough to be able to see, I soon found out what the odd sensation was.

Numbness.

It had engulfed my entire arm and both of my legs, from the ankle, up. Both of my legs had been twisted underneath my body, leaving them unnoticed by my nerves, only to be seen by my eyes. I rotated my eyes just enough to glance at my arm. The seatbelt was not fastened and it was now wrapped around my tangled arm. I was still unsure of what was really happening. That is, until I realized there wasn’t a steering wheel in front of me. At first it didn’t register as I lay there in my seat, until of course I moved my head towards the driving side of the car. The wind caught in my throat, causing a lump to become even more apparent. There he was, my boy, lying with his fragile head against the steering wheel. I didn’t flinch though; I just lay there, blinking like an idiot. I couldn’t help but study his soft features, which were now horribly bruised. He was so perfect in every sense of the word. But now, his perfection was slowly slipping away from the one person who loved it the most.

Me.

I continued to study him, finally resting my eyes on a spot just above his eyebrow. Everything seemed to seep into slow motion when I noticed a gash in that very spot. The red and white lights flashing in and out of the car seemed to be taking minutes just to take one rotation. When in reality, it took merely a few seconds. The gash had been bleeding for awhile before I had woken up, I could tell. It had already started to dry. It stopped right in the middle of his cheek. All I wanted was to reach out and just take him in my arms, but I could not. I was unable to move over to him, let alone embrace him. So I just remained there, my arm twisted and my legs buried underneath me, unable to reach my perfect boy.

It was at that moment that the realization of what was happening hit me like a baseball bat. What if he might be too hurt to be repaired? Why wasn’t help coming faster? He needed them to help him, before it was too late. I began to panic, wondering if the lights and sirens were for someone else. Maybe no one even knew that we were out here. My questions were answered when I looked up and realized the lights were getting brighter. I sighed a breath of relief, now we would be safe. I tried to speak, wanting to assure him that we were going to be just fine. But nothing came out, just a wheezing patch of air. I tried to yell, scream, anything to get his attention, but nothing came out. Not one sound. We were going to be saved, and I couldn’t even tell him.

I felt a slight breeze behind me, it smelled almost like cologne. A beam of light flashed onto my boy, his fresh imperfections obvious now in the light. I let out a small squeak; this was all I could do, no more than a murmur. A bolt of pain shot through my arm, causing me to instantly jump as much as my body allowed. Someone was unwrapping the seatbelt from my twisted arm, completely oblivious to my jumping, signaling them to stop. Fingers started to slowly slip under my knees, pulling out my legs from under my body. Another wave of silent screams shot through me. I could take the pain, it’s not like I could stop them anyway. What I couldn’t take though, was leaving him. That alone would kill me. My legs were finally freed from under me, making the pain momentarily dissipate.

Then it happened, my worst fear coming true, I was taken. Away from my seat, my security, and from my love. He began to slowly disappear from my sight, his fragile figure motionless, still strapped into his seat. I tried to grab onto him, I just wanted to stay. I couldn’t fight against the arms that held me, the smell of cologne stronger than ever. All I could do was lay limp in those arms, feeling completely hopeless. I slowly closed my eyes, forcing back the tears I knew would soon follow. I wasn’t successful though, tears seeped out the sides of my eyes, catching the fancy of the man attached to the arms holding me up.

“Don’t worry miss, you and your friend are going to be just fine.” I shivered from the thought of him not being okay. He had to be, he just had to be.

I still couldn’t move and I refused to open my eyes under any circumstances. The sounds of doors slamming in the distance caused me to cringe. I knew they were getting him out, trying to fix the poor, battered boy. That was something I definitely did not want to see. With them having to drag is limp body out of the car, I don’t know what I what do if I had to see that. Before I knew it, I was placed on top of a stretcher, left alone to face my fate. I felt tension beneath me, and soon I realized I was being lifted up. No, I thought, not yet. I couldn’t leave without him, without knowing if he was okay or not. There was nothing I could do though, I was strapped down and going whether I liked it or not. I opened my eyes just in time to be faced with a blinding light above me, forcing me to close them just as quickly. I was placed down into the ambulance, bouncing against the floor a little too violently. Move, move, don’t leave him alone like this! I struggled against the ropes, fighting through the pain, trying to get to my boy. Cradle him, hold him, do anything I could to make him feel better. Before I could do anything more there was the light again and a mask over my face. I slowly began to drift.

No,
No,

“No!” I sprang up in my bed, gasping for air. My face was drenched with tears, my forehead trickled with sweat. I glanced over at my clock, its bright lights shining 5:45 in big red numbers. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding in my ears. I became instantly alarmed wondering where I was until the realization crashed over me. It was all a dream. A memory. I lifted up my hands to my face, rubbing over my eyes and trying to steady my breathing.

“God, every night it’s the same dream.” I didn’t think I would be able to take it much longer. It always ends the same way, his face more vivid each time. I knew I wasn’t going to get anymore sleep, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t bear another dream. I finished wiping the sweat from my forehead and slowly slipped the covers off of me. I had slowed my breathing down enough to not be shaking anymore. Although, I don’t think it was my breathing that made me shake in the first place. I draped my legs over the side of the bed, it was still dark out so I had to be careful where I was going. I shifted all of my weight onto my legs, putting on my clothes for the day and then making my way over to the bathroom.

I rubbed my eyes as I flipped on the switch to turn on the light. I tried to help my eyes adjust, blinking and rubbing continuously until I was settled. I was staring at my bare feet, not wanting to face my reflection. All of the shame that drags me down every day was waiting, just waiting for that one look. I will have to face a mirror at one point in the day, but I didn’t want to. I knew the only solution to my problem was to face it head on, no matter how much I disliked it. And I really didn’t like it. I slowly lifted up my head, keeping my eyes closed the entire time. My head finally reached its limit, I could go no further, and now it was time. I slowly opened my eyes, facing my reflection head on. My mind began to speak a mile a minute, filling me with guilt I never thought possible.

‘It’s your fault, it’s all your fault and you know it, don’t you?’

I covered my ears, trying to drown out the impossible.

“Shut. Up.” I was not going to stand for this, it was silly. I knew exactly what happened, whose fault it was. I knew all too well.

I turned on the faucet, making sure it was cold. Very cold. A shock, a wakeup call, a reminder that I’m still alive. I laid my palms against the cold marble of the sink, shifting my weight onto my hands. I inhaled slowly and deeply through my nose, breathe, just breathe. I let out the air through my mouth, growing frustrated almost instantly. I picked up my hands from the sink, clenching them into fists. I rested them at my sides until I couldn’t take it any longer. I lifted up my fists above my head, slamming them in front of me, straight into the mirror, into my reflection.

“Ah!” I yelped in pain. I created a gash straight down the middle of my hand, a shard of glass stuck under my skin. I began to panic, how will I ever explain this to my parents? My hand began to throb as blood poured down over my wrist and off of the sides of my palm. I grabbed wad after wad of toilet paper, pressing down onto my fresh wound. I yelped again, realizing I still had the shard buried in my palm. I wrapped a long strip of toilet paper around my gash and started to look for something to get rid of the glass. I couldn’t even tell how big the piece actually was but that didn’t matter, the pain was large enough. I rummaged through all of the cabinets, letting things fall into the sink after I went through them. The blood was seeping through the tissue very quickly and I didn’t care what happened to anything in my way. I finally found a pair of old tweezers, they weren’t the best though. Hence, the “old” tweezers. I didn’t care; they were the only thing handy at the time. I unwrapped the toilet paper from my palm, some blood had already dried up on the sides of my hand. I held my breath and quickly pulled away some excess skin from around the cut. I bit my lip, not wanting to scream again and dug into the cut, hitting something solid with the tweezers. I actually sighed a breath of relief, glad to have just found the glass. It was a thick piece so I could maneuver it easily out of my palm. It slid out easily and quickly. When I was finally free of my burden I leaned against the wall, looking at the mess in front of me. Glass from the shattered mirror had filled the sink up almost all the way to the top, some pieces even floating in the water I had left running. I quickly turned off the water with my good hand before the water rose any higher. I finally let out the air I hadn’t realized I was holding and slowly sank to the floor.

“Sweetheart, is everything all right in their?” I froze; I would have sworn my heart had stopped if my breathing wasn’t so heavy. I scrambled to my feet, running over to the door, locking it very quietly. It was my mother at the door, I couldn’t even imagine what she would say if she saw this scene.

“Sweetheart?” I swallowed hard, trying to prepare to speak without my voice faltering.

“Um, yeah, yes mom, I’m fine everything is perfectly alright.” My voice had cracked when I began, throwing me off just a bit. I saw the doorknob jiggle, signifying a presence on the other side of the door. A presence I did not want in the bathroom.

“Honey, why is the door locked, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m just getting ready mom, I’ll be right out.”

“Okay but don’t be too long, you have a big day today and you don’t want to be late!”

“Okay.” I couldn’t care less if I was late, in fact, I couldn’t care less if I even went or not. It wouldn’t ruin my week or even my day for that matter. I went through the cabinets again, looking for a large bandage to put on my hand. I found one in the back of the cabinet without a box to shield it, sounds very familiar. Almost like my life. I carefully unwrapped the bandage, placing the waste in the garbage. That’s when it occurred to me, the garbage! That’s how I can get rid of the glass. We will still be short a mirror but I can take care of that later. I carefully slipped on the bandage and grabbed the garbage can from beside me. I stopped short when I realized I was going to cut myself again if I used my hands to get the glass out. I looked all around the bathroom, finally resting my eyes on the shower doors. I smirked as I grabbed a towel from a handle on one of the doors and folded it into fours. Slowly and carefully I scraped the excess glass out of the sink and into the waste bin, without cutting myself once. I shook out the towel making sure it was completely free of glass before tossing it into the laundry basket by the door.

“There” I said, finally I was done. I left the bathroom and went in to my room, a room with a mirror.

As I looked into my mirror, twisting my hair in my fingers, I couldn’t help but feel my breath catch in my throat. I hate being nervous. I have no reason to be, I have no interest in conversing with anyone I might meet. Having the mind to get through this day, well, that certainly will help.

I went over a checklist in my head, going over everything I may or may not need.

Notebook, check

Pens, check

Backpack, check

Confidence, still working on that one.

I moved away, okay that was settled, but new friendships I had no interest in. I have already lost my best friend; my heart is too broken to be repaired.

I grabbed a hair scrunchie off of my dresser, fastening my hair into its usual loose bun. Looking in the mirror again, I saw the fear in my eyes, staring right through me. It isn’t fair being vulnerable, I didn’t want it. Life, however, is never fair. I made my way towards my door, taking one last look around my room. Cracking one knuckle on each hand before closing the door behind me.

I walked down my twelve steps, every one felt as if I had a fifty pound weight attached to my ankles. As I turned into the kitchen, I saw a familiar scene. My mother was cooking french toast, my favorite. I watched as she wiped the loose hairs off of her forehead. I was thankful for her space before in the bathroom. I was so taken aback by the normalcy going on in my own kitchen, while my life was a mess. I am every day, and I don’t think I will ever be used to it. I slowly walked over to the kitchen table, my father next to me. He was reading the newspaper, sitting in his rickety chair he insists on keeping. Every day we beg him to get rid of it, my mother repeating that one fall will be the death of him. Death, I cringe at the very word. It’s exterior painted with memories only I and few others hold dear. I can’t even begin to explain my attachment to it. I have already seen it this morning, I couldn’t bear to actually express in words what really happened. Pain and heartache that no one will ever know. Why do I continue to let this hold me hostage every day, when it happened a year ago? Honestly I have no idea why. But then again I do, on some level. I have to hold on or it will be like it never happened at all. As much as it pains me to think about it, I don’t want to forget him.

I rested my head on my folded hand, I managed to have the strength to look out my kitchen’s multi-colored window. I looked out at the endless row of white and beige houses. One house caught my eye. A great oak tree was casting a shadow on a beige house in front of ours. The shadow was barely moving, but it was most certainly alive. It just stayed there, planted to the house, following the movements of its host.

Just like me.

I was stuck in my own life, completely still, waiting for directions to instruct me otherwise. The only difference between that tree and me, was that I was not okay with that. I didn’t want to remain in this shell shock phase another day of my life. My best friend is lost, I can’t move on but I can still try to live.

I just feel awful…

The sudden popping sound of the toaster caught my attention. It was placed right on the table, due to lack of space, and now sending two pieces of toast out of its warm chamber. It was kept very tidy, in fact everything was, my mother loved to clean. It was going to an amusement park for her, she enjoyed it that much. The silver exterior was shiny and brilliant even in the dull light. I looked over to it carefully, realizing what I was about to see. My reflection was mangled but still clear enough to make out my features. My thin dark russet almost black hair was hanging loosely around my shoulders. I would usually scowl at this feature but wavy curls changed my mind. At the very tips lay very loose curls, making my otherwise boring hair, somewhat interesting. My body in thin and my skin is pale, nothing extraordinary. I’m not a giant and I’m not short at all, just average. I blend in easily with others, nothing on me to brag about. Well, almost nothing. My best feature has to be my eyes, I’m sure they are one thing for others to be envious about. Both of my parents have bright green eyes, but I inherited a different gene. My grandmother has the most curious deep blue eyes I have ever seen. They haven’t dimmed with age, no; they have remained just as they had been when she was twenty years old. I guess that’s why I admire my eye color so much. Her most beautiful feature made its way into my genes, connecting me forever with my most cherished relative. Although, I think I put the trait to shame. My grandmother or gram as I like to call her, her eyes shine with every emotion. The sparkle in her eyes never dulls, never fades. Even when angry or sad, the two deep pools that make up her two glorious eyes always seem to twinkle with some emotion. I, on the other hand, don’t have that good fortune. My eyes, even with the color, are dull. The deep midnight blue is put to waste when connected with me. They don’t sparkle or shine; they just remain silent, dead, on my face. I love my eyes, but I suppose even my best feature can’t be extraordinary.

I pushed a loose lock of hair behind my ear and, unwillingly, thought about the reason my eyes no longer held emotion. I slowly closed my eyes, concentrating on keeping my breathing even, slipping into the darkness. I was almost gone, so ready to let this be it, but an terribly familiar voice broke me away from those thoughts.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you today?” I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t remember how. He was there, right in front of me. His arms were held out wide, waiting for me to return to him. I hesitantly stepped forward towards his arms. A gentle smile played along his lips, welcoming me even more. I took another step and another, only to end up closing the gap in a few short strides. I grabbed onto him anxiously, fearing the worst. He wrapped his long arms around me gently, letting his cheek rest on the top of my hair. I sighed contently, letting myself relax into his soft form.

“Oh Faye,” he began, murmuring against my forehead. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

I lifted my head gently, giving him the clue that I wanted to move. I gazed longingly into his eyes. He looked absolutely lovely. His agonized eyes stared back into mine, almost like he was searching for something. I didn’t look away, I couldn’t.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I miss you. I don’t think there are words to explain.” I continued to stare, leaking out my heart’s words. His eyes softened, letting his smile drop ever so slightly.

“I know just what you mean. It feels as if my heart has been taken away. And yet, every time I think about our distance, it feels as if my heart is being ripped apart, the pain too much to bear.” I felt a twinge of guilt. That is exactly how I feel every minute of the day, but he didn’t need to feel that too. I rested my head again against his chest. Letting my next response be muffled by his shirt.

“No, you shouldn’t feel like that. It’s too much.” He surprised me when he laughed suddenly. It wasn’t mocking at all, it was gentle and heartfelt.

“Dearest Faye, do you honestly think I would feel any other way?” His voice had suddenly become pained at the end. I lifted my head again, studying his features for the cause of his pain.

“No, I suppose not. I just feel awful that I’m putting you through that. I feel that way about you, shouldn’t that be enough?” His smile grew a bit, I felt my own lips twitching also.

“You have not changed a bit. Your still always wanting to take all of the responsibility for everything. Honestly Faye, I don’t know what to do with you.” He mocked playfully. I smiled at him, feeling blush creep up my cheekbones. He knew me better than I knew myself. I felt his fingertips gently brush themselves along my cheek, ever so gently. I closed my eyes, sighing when another familiar voice. Not the one I wanted to hear the most in the world though, not the one I have been dreaming about for so long. I looked to him again, locking my eyes with his. His smile disappeared when he saw the look I gave him. His eyes anxiously searched my face, trying to commit to memory more than it already was. I heard the voice again. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, letting his eyes close momentarily. The voice called out again, sounding almost anxious. He opened his eyes, sighing once before carefully leaning down to me to lightly kiss my cheek. I closed my eyes, trying to hold on to the sensation longer than it lasted.

“Goodbye, my Faye. I will miss you dearly.” I opened my eyes, wanting to see him once more before he left again, but it was no use. He was already gone. The anxious voice called to me again. I reluctantly sank back into the darkness, feeling just as hopeless as I had when I went in.

I opened my eyes, only to see my father staring at me, concerned. I blinked twice, keeping my composure. I tried not to think of the events that just took place, but it was inevitable. I could feel the burning tears rising under my lids. I closed my eyes, fighting back the familiar salty liquid. When I felt composed enough to keep the tears reigned, I opened my eyes and smiled at my father.

“Faye, are you all right?” I pushed a smile, maybe a little too much, but my father didn’t notice.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m sorry; I must have been day dreaming.” He smiled, a smug look graced his features.

“I suppose I’m not surprised. You have always been the dreamer of the family.” He rolled his eyes a bit at that last part. I just managed to smile weakly at him, his words were true.

My father returned to his paper with one last fleeting glance towards me. I smiled at him until I felt an odd sensation in the pit of my stomach. A cramp had suddenly become very apparent. The knots were becoming more and more unbearable; I knew I had to get out of here. The clock was taunting me, ticking away the useless seconds turning into wasted minutes of my time. I looked to my father, his small round glasses overlapping his curious eyes. His paper was folded to his usual sports section; he furrowed his eyebrows when he realized his favorite team was behind. He looked up from his paper, noticing I was staring. I just smiled at him, my face sympathetic for his bad luck. The pain was continuing with full force now and I clutched my stomach, gritting my teeth, biting my lip, doing anything to stop and hide the pain. I wasn’t as successful as I had hoped because my father noticed.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I straightened my face; I didn’t want to have this conversation right now. I knew exactly why I was having this pain, I knew it and I most certainly did not feel like sharing.

“Oh, it’s nothing daddy, I just have a little stomach cramp. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure Faye? You are acting a bit strange today.”

“Yeah, really, it’s nothing.”

My father didn’t seem convinced but decided to go back to his paper anyway. Wanting to elude the situation, I said I had to run to school before I was late. He just nodded at me, not even looking up from his paper. This didn’t bother me in the least, the sooner I got out of my house the better.

As soon as I got around the corner, out of sight from my parents, I ran right to the front door, not about to stop for anything. I ran through the doorway, pulling the door closed behind me. I took in a lung full of fresh air, letting all of my worries be pushed to the back of my head. I took out my car keys from my front pocket of my jeans, and pressed the button to unlock my car. I got into the driver’s seat, setting my backpack down in the passenger’s seat next to me, sighing as I started the car. This was going to be a very long day.