A Broken Heart

This is a chapter from a book I am writing

'I'm sorry, I really am. Like... I wanted to come and see you, I just wasn't sure if you wanted me, or if I had anything to say and then it was just really easy to convince myself that you didn't want to see me and then well... Then I guess I convinced myself that what I was doing was okay' Rachel Montgomery stared at her closest friend, her stomach churning with anxiety.

'Why do you guys seem to be so good at making this about you? I honestly don't even care' Millar shrugged her shoulders like Rachel had forgotten to bring her a drink from the cafe when she had promised she would.

'Because you never want to make it about you Mils. You don't care about anything these days, so maybe if we show you how bad we truly feel, maybe you'll get annoyed, angry, anything but you'll be caring. Maybe not about you, maybe about you, caring is caring and that is good enough for me' Rachel blew her fringe out of her eyes and took a mental note to get it cut after she left the hospital.

Millar stared at Rachel, not saying a word. She delved back into the memories the two of them shared, from back in primary school, until the incident. They had shared heart ache, job woes, parent issues and everything else. This was just another thing to add on to the list.

'You know I don't like hospital's Millar. I tried to come the day after but it just, it brought back the memories. And you know what that's like now, so don't you try and tell me that I should have worked through it because it's not that easy and you know it' Rachel fought against the tears as she remembered the last time she was in this place.

'It's been two years now Rach... if it isn't better by now, it probably won't be. And typically, the hospital is going to be a place you will have to frequent over the years you are alive. And I'm assuming you might have a few of those. Unless you get run over by the bus in next year or so' 

Rachel had avoided the hospital for the past two years since her sister had passed away. She had been fourteen, and the girls eighteen, when Lisa had taken her last breath. But it had been so different then, and that was part of what made it so hard for Rachel to see her best friend in this situation.

'I heard your catch up with Sienna didn't go so well?' Rachel avoided the topic of her late sister as often as she could.

'Yup. Didn't want to see her anyway'

'Is that how you're going to speak of me when I leave this room?'

'That depends. If you're a b***h whilst you are here then yes, if not, the maybe not' Millar's honesty felt a little cold to Rachel. Both of them had dealt with anxiety in high school which gave them a tendency to sugar coat things and go with the nicer option of telling someone the truth. But this was different, a different side of Millar than Rachel was used to.

'You've changed'

'No f*****g way. Tell me more!'

'Why are you doing this Millar? You're being a b***h' Rachel's voice wavered, she never had been good with confrontation and also tended to avoid it when possible.

'Because I hate this. Everything. I think it gives me reason enough to be a so called b***h'

'So you want everybody to hate you? To hate the thought of you even when you are dead?'

'I'll be dead so what does it matter what people think of me?'

'Have you ever stopped to think about how it might make others feel? When you are like this, even when and if you succeed at killing yourself? Have you ever stopped being selfish to think of others? Even once?' Rachel blurted out angrily, the whole situation biting away at her.

'No'

'Well you should. Because the way you are feeling now? In pain, wanting them back, you're just going to inflict that on more people. And again on the people you are related to, and know both you and your family. Are you really going to be that selfish and take your own life, when you are here, physically healthy, and able to live!?' Millar knew Rachel was referring to her sister, how could she not when Millar wanted to take her own life, and Lisa didn't have an option in hers.

'Because I don't want it! I'd rather be dead than living here with pretentious people trying to teal me how to deal and move on from my families murder'

'You know what!? I wish you were dead too, I wish I could trade you in for Lisa. Because she wanted to be here more than anything, she wanted to keep living but she couldn't. She wasn't given that option. And here you are, sitting here, blatantly selfish, suicidal when so many people want to live. I wish I could swap out your meaningless waste of a life for the life of my beautiful sister, who had so many f*****g dreams. I wish to God for that one miracle, and I would be so happy to have you gone' Rachel spat, the vein in her temple throbbing and her eyes blazing. She could feel the fire dying out as soon as the words stopped, and the regret settling in, but she couldn't take the words back. And as much as she regretted saying them, she wasn't so sure she if she could say that she didn't mean it. Because she did want her sister back, more than anything in the world.

'I'm sorry Millar... I know you've been through hell and back and I shouldn't be judging you-' 

'Get the f**k out of my room'

The two girls sat staring at each other in a defiant sort of awkward stubbornness. Rachel wanted to stay, to assure Millar that she truly didn't mean to say what she had, but she also wanted to fly out of that room and likely never come back.

And Millar, she could feel the tears coming to the brim. She knew she deserved the words that Rachel had flung her way, but that didn't minimize the sting once they had landed. To hear someone wanted her to die, to never see her face again and to be glad if it happened. To know that her best friend for over a decade, wanted nothing to do with her and wished upon the same star that Millar did, for Millar's life to end. That hurt.

'I truly didn't mean to say that Millar, you have to believe me!'

'But that doesn't mean you want it to be any less true. You still wish I would die'

'Why do you care? You also want yourself to die'

'Because I'm sick Rachel! I'm f*****g mentally unstable, tortured by the people that killed my family and sexually assaulted me, and plagued by the fact that my family lie in the morgue, dead and cold. I'm f*****g messed up in the head and that gives me plenty of reason to be suicidal. You are meant to be my friend! You are meant to love me, to help me, to tell me that no matter what, you will help me through this! But you want me dead. You don't f*****g care and you wish I was dead!' Millar's tears broke the edge and dripped down her face, giving a fragile look to her face.

'I wish you dead because I care! Because I want you to see just how fucked up your state of mind is, and yes, you have reason. But so do I! My best friend wants to kill herself because she can't handle the pain, she can't handle living because she doesn't know how to heal herself. Because I love you so much, I want you to see how it affects me too! You are practically my sister, and yet you treat me like I am nothing to you. Nothing!'

'You aren't nothing Rachel! F*****g hell, this isn't about you anymore!'

'It is though! This is about me! And Sienna! And your aunt and uncle, and the police, your colleagues, this is about everyone. This practically isn't about you anymore Millar, because you should think about others! What is this going to do to them? Knowing they could have found the words to say something, but couldn't? Knowing they couldn't save you despite their willingness to give you the world? That they weren't a good enough reason for you to try? Open your eyes Millar. Stop living in your black and white world, and live for everyone else. Just f*****g live' Rachel stopped herself from saying anymore and stalked out of the ice-cold room. She knew she was meant to have compassion for her friend, to say nice things but she couldn't do it. Not if they weren't going to make an impact.

Barrett Hartmann stood in the corridor having heard the whole argument. He saw the tears streaming down Rachel's face and the heartbreak written across her whole body, but he could also see the damage her words had done to Millar. To the false lull she had found, to the calm she had managed to find at times.

He could see her chin wobbling as she fought against the tears, and her fists as they were balled tight, in pure agony. And as he got closer, he heard the words going over, and over, and out her lips.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!' 

Again, she said it. And again. She couldn't stop them. Or the burning desire to scream, cry, or break something. So, she did all three. She screamed with nothing but the pain filling up her lungs. She cried with all the tears emptied into the Atlantic Ocean. And she broke her own heart, as she pleaded for the arms of those who bore her into this world.

Author's Note

If you would like to read more of the story don't hesitate to get in touch with me :)

Reviews

[ArtisticVisions]

Your stories and poems are all so amazing! Like Coyote Poetry said, this was powerful. I'd love to read more of it!

[Coyote Poetry]

A well-written story. I could feel the sadness and the need in the words. When our heart is broken. The world because lonely and cold. Thank you for sharing the powerful story.
Coyote

[Karmee]

lots of detail through out, like the imagery as well.
nicely put together.

[WillaDanvers]

Thank you :)