Jessica POV

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I watch as Yuri closes the door behind her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m clutching my hand to my chest, terrified to read what she wrote.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I saw the look in her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I saw the heartache, the regret, the fear... the love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I keep my hand clutched tightly to my chest without reading it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I refuse to accept that whatever words are written on my palm will obliterate what little hope I had for our maybe someday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My body flinches, and my eyes flick open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t know what just woke me up, but I was in the middle of a dead sleep. It’s dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sit up on the bed and press my hand to my forehead, wincing from the pain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t feel nauseated anymore, but I’ve never in my life been this thirsty. I need water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I stand up and stretch my arms above my head, then glance down to the alarm clock: 2:45 A.M.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I could still use about 3 more days of sleep to recover from this hangover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m walking toward Yuri’s bathroom when an unfamiliar feeling washes over me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I pause before reaching the door. I’m not sure why I pause, but I suddenly feel out of place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It feels strange, walking toward this bathroom right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It doesn’t feel as if I’m walking toward my bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It doesn’t feel as if it belongs to me at all, unlike how my bathroom felt in my last apartment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That bathroom felt like my bathroom. As if it belonged partly to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That apartment felt like my apartment. All the furniture in it felt like my furniture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing about this place feels like me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Other than the belongings that were contained in the 2 suitcases I brought with me that first night, nothing else here feels even remotely like mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The dresser? Borrowed. The bed? Borrowed. Thursday-night TV? Borrowed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The kitchen, the living room, my entire bedroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They all belong to other people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I feel as if I’m just borrowing this life until I find a better one of my own. I’ve felt as if I’ve been borrowing everything since the day I moved in here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hell, I’m even borrowing someone else girlfriends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yuri isn’t mine. She’ll never be mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As much as that hurts to accept, I’m so sick of this constant, ongoing battle with my heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t take this anymore. I don’t deserve this kind of self-torture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In fact, I think I need to move out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving out is the only thing that can start the healing, because I can’t be around Yuri anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not with what her presence does to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You hear that, heart? We’re even now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I smile at the realization that I’m finally about to experience life on my own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m consumed with a sense of accomplishment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I open the bathroom door and flip on the light... then immediately fall to my knees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, God.

 

 

 

Oh, no.

 

 

 

No, no, no, no, no!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grab Taeyeon by the shoulders and turn her over, but her whole body is limp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her eyes are rolled back in her head, and her face is pale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, my God! “YURI!” I crawl over her and reach for the door to Yuri's bedroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m screaming her name so loudly my throat feels as if it’s ripping apart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I attempt to turn the doorknob several times, but my hand keeps slipping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon begins to convulse, so I lunge over her and lift her head, then drop my ear to to make sure she’s breathing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sobbing, screaming Yuri's name over and over. I know she can’t hear me, but I’m scared to let go of Taeyeon's head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TAEYEON!” I cry. What am I doing? I don’t know what to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do something, JESSICA.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I lower Taeyeon's head carefully back to the floor and spin around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grip the doorknob more firmly and pull myself to my feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I swing Yuri's bedroom door open and rush toward the bed, then jump on it and climb over to where she’s lying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Yul!” I scream, shaking her shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She lifts an elbow in defense as she rolls over, then lowers it when she sees me hovering over her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Taeyeon!” I yell hysterically, pointing to the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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