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Over (First chapter)

'Why?' I ask. I don't understand. It's not logical.
'Meg'' he starts saying.
'Oh, no,' I say. 'You have no right to call me that.' I can feel anger flash through me, like lightening.
How can he, dare he, call me 'Meg' as if nothing had happened? As if he hadn't just...
I break my thoughts away.
'I wish I could explain'' he tries to say.
'What's stopping you?' I retort.
I'm trying hard to stay strong. My motto, 'Never let anyone see you cry.'
'Are you being blackmailed? Are you physically incapable of telling me?' Another lightening strike of anger flashes through me.
He looks down, stuffs his hands in his pockets and lowers his eyes.
'Nothing, James, is stopping you from telling me.' Now, I can feel a little pain. I swallow it, dry and hard.
I refuse to show my pain, my weakness.
'I'm moving,' he says, kicking a stone. 'Sorry.'
'What, we can't have a long-distance relationship?'
The cold night air makes my eyes water and I blink several times. The water was turning salty.
'That's not the problem.' His head is still hanging low, in shame.
I jut my chin out; he should be feeling shame.
'Then what is?' I demand. There's a new edge to my voice, and it frightens him a little. I can see him shiver.
Good.
He doesn't answer me, though. He only walks to a nearby bench and sits down.
Wind blows a lock of hair in my mouth. Annoyed, I flick it away.
James has his head in his hands, he's thinking.
I roll my eyes.
What do you tell your newly ex-girlfriend who you've dated for the past two years? Who you've known since you were both ten? How can anything he say make it right?
He gets up, and walks away, leaving me with the words, 'I can't tell you.'
I run after him and even manage to overtake him. Then, when I stop in front of him, I firmly put my hand on his chest. 'And why not?'
He ignores me and pushes past me.
'Don't you walk away,' I say, then grab his hand. 'I deserve to know.'
He twists his neck to look at me ' sorry painted in his eyes ' and gently takes my hand off his and starts walking again.
That does it. 'Don't you walk away!' I repeat, but now I shout it.
Birds that were sleeping peacefully are disturbed. I can hear the fluttering of their wings.
He doesn't listen. As he breaks into a run, I struggle to keep up, my shorter legs pushing harder.
I get to the gate of the park and I look left, nothing. Then right, nobody there either.
He's gone and it's over. No use running now.
I grab my bag from the bench where I left it, sling it over my shoulder and return home.

'Meg!' my little sister, Annabelle, shouts. 'You're back.' She runs towards me.
I bend down to hug my six-year-old sister. Her hair smells of roses. Simply wonderful; sweet.
I let my sister out of the tight embrace, and, looking straight ahead, I can see my mother in the kitchen. She's cooking with Lillian on her hip.
I laugh lightly; even though Lillian is two she refuses to be put down. She likes being close to mom. I guess she feels safer.
I follow the delicious odor of food until I'm standing besides my mother. I kiss Lillian's fuzzy hair. Like our whole family, it's a chestnut brown.
'Do you want me to hold her, mom?' I ask.
'Thanks.' Her muscles uncoil as she hands over Lillian. She tries to grab mom's long hair.
'Lilly,' I say, 'you have to let mommy cook. Do you want to play?'
'Yeah!' Lillian replies, her toothy grin lights her face up.
In the lounge, I settle her down on a blanket and sit down, legs crossed. I pull at a strand on my shoe. I have to get new shoelaces.
Annabelle joins us. Bored, she reaches for the TV remote.
'No TV,' I say, feeling guilty. 'Dinner's going to be ready soon.' I take a teddy bear and rub its soft belly under Lillian's chin.
Annabelle sulks a little while, but Lillian giggles, and a baby's giggles are enough to render anyone happy. Annabelle tickles Lillian.

After dinner I retreat to my room, to mull over my evening.
Why did he break up with me? Why did he go? And where? Will I ever see him again?
Although do I want to see him again? I guess not... I get off my bed, grab a book then slump back down. The bed engulfs me and the book sucks me into its world.
I am lost.

It's eleven o'clock, I'm in bed and I finally let myself cry. Nobody can catch me now. While everyone is sleeping, having saccharine dreams, my pillow is soaking up salt water.
I keep quiet, though. Can't let my parents hear, don't want them to wonder about their daughter. Have to let their sleep remain undisturbed.
I pull the duvet over my head, and I lose myself again.