Page 132 of Connected (Broken 2)


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I threw her suitcase today. I wouldn’t let her go.

I’m in love with her.

I remember that day well. I can’t believe he was in love with me already.

She’ll never accept me. I don’t care about her reservations. I understood why she wouldn’t marry me but I know she loves me. I just know it.

I should leave her alone but I can’t.

……..

She knows. She knows everything about me. I can’t handle the pity in her eyes. What if she thinks I’ll become a monster too? What if she takes Dillan from me?

Dillan… he should be mine.

I pushed her away and now she’s gone.

I never want to see her again.

I can’t handle never seeing her again.

Why couldn’t she stay out of my room?

Why did she have to see?

What if she tells someone?

I feel scared.

I feel scared… his words echo through my mind like I’m hearing him read this to me, like I’m hearing him tell me his story.

All of the others he ended with ‘I felt…’, never ‘I feel….’ It breaks my heart.

I place the journal down on the bed and rub my eyes.

Only one more to go and then I have to leave. It’s almost four.

My eyes start drifting as I read. My head is hurting, but I can’t stop.

I had Dillan today. Does he see me as his father?

I hope he does.

I was going to talk to Gwen about it. I thought about telling her through the bathroom door a while ago. Mostly so I couldn’t see her reaction and then take the rejection with pride.

I remember worrying constantly that I’d resent him because of my brother.

I’ve never felt love so unconditionally for another person before. Not including Gwen. But this is different.

I remember that. I remember him calling to me when I was in the bathroom. I never did find out what he wanted to say. I guess now I know.

We had sex without a condom.

It was.

Words can’t describe it. Amazing, powerful, intense.

Love.

Freedom.

I should tell her about the pills. I should tell her they’re fakes.

But I see Dillan and I see everything I didn’t know I wanted.

Would it be so bad if she got pregnant?

I imagine her swollen with my child. Perhaps a girl.

I feel happy.

I feel carefree.

I feel fixed.

That’s something we decide together!

She knows everything. Everything.

I wouldn’t let her leave, I couldn’t.

She could be pregnant.

I want her to be, because then I might not lose her. Maybe she’ll marry me.

I need to show her that I care.

I need to show her that I’m sorry. I’ll make her breakfast. I have to do something. She wouldn’t let me touch her through the night. Even whilst she was sleeping.

I can’t lose her.

I feel fear.

Only one more page left. I daren’t read it. But I do.

She’s gone.

I haven’t cried since I was nine and now I can’t stop.

She knows about the pills. She knows.

She’ll terminate it. If she is.

And she won’t tell me.

How do I live with that?

I feel empty.

Tears spring to my eyes and fall down my cheeks. Guilt hits me in the chest and cramps every single muscle in my body until I’m curled into a ball.

I should have told him. I could still tell him.

He really does love me…

******

My chest is burning; I think I’m getting sick. I try to inhale a large breath, but all I can taste is ash and it feels like my throat is closing.

What’s that noise? It sounds like an alarm.

I blink open my eyes, but all I can see is a crowd of grey that seems to be coming in from under the door. What the hell?

Am I dreaming?

My lungs choke up again and I scramble off the bed, my body weak from lack of oxygen.

Oh my god.

Fire!

I race to the door and pull it open, wincing when the metal handle burns the palm of my hand.

My feet carry me to the stairs as I cover my mouth with my shirt.

Orange… all I see is orange and red. The walls are glowing.

The bottom of the stairs are completely engulfed in flames.

Fear grips me as I slam the door and think back to the lessons I took in school.

What to do during a fire. Why didn’t I pay attention? I can picture it now, next to the school board. There were pictures… step by step guides on what to do. But I was ten! Why didn’t they teach me again?

Think Gwen, think!

Fire brigade. Block the edges of the door with blankets to keep the smoke out. Open the window.

The window is probably the first thing I should do.

No. The fire brigade!

It’s so hot, my hands are clammy and the burn on my palm is stinging.

I pick up my phone and dial 999. “I need the fire brigade now!” I bark out the address, tell her I’m at the top, that there’s no way out, and quickly pad the area around the door.

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