by
Melissa L. Delgado
* * * *
Ending a Broken Journey
Copyright © 2013 Melissa L. Delgado
Cover design by Nelani Palomino
For all business inquiries: [email protected]
Edited by Brittany Graves
Photographer: Bella Calderon
Model: Jazmine DiGiulio
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
– Author Unknown
Life.
Life is the one thing in this world that I could never fully prepare for. Never truly know what can happen from today until tomorrow.
One day everything seems to be as it should be; the next? Everything is falling apart.
How am I supposed to cope with the shit that is thrown my way? How am I supposed to smile and act when the worst seems to have happened?
The loss of a family member, the relationship lost between friends, the betrayal of a loved one? Daily struggles that I face
Daily struggles I’m not sure will turn around?
I want to scream and shout WHAT and WHY are these things happening to me?
Did I deserve to be the one betrayed? Did I deserve to be the one who was left out? Did I deserve to lose that special someone?
Life.
Life is the one thing in this world that I could never fully prepare for. Never truly know what can happen from today until tomorrow.
And even with all of the bad shit thrown at me, what do I say? Do I let it defeat me?
No. I don’t.
I hold my head up high and know that what I’m facing today:
The loss of a family member…The lost relationship between friends…The betrayal I endured from someone that I love… The shock of my world being turned upside down…Is only a temporary situation; a temporary setback.
That today…Life may have won the battle, but that I—I will win the war.
IS IT REALLY that time already? I grumble and roll over with one eye half open, not wanting to leave my comfortable queen sized bed to shut off my cell phone alarm. Waking up daily to Skindred’s Pressure could quite possibly affect my moods starting off the day. Then again, it could be that the song is so loud in the dark hours of the morning, it simply scares the shit out of me. Soon, very soon, I will need to find a song to ease me into the early ass mornings I so begrudgingly have become accustomed to.
Sitting up, I arch my back and stretch, stifling a yawn. I swing one leg after the other off the bed, and stumble across my bedroom for the light switch.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as temporary blindness sets in. While my eyes wait to adjust from the contrast of dark to light that now fills my room, I squint.
Shuffling across my room, I lazily make my way to the bathroom. Flipping on the switch, I stare at my reflection.
An ugly, empty shell of my former self.
Who is this woman? Where did the spark in her blue eyes go? Where did the smile that used to light up a room disappear to? Why are all of the features that once attracted those around her, now twisted and hollow?
I, Mackenzie Alexa Tillson, see emptiness.
Emptiness and hatred.
Hatred for myself, hatred for those who betrayed me, hatred for being so naive, and ultimately, hatred for the fact that I haven’t truly moved on from any of it.
Every day I tell myself I’m going to do better, I’m going to hate myself a little less, that today is a brand new day and I will move past all of this—really move past all of this. So far? I’ve had no such luck.
Damaged. Empty.
These two words would probably best describe me for the past year or so. Depressed? I suppose it’s possible, but I refuse to let anyone else see the real me; the Mackenzie who struggles with just merely getting out of bed daily. I guess I’m pretty good at hiding it. If I’m really not, my friends and family must’ve grown tired of my constant rejection of their help, and have since decided to accept the new Mackenzie; the lifeless Mackenzie. Fortunately, for me, my freelance work in photography allows me to wallow in my own self-pity for as long as I want to.
I haven’t always been this way…I used to be full of life—smiling, laughing, even telling jokes. I liked myself back then just fine, and was I happy? Absolutely. But what is happiness? Is there such a thing as “true happiness” or a “happy ending”? I’m told there is, and although I have a great support system in my family and friends, I’ve yet to experience it in my life, or with myself, so I cease to believe it exists.
My very own internal battle scars.
It’s baffling to me that any one person can ruin someone else’s entire existence. But, it happens. In fact, I’m sure it happens to countless people every single day. Hell, it’s happening to me right now. And, as much as I want to move on from this, I simply don’t know how. I can smile and laugh as if nothing’s wrong, but I know the truth. I have no clue what it means to love or be loved, to live as if there’s no tomorrow and to dance like nobody’s watching. All of these metaphors are lost on me, and I’ve learned to merely exist. That’s what I’m good for—existing. I’m afraid, from my past experiences in life, that’s all I’ll ever be good for.
I give myself one last look and sigh.
I shake my head of my internal dark thoughts and the tears I feel forming. They seem to come almost daily, so I thought there would be no more of them left to cry.
I was wrong.
I sulkily finish brushing my teeth and turn away from the mirror to continue getting ready for my day. Looking at my reflection in any mirror makes my heart ache and skin crawl simultaneously. How I’m still surviving is a damn good question. Maybe I’m meant for more than this? Maybe one day I’ll find out, and maybe, just maybe, one day I can learn to, at the very least, love myself.
“Mackenzie!” Ade and Cass exclaim at the same time. I turn around at the sound of my name, and a faint smile appears on my lips. Instantly, I see concern in their eyes, so I push to try a more genuine smile. Good, that seems to help placate them.
One day at a time.
The clicks of their heels sound against the hardwood floor as they both come walking up to the table I’ve chosen to sit at. To the left of me are floor to ceiling windows at our local coffee shop, Macchiato’s. It’s become a constant in our lives, and since it’s just around the corner from my father’s building in downtown, Tillson Remodeling Inc., and where Cass works; we frequent here.
“What’s up, chica?” Ade says, taking a seat across from me and handing me my usual caramel mocha coffee. Cass places herself beside Ade, setting her coffee down. I take in their beauty and confidence in themselves.
Adriana Lila Soto and Cassandra Tyce—my two very best girlfriends in this entire world. Adriana, or Ade as we all call her, is the epitome of a true Latin beauty. Five foot seven, dark hair that falls between curly and straight on any given day, with deep brown eyes that are always smiling. She’s stubborn but confident, sassy but charming, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.
Cassandra, or Cass, is the complete opposite when it comes to looks, but still just as beautiful in her own right. Five foot one with pin straight deep blonde hair that flows down just above her waist, and stunning light hazel eyes. She’s much more reserved, but balances us all out. She can handle her own if need be, so I’ve never worried about her appearance of innocence.
“Mackenzie. Hello, earth to Mackenzie?” Ade waves her hand in front of my face. I hadn’t realized I had been blankly staring at them for an extended period. I chuckle it away, “Hey girls! Thanks for my coffee.” I smile at them both, “Sorry, my mind was just somewhere else.”
“It’s been somewhere else for far too long,” Cass mutters sadly. I choose to ignore her comment. I know they worry about the person I’ve slowly become over the years; how I’ve stayed at that constant state. It hurts to even think his name. I push it to the back of my mind and try to focus on the conversations taking place in front of me instead—not the internal struggle going on in my mind.
“So, what’s up, chica?” Ade asks me for the second time.
“Nothing much, really. It’s about the same as every day, girls,” I say with just a hint of bitterness to my tone.
“Okay, well are you doing any jobs today, or are you still waiting for something to come in?” Cass pipes in.
“It’s been kind of slow, but my dad wants me to do a photo shoot for his company merger coming up in the next couple of weeks, so I’ll have plenty to do soon,” I explain to them.
“That should be fun then. Do you have any idea of where you want to do the photo shoot?” Ade looks at me questioningly.
I can tell these coffee meetings are starting to wear on them. They’re obviously grasping at straws to get any kind of conversation out of me, and I feel like shit about it. I can’t help it though. The fact of the matter is; I get out of bed to meet them weekly. That in and of itself should be calculated as a win. But, before I can give them a general answer to satisfy them, I hear a very deep, bravado voice behind me call out my name in confusion.
“Mackenzie? Is that you?”
I turn around to see a tall and extremely good-looking male figure approaching our table with a breathtaking smile. There’s no way this guy either knows me, or wants to know me. Superficial or not he is way, way out of my league.
I cannot place him as he continues to stride up to our table. Although something in his eyes is so familiar to me, I still can’t figure it out. That is, until he’s standing right in front of us, and I get a look at the unique distinct pale green color of his eyes. Then, and only then, am I completely assaulted with memories once he calls me by his childhood nickname for me.
“Little Kennie Tillson? It is you!”
Dear Diary,
Being a teenager sucks sometimes. Fourteen years old and I’m in the most awkward stage of my life. It doesn’t help that while I’m in the most awkward stage of my life, Drew is just getting more and more cute. Kip and Drew have become best buds over the past few years, with Drew’s little brother Jax and I tagging along. It works out for me because I get to see Drew more and more every day! Especially when we start going to the same school in a couple of months! I know he doesn’t see me that way. I’m just Kip’s kid sister Mackenzie or “Kennie” as he likes to call me. I really hate the nickname. It’s a running joke between my brother and him because it’s not only part of my name, but he thinks I’m such a tomboy, so for him, it’s fun to call me by a guy’s name. If he only knew I was in love with him…Whatever! Just because they are three years older than me, they think they are so cool. Oh Drew, I’m pretty sure I love you…
I HEARD THE doorbell ring, so I got up and went to answer it. I looked through the window and saw it was Drew. I excitedly opened the door for him. My mood fell almost just as quickly. He looked as if he’d been crying.
“Hey Drew, what’s up?”
“Hey Kennie, is your brother home?”
“Yeah sure come on in. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah I’m good, thanks.”
I led him to my brother’s room, even though I knew he knew exactly where it was, and knocked, “Hey Kip! Drew’s here.”
“Come on in, bro,” Kip yelled from the other side of the door.
“Thanks Kennie.” He opened the door and closed it, but not all the way, so I did what any little sister who was crushing hard on her older brother’s friend would’ve done—I eavesdropped.
“Hey Drew, what’s up man?” I heard shuffling noises and then a plop, which I assumed was Drew falling down on the bed.
“Bro, I have some really shitty news.”
My heart started to beat fast again. What news could be that bad?
“Alright, well out with it. What? Did you get grounded for trying to sneak another girl up to your room?” I heard Kip chuckle, but I frowned—like I wanted to hear that.
“Kip, it’s so much worse than that. We’re moving—to fucking Virginia.”
“What? Why?” I heard the shock in my brother’s tone.
This was so much worse than I could’ve ever imagined.
“Yeah man, I didn’t know how to tell you. Apparently dad’s business is transferring him out of state, and of course, Jax and I have no fucking say in the matter.”
“What the fuck? Right before senior year? When do you leave?” He asked.
“Right before senior fucking year. We leave next week.”
I heard a low whistle and a sigh. “I can’t fucking believe this. This sucks my left and right nut, man.”
“I know. I was pretty pissed when they told me…”
That’s all I could stomach hearing before I ran back to my room, threw myself on my bed, and cried because Andrew Trey Dean, the love of my life, was moving away for good.
(One Week Later)
Dear Diary,
D-day is here and I’m just as sad as I was last week and every day since finding out the boy I’m in love with is leaving for good. I kept hoping this was a lame joke Kip, Drew and Jax were playing on me, but it’s not. It’s all true and I’m so sad. Life’s not fair! Not fair at all! There is no way I can deal with him moving away!
THERE WAS A knock on my door, so I closed my journal and sat up from lying on my stomach.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Hey Kennie, it’s me,” The deep voice answered.
“Hey Drew, come on in.”
Althou
gh my parents had very strict rules about boys in my room, I thought it could’ve been the one acceptance in this unholy and unfair world of mine.
He strolled over to my bed and sat down. I felt a little embarrassed and childish at the realization of pink everywhere and boy band posters randomly plastered all over my wall.
I lifted my leg and sat Indian style so I faced him directly; he did the same.
“I just wanted to come say goodbye to you privately. We’re leaving soon and Kip’s going to head back over with me to see us off.”
I nodded my head in agreement with him, as I tried to keep my tears at bay so he didn’t see how much I thought it all sucked.
“I know I goofed on you a lot, had a lot of jokes at your expense,” he smiled sadly, “but I wanted to say that you’re a pretty cool little sister. That, and…I’ll miss you. Keep that brother of yours on his toes when I’m gone, okay?” he winked.
“Will you come back, Drew?” I asked hopefully.
“Aww Kennie, I’m not really sure,” he scratched the back of his head, and then looked back at me with those great pale green eyes of his—ones I committed to memory, just in case I never saw them again. “I’ll make sure mom knows we need to visit, at the very least, on holidays.”
I smiled at him, even though I knew he was making promises he couldn’t keep.
“Well it won’t be the same without you around here.”
He nodded and then stood up, “Come here, and give me a hug.”
I stood as the tears started to roll down at rapid speeds. I moved into his arms for a hug. “I’m really going to miss you, Drew,” was all I could manage to sniffle out.
He let go of me and tilted my chin up with his thumb and index finger. As he wiped the tears from my eyes with his free hand, he responded, “Me too Sweetheart, me too.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the top of my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to remember how I felt in that moment. It was a memory I wanted locked away in my head forever. He slowly broke away from me, smiled and turned to walk out of my room.
Ending a Broken Journey Page 1