Something Easier


5. Chapter Five

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I think I might have stayed if I hadn't talked to Gemma that night.


It had been a week since she had heard the news of her fourth month pregnancy, ending. She had been staying at home with our mother, but rarely coming out of her old room. Her fiancé, Mike, just kind of walked around the house not really knowing what to do. Except cry.


The day I talked to Gemma was a Sunday, she had refused to go to church and I decided to stay with her at home. I was supposed to have left for London the following day, but with everything that had gone on I told everyone that I wasn't going anymore.


Gemma got the news of what I was thinking of doing, and for the first time in that entire week she stepped out of her room, and into mine. I remember not knowing whether, to stand when she walked in or just sit there, I chose the latter.


She had looked at me for a couple seconds and finally said a very simple sentence.


"I'm leaving, so should you."


With that she had left my room, and I was left confused.

However, my confusion didn't last long because the very next day tragedy hit at my best friend's house.


"Can I help you with something?" The lad asks again looking up at the mattress Maycie and I were looking at.


I could immediately feel her tense next to me, but I know better than to confront her in front of others.


"Yeah, could you get me that top mattress? Do you deliver?" I ask the guy, his light brown hair disheveled as if he had just woken up.


"No we don't actually, but I can drive it up for you in my truck." He says.


Maycie looks at me and her eyes widen and then quickly look the ground. I can literally see her heart pounding in her chest and I know I have to get her out of here.


"Can you hold on a second?" I ask the guy and pull Maycie by her coat out of the warehouse and eventually out of the store all together.


"What's wrong Mayce?" I say as soon as we out in the cold air.


"I-I Harry." She tries to speak but her voice is only coming out in stammered parts.


"Okay, okay let's get out of here." I say forgetting about the mattress and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. I lead her to the end of the street where luckily there is already a bus waiting.


We board and I walk Maycie to the very back and take a seat. The immediacy of her tears spilling over her eyes scares the living shit out of me.


"Maycie. Mayce, please tell me what's going on." I plead trying to get her head out of under my arm. The bus has begun move and I'm still trying to coax her out.

She doesn't budge.


For the rest of the bus ride I just let her cry, but the intense wanting to know what's wrong is eating at me.


Finally the bus comes to the station to switch routes and I start to move slightly.


"Maycie, we need to switch buses. C'mon please." I whisper as I see that the driver is growing impatient on us still on the bus.

She gets up slowly and I'm pained to see her eyes swollen and red from the tears. The driver notices as we walk out of the bus, his emotion changing from annoyance to pity.


Whilst we wait on the bench for the bus back to the city, I try again to know what's going on.


"Maycie, please tell me what's wrong."


"This will never go away will it?" She cries into my chest, an unavoidable ache growing in my heart.


"Do you know how miserable I am? That guy in that shop, his accent was mildly similar to the one from that-" She can't finish her sentence before she begins to cry again, and I finally realize what happened.


"Oh Mayce." Is all I can say, not trusting my voice. I know I have to be her rock right now.


I knew that Maycie did not want to go home to Lauren in her state at all. So we're now sat in the middle of my bathroom in my flat. She just finished her second episode of vomit, and she's just lying on my lap, limp.

She's no longer crying, but I know it's not voluntary. I think that she just doesn't have any more tears left to spare.


After an hour by the toilet, Maycie finally sits up and begins to rub her eyes.


"I hate crying, especially over something as stupid as this."


"Shut up. Please just shut up." I say sternly whilst extending a hand to help her up from the tile floor.


"What?" She snaps back and I look down.


"Why do you do that to yourself? Why do you beat yourself up for crying over it?" I croak as my voice begins to crack.


"It's not something I want, Harry! I don't want to be a baby about it all."


She cries stepping past me and out into the hall.


"Dammit Maycie you don't have to do that! It happened two months ago, two damn months ago. You're allowed to cry about something as bad as what happened to you. It hasn't been two years it's been eight weeks; you have to let yourself feel all of that pain. " I yell and I regret instantly.


She is taken aback by my choice of words and looks down at her feet.


"You don't have to act like nothing happened, because it did." I say much quieter taking a step into her.


"I just want it to go away, I want the smallest things that remind me of that night to just vanish." She cries into my chest, and my thoughts that she was out of tears diminish.


I don't say anything more; I just let her cry some more until her breath is finally even. Once she's as calm as she can get, I lead her to the sofa in front of the window. I sit her down and reach over for her sketchpad and pencil buried in the crack of the couch. Once I have it, I place it in her hands and she doesn't argue me about it.


She simply looks out of the window now showing the early afternoon sky. And soon enough her pencil is flying across the page, she always had a talent for drawing the most miscellaneous things and turning them into a beautiful piece of art.

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