***Dedicated to Anonymous commenter at 2:07am from the post ‘The Haunting’! Here’s your BONUS! I hope you (all) enjoy!***
With one hand over my mouth, sealing it shut, I shoved Daniel out of my way and ran into the bathroom. I ended up making it just in time, and I couldn’t believe how sick I was. I was disgusted with myself; with Samantha! Samantha was the Monica Lewinski of haunted pasts. A perverted memory, to say the least. She was the kind of person who knew exactly how to get under people’s skin; all she had to do was exist, and by default, she got under my skin.
After flushing I put the top down and then sat. My arms hung over my legs, and my head rest on top. My neck stretched and the sweat built up even more; this position was not helping. This bathroom was not helping. Samantha being out there, with Daniel, was not helping. I had promised myself that I wasn’t going to cry about this anymore. It happened a while ago after all. But I couldn’t help myself, the tears just started flowing without my consent. The memories were as sour as the tears they provoked, and I whimpered. Like a pathetic little puppy, I whimpered.
When I got out of the stall, I was shocked at how horrible I looked in the mirror. The girl staring back at me barely looked like me. I remember being a lot happier than this. I washed my hands and wiped away what residue of sadness I had encrusted on my face. Even though I threw up, even though I cried, I still felt sick. The pounding headache didn’t help either.
In that moment, I was afraid that I could never entirely trust Daniel again. Or that it would take a considerable amount of time. There were a million-and-one Samantha’s out there, how will I know?
“Anna?” by the sound of the voice, I could tell it was Daniel. “Anna? Are you okay?”
I remained silent. In my quest to calm myself back to a tranquil state, I had closed my eyes and tried focusing on my breathing.
“Anna I’m coming in,” Daniel said.
Daniel found me hunched over the sink, with trembling arms that held me up. I trembled with rage.
Daniel placed a hand over my shoulder, instantly I melted at the touch. “Anna,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d be here. Honestly.” A pause entered and not a word was exchanged. “Anna, say something.”
I peeled myself off the sink, and with nothing but fury, I struck Daniel across his face with an open hand. My palm sizzled beside me, and Daniel’s half-shock, half-expectant, face burned into my memory.
“That was long overdue,” I spat through gritted teeth.
Daniel remained silent, probably in the hopes to not pluck a final chord of mine. I was normally a non-violent person, especially towards a person I really love, so I was just as shocked at myself as Daniel was.
A final tear ran out. “I want to go home.”
I couldn’t tell to which home I was referring to. How could I have been so happy with Daniel this whole time, and have one person swoop in and fuck it all up? How could I love Daniel so much, and hate him for a single moment, all at the same time? How?