Preview of my newest story...still in the works.

Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock. Ok, I admit it; I am a sad, sad case. I was literally numb, lying on my bed, staring up at my ceiling. I wasn’t focused on anything in particular; nope I was a complete zombie, as my clock continued, tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock.
Every now and then a voice in my head, my own voice would say, Sarah, you stupid, stupid girl, in an, I told you so tone; and I would sigh in aggravation every time.
Why was I letting that jerk get to me so much? He who dumped me, he who must not be named; better yet we’ll call him, Mr. Scared-of-Commitment…Jerk-Face…the Third. Ha!
I could imagine gathering all the tokens of our now broken relationship, and tossing them into a ritualistic, “I’m over you” bon-fire. All the stuffed animals, the flowers, the sentimental keep-sakes, and of course the pictures; they would all meet a fiery demise.
I will not allow myself to cry. Hell no! I would get through this; he’s not worth a second thought. Oh, why then did I hurt so much? One thing, I was sure glad to have the apartment all to my self. I needed some alone time.
My room-mate, Cathy was recently engaged and spent most of her time at her parent’s house, getting ready for the wedding. The wedding wasn’t set for another six months, but I suppose you can never be too obsessed with your own wedding.
So, there I was. Numb, motionless; like I said earlier a sad, sad case. The ticking of my clock started to get on my nerve, or at least that was my excuse. The sky outside was now dark. I quickly glanced at my little wind-up clock to see that it was a little passed ten. How long was I lying here?
My kitchen was surprisingly clean, thanks to Cathy. On the table was a folded sheet of paper, standing upright, with a drawing of a heart, colored in red. I quickly smiled to myself as I opened it and began to read it.

Hey Sarah,
I wasn’t sure if you were home, but just letting you know that I’ll be staying at my parents tonight. I went shopping earlier; and I picked you up some strawberries; because I know they’re your fave. Anyways, I’ll be home tomorrow…

Love,
C.
I wasn’t surprised by any aspect of the note. It’s a good thing Cathy didn’t know about my break-up with Jerk-Face; I would feel guilty if I absorbed any time from her wedding preparations, so she could tend to me. That’s just how sweet and wonderful Cathy is.
It’s also a good thing that she wasn’t here, because I was currently in the “I want to be alone” phase; and if she were here, I doubt that I could hide the pain that, not only my face showed, but my entire demeanor betrayed.
Right now, only one thing could help…hot chocolate! I droned towards the sink, with kettle in hand and filled it with water. At that moment I felt my eyes begin to moisten and the pain in my heart— No! I refuse to cry!
Why couldn’t men be more like hot cocoa? Oven…on--I mean, why couldn’t they be warm and sweet and make us feel…warm and sweet? Not only warm and sweet, but warm and fuzzy and happy; like hot cocoa does for me.
Just then, from the corner of my eye, my cell phone caught my attention. A million and one thoughts seemed to race through my mind; however one thought seemed to dominate them all. Has he called?
I was surprised that I found the strength not to give in and check my phone. Close call—phew! I briefly distracted myself with finding my favorite blue mug; well if you’d seen it you would probably think it was a bowl with a handle. Upon successfully finding it in the dishwasher, I generously scooped hot cocoa into it.
Suddenly the urge to check my phone returned. No, I will not give in! But I still eyed my phone and hoped that he would call right this second. Silence. I shook off the disappointment just in time to pour the hot water into my cup.
I allowed the hot cocoa to takes it’s soothing, therapeutic effect and began to feel somewhat better. I grabbed a hair-tie, from my bathroom, in order to get the blonde strands that hung in my face, into a pony tail; all while avoiding eye contact with my phone.
I walked back to the kitchen and plopped down at the small oak table, and went back into my zombie state, staring at nothing, occasionally taking a sip from my mug.
It was quite. I couldn’t hear my clock from the kitchen and the wall clock that hung above my head did not tick loud enough to draw my attention. It was now a quarter after eleven and my cocoa was now cold.
Almost instinctively, I began to countdown; five…four…three…two… Upon reaching one, I simultaneously snapped my gaze toward my phone. Silence. That trick will work for me…some day. Again I sighed in aggravation.
The voice came back. Sarah, you stupid, stupid girl.
Sitting here obviously wan’t helping me; I needed something to distract me from thinking about Jerk-Face. I glanced around and noticed that Cathy hadn’t picked up today’s mail.
Still avoiding my phone by all means, I slipped on my favorite winter coat that I bought while I did a study-abroad course in England. What I wouldn’t give to be back in England right now.
Maybe I could take an off-the-cuff trip to England? It has been years since I was there last, and I do miss it. No. I couldn’t; that would be like admitting defeat…almost like running away, and I didn’t want to give Jerk-Face the satisfaction.
Besides, I couldn’t afford such a trip; not right anyway. I still had, as the English would say, "bloody student loans" looming over my head. Whenever I would spot a pair of shoes that I had to have, I was quickly dragged back into reality…a place where I was now a responsible twenty-three year old adult; and responsibility meant bills. Rubbish!
Other thoughts of England came to mind; an England that I once knew. It was several years ago, while site seeing in Cambridge, that I realized just how much I loved photography; so when I returned home, to Salt Lake City, I immediately changed majors. I went from English Literature, to Photography.
It wasn’t too cold, considering it was February in Salt Lake City. It hadn’t snowed very much this winter, like it had the previous winter. But the snow was still fluffy and soft; perfect for snow angels, but I wouldn’t risk such a stunt, not in my favorite coat. I was delighted at the fact the cold was bearable. As much as I loved Utah, I didn’t care much for the winters.
I carefully made my way across the parking lot, careful not to slip on the residue of snow still lingering on the pavement. When it came to snow, I was overly cautious.
I rarely drove in the winter. I laughed to myself, as I remembered why I was like this. Let’s just say that it involved me, Cathy, snow and her Honda; which ended up doing several spins and facing the wrong way. Good thing no other cars were around. She has never let me drive her car since. Ha, can you blame her?
Ok, back to the mail. To help better my chances of not slipping, I instinctively began to walk pigeon-toed; a trick I remembered seeing while watching a show on Animal Planet, on polar bears. Supposedly the reason why the bears never slip on the icy tundra is because they walk pigeon-toed; a neat idea, but awkward looking and comical just the same.
The small post-office building was always open. It wasn’t really a post office, per say; it was just a small, brick building where all the mail boxes were. But Cathy and I dubbed it, “the post office”. The building usually gave me the creeps; especially on dark nights such as this one.
It was very quiet; no one else was out at this time of the night. To add to the creepy ambiance, the florescent lights above buzzed and flickered sporadically. Was I in some sort of horror movie; an unsuspecting victim to some cliché’ character in a hockey mask. Ok, think of something else, Sarah!
I laughed at myself for allowing my imagination to best me, once again. Quickly, collecting my nerves, I started toward my mailbox. Where had I put my keys; don’t tell me that I’ve forgotten them? No, I remember grabbing them…didn’t I? I quickly patted my coat pockets and heard a light jingle—phew!
I always love checking the mail—the thrill, the anticipation on what awaits you on the inside. Ha, with my luck it would be nothing but bills. I turned the key, opened the small metal door and reached inside. We definitely had mail.
Just then, something from the corner of my eye charged towards me! Time seemed to slow down, as the mail flew out of my hands and darted towards the ceiling. Upon instinct, I let out a “hiyah!”, and attempted my version of a roundhouse kick.
Good thing the poor cat, I nearly attacked, had much quicker reflexes than I. The poor thing stopped in time to dodge my fuzzy slipper; which flew off my foot and bounced off the wall. The cat scurried off somewhere to fast for me to notice; I was too busy collecting my nerves and laughing at my self. Sarah, you stupid, stupid girl.
I hopped around to collect the mail that was now scattered across the tile floor; and then I hoped to retrieve my fuzzy slipper. If I hadn’t been so shaken up and embarrassed at myself, I probably would’ve gotten the slipper first; that way I didn’t have to hop around so needlessly.
I shuffled the mail in my hands, and began sorting thru each one. Phone bill—mine; gas bill—mine; advertisement—garbage; credit card offer—garbage; weak-sauce. Since Cathy was now engaged, the bills were now in my name. Mail hardly ever came for her anymore. At least I was getting mail.
Having enough adventure for one night, I “polar bear-ed” it back to my apartment. I tossed the mail onto the counter and shimmied out of my coat. Phew, at least that got Jerk-face off my mind for awhile. Oh, here we go again, Jerk-face!
No amount of hot cocoa or pre-occupying my mind with mail or an army of cats could help me fight back the tears that were now flooding from my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. I not only was crying, I was now sobbing. I ran into my room and dove for my bed. I buried my face into my pillow, muting my uncontrollable sobs. As strong as I tried to be, I could not suppress what I needed to let out. I was just mortified by the fact that this was all over Jerk-face. The last thing I remembered was hearing that voice in my head again. Sarah, you stupid, stupid girl