Writing for Fun
March 2016
Rock Bottom - Maureen Rampersaud
Celia tried to blink back the tears and get through the lecture, but she couldn't focus on the tutor and what he was saying. All she could hear was her inner voice saying, 'Josh doesn't love you anymore.' It was as if her mind was deliberately torturing her, not allowing her to pretend or use diversionary tactics to survive. It was forcing her to confront this situation which was unbearably painful.
They had met through a friend of a friend when they were fifteen. She knew he was the one straight away, tall, blue eyes, black hair. She played it cool, but she made sure she was wherever he was. They had gone out ever since and although he hadn't asked her to marry him, they talked a lot about 'together, forever'. She imagined what their children would look like and mapped out their future together. How secure she felt . . . being loved.
They were twenty now and she felt like he had cut the anchor line so she was being battered in a stormy sea. He told her he didn't love her anymore.
Celia left the lecture promptly, vaguely aware of one or two people asking if she was alright. She didn't acknowledge them. Her pain was all there was. She walked back to her bedsit the long way, across the fields, she couldn't face seeing anyone. The river was swollen with too much rain, it was running faster than she'd ever seen it before. She stopped, fascinated, sat on the bank and thought.
She was alone. There was no more 'Josh and Celia'. No-one loved her. What meaning was there to her life now? What would the water feel like if she entered it and floated to oblivion?
It was dark. She heard voices.
'Celia! What are you doing here all by yourself?'
'We were worried. We've been looking for you for hours.'
She looked round to see Sarah and Becky. Celia started to sob as the girls encircled her with their arms.