24,700 / 45,000
Insane. I've written quickly before, but not this quickly. It's been almost two years since i've poured out a book like this, and even then, i think the record was 19K in a week.
Too bad its slowing down, now. I may actually have to start reading through things to figure out where the new scenes need to go.
But yay, its actually Tuesday, which means I'm putting another teaser out there......
I don’t know what to say to him during these conversations. I’ve said every version of everything I can think of. It used to be that just talking to me was enough. His mood would shift a soon as I answered the phone.
But more and more, I have to talk him into it. More and more, I have to be clever and smart and I have to lead him down the path to get him to see it.
But today, even that is not working. Today he is unreachable.
“I want to walk to the bridge,” he says.
There is no threat in his voice. Just a promise. Just reality.
“Don’t do this, please.”
“I have nothing, Ann. You don’t understand.”
“Just don’t do this,” I repeat. “You have so much. You know you do.”
He sniffles. I know he is crying. Even though there are times he seems whole, the cracks still show. And today they are spreading and splintering, and today he may crumble.
“If I come over, will you wait for me?”
The silence is deafening. I think I may have lost him already.
“Yes. I will wait for you.”
“Be there in ten.”
And I hang up before he can argue, before he can change his mind. I find yesterday’s clothes and pull them on, and take my time opening my door. My mom’s bedroom is on the opposite end of the hall. I can hear her snore.
She has no idea.
I slip down the stairs and write a note on the notepad on the fridge. “Went to school early. Cramming for Lit class.”
I know my mom will get up at six thirty. I know it doesn’t make sense that I’d be gone by then to go cram for a class, but I don’t care.
And I know that she will know. But she can’t prove it, and she won’t try.
Our driveway is sloped, so I let out the e-brake and my car glides backwards into the street. And then I start it up and drive away.
My car is silent. I don’t touch the radio or the heat, I just shiver in the quiet.
When I arrive at his house the front door is unlocked, and I slip back to his room.
He is laying in his bed, the radio playing a haunting piano melody.
I slide into his bed and he turns to me, and he wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my hair.
We don’t speak. We just fall asleep.
And tomorrow he will forget all of this. Tommorrow he will be himself again.
But there will be more of these nights. And I don’ t know how long I can keep this up.