The neighbor

An endless stream of tears bombarded my already scarlet cheeks, slowly creeping down my neck and accumulating on my charcoal shirt to expose a darker shade. The fragile hands of my seventeen-year-old body trembled from the reminders. Every inch of my lifeless form screamed as I failed to release the tension that only worsened throughout the night. The scene from the passenger seat of his silver Acura re-winded and replayed as I kept reliving the horror while continually choking on tears and gasping for air. The atmosphere felt so dense that I found it hard to believe there was any oxygen left; even if there was, I didn't want it. My pulse echoed throughout my extremities carrying with it a heavy heat so thick that my digits became clammy. I felt every ounce of loss weighing down on my wrangled heart making me wish for only one last beat. Loss of not only a soul tie, but a severed relationship with the only person I could tell anything, who knew the darkest parts of my soul. An hour of complete agony passed until I grew so weak that my breathing shallowed to a meager whisper. On the contrary, my lungs howled for moisture that had been stolen by my tears. Losing grip, I slid further down the wall of the bathtub until I lay there, alone and silent, in fetal position, with him doing the same thing two hundred and seventy-five yards away.
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