Close the Door

A reminder that some people need to take with them into 2015 –  Some things you have to just leave alone.  A quick flash fiction piece written based on @1000Words writing and photo prompt, “Close the door.  I’m leaving.”

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“Close the door.”

“I’m leaving.” She paused, and looked up at me. I knew her too well. She wanted me to say something, to do something to make her stay. She had her bags in hand and had a 2-hour trek to get back home. She didn’t want to leave. But it was as if I gave her no choice. Any other weekend, I probably would have asked her to stay, but finally, it was as if I wanted her to leave. For once and for all, I was done.

“Then go”. I said, coldly. No expression, motion or movement. My eyes stayed glued to the TV screen, though I had no clue what was on it, or what was being said. I was very much there; in that moment. But I had mastered the art of acting as if I wasn’t, as if I was anywhere but there with her and her feelings.

“You’re an asshole, Jackson.” She only called me by my last name when she was pissed. When we first met, she found it so weird that the boys called me by my last name, and always made sure to call me by my first name, and various pet names that made me cringe. I changed the channel.

“You’re a piece of shit! I should have never come all the way up her to see your sorry ass. I missed my aunt’s birthday party for this shit?”

“You decided to come, eh. You knew I had games, classes, you knew I’m here for school, trying to make something of myself, not just trying to live off Mommy and Daddy like some people.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She knew what I meant, and I didn’t care to explain. I finally turned to look at her.

“Can you please just leave, Emma. I don’t know what more you want from me. I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish standing here trying to fight with me. I’m done. Pick up your pride and just go.” I turned my attention back towards the TV and changed it to another channel. Almost instantly, I felt an empty beer can hit me in the back of my head.

“Screw you, Jackson!” and finally, she left, slamming the door behind her. I smiled. The girl had good aim.

By la_farfalla_22 on Flickr

By la_farfalla_22 on Flickr

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