Breakups and New Beginnings

Pages drift, zig-zagging in slow motion around me. Some of them are blackened by the sun rays behind them, others are bathed in a beautiful, pale yellow hue. Then, I notice some sparks taking flight before me.

Two sources of light provoke the view in front of me. The first one and most obvious is the sun. The other one is the fire in my trash can.

I was too lazy to bring trash bags, so I decided to use the metallic bin I had in my soon-to-be abandoned bedroom to start a small, controlled fire to burn useless paperwork from university—small and controlled being the keywords.

We live in Thunder Bay in the True North, that is Canada. But we are moving to Toronto now, and burning stuff seemed like the fastest and most eco-friendly option when my dad started rushing me.

At least, five minutes ago.

That was until I started adding some other stuff, like my mum's copy of Pride and Prejudice. But then, I regretted it and I took it out before any real damage could be done. I set the book on the bed, then threw my future, ex-boyfriend's favorite t-shirt into it. No regrets there, in fact, I pressed it downwards with the stick of the broom, making sure it would catch fire soon.

Of course, I didn't expect Jason to burst the door open while I was doing that. That's how I got here.

Uh-oh.

"YOU PSYCHO!" he shouts when his eyes take in my actions. He, now, inserts his hand in my burning cauldron and tries to save his River Plate T-shirt. I wish he had tried that hard to save our relationship.

"This meant something to me!" He starts shaking the shirt off, trying to put out the fire, but it is a lost cause.

He throws it into the can again, his arms akimbo and defeat clear in his dark gaze. His eyes stare blankly at a random spot before him until he blinks out of his short trance.

My eyes follow the direction of his eyes, but he is already stretching his hand to grab my mum's copy of Pride and Prejudice.

I see it happening before it actually happens. He grabs the book and starts pulling out bunches of pages and they start floating around me. He doesn't stop until the whole book is gone. A shower of Austen's pages hovers around us as he starts talking.

"I'm so done with you, Sunset! Short distance didn't work for us, much less long-distance." He keeps tearing apart my book, and I remain stone-still admiring the beautiful sight of my mom's highlighted pages showering around me.

I will myself to say something, even when I am as defeated as he is regarding our relationship. "We could have tried, you know? If you would have waited for me..." I trail off, my eyes still distracted by the way the light from the fire, and the light from the sun alter the color of the pages falling around me.

"You are mental." His words come out as staccatos, each of them clutching at my heart.

I gulp. "I read this book once about-"

"No, enough," he interjects, his hand making a stop gesture. "I've had enough of that shit. I'm not one of your stupid book boyfriends, Sunset. I'm real."

"I just like their stories, Jason," I mumble, my eyes drifting to the floor as one of the loose pages catches my attention.

Is it the first or the second proposal?

"Believe me, I get it. Your mum wrote really amazing books, but this is real life, and you are definitely not girlfriend material."

Well that hurt, finally. I squint my eyes. "Excuse me? Girlfriend material?"

He goes on ranting now. "You don't want to go out with me, you don't come to our parties, my friends believe you are fictional, like, non-existent. You're always wearing those yoga pants." He scoffs loudly. "Why would I want to show you off anyway? We didn't even have sex...We did other stuff, but, how do you expect me to...even survive? And I'm just having this conversation with you because your brother forced me to, so please, just let things be for once in your life."

I can't believe my brother made him do this.

Wow.

"My mom died." I offer as if I would actually need an explanation for not wanting to have sex with him.

"Eight freaking months ago!" he exclaims, placing his hands on either side of his head. I step back at the impact of his words. I feel my cheeks burning and tears welling up in my eyes.

The fire in the trash can continues growing between us, while the carpet is covered in my mum's highlighted words from Pride and Prejudice.

"You cheated on me—repeatedly, so no need to give so many explanations. I'm more than fine with this," my voice strained with anguish.

"What did you expect me to do? I have needs, you know? I am not Mr. Effing Dancy."

"It's Mr. Darcy, actually." I arch my eyebrows, feeling offended that he never got his name right.

"For crying out loud, Sunset!" he shouts, startling me.

My feet step back, the walls of my throat shrink, and a cold sweat breaks at the nape of my neck.

He sighs, rubbing his temples with both of his hands, and strides toward me. His chest heaves up and down, his wild eyes right before mine. I step further back until my back presses against the wall behind me. Gulping, I stare up at him as he towers high in front of me.

His eyes flicker to my lips. "The worst part is that I really want to kiss you now," he slurs, biting his lower lip.

Me, well, I feel disgusted but mostly scared, really scared.

I honestly don't remember the version of myself that agreed to be his girlfriend. It was before my mom's death. It was a very different version of who I am today.

"Please, Jason, leave." My words are barely audible as I cast my eyes down to the way his hand just sneaked under my Stranger Things t-shirt.

"We could've a proper goodbye," he suggests, placing a kiss to the side of my neck.

"Get out," I insist a bit louder, my head turning away from his.

When he doesn't budge, I briskly shove him off towards the door. He barely moves a step away, but then he returns to me, his eyes blazing with madness. He pins me against the wall, his hands clutching around my high waist, and his mouth crashing against my tightly pressed lips.

"Out," I mumble with his lips still on mine, and my ribs hurting from his forceful grasp.

I may be a geek, nerd, deeply depressed, and traumatized girl, but I won't let this happen. My knee lifts, impacting against his groin. He groans, falling on the floor in a fetal position. He whines, and turns to one side and the other, knocking down the trash can. The fire spreads quickly to the pages littering the floor, and around Jason.

The door opens bluntly and my brother Raiden bursts in. His eyes go big as he contemplates the scene before him. My knees are on the floor, grabbing the trash can on fire and putting the kindled pages back in. Jason is still grunting on the floor and around him, Pride and Prejudice pages starting to catch fire.

"What the hell is going on?" Raiden hisses, closing the door behind him. Then, he starts putting down the fire by stomping his sneakers against the lit papers scattered around.

"I thought you came in here to save me, brother," I state, arching an eyebrow at him while I frenetically palm more pages to save them from the fire.

"Sister, I don't think you are the one who needs to be saved here." He hunches next to Jason. The fire is under control, but the smoke makes the fire alarm go on and the waterworks begin.

Oh no... My dad is going to appear here any minute.

"But this guy here...I think he might need some saving on my behalf."

I smile tightly and place the stack of pages of Pride and Prejudice under my jacket so that they don't get wet.

Raiden pulls Jason up gathering his t-shirt in his right fist. "She burnt my River Plate shirt, Raiden!" Jason whines like a baby as he picks him up and starts dragging him towards the door.

At that moment, my father appears by the door. Just in time.

"What's going on?" His eyes pop out of his skull.

Dawn, my obnoxious 14-year-old sister also joins the scene, just in time to witness the situation.

Raiden drags Jason out of my room, and she shakes her head in disapproval. "There goes another friend I lose." He exhales heavily.

"I-" I can't think of any excuses.

Glowring at me, Raiden demands,. From now on, you won't date my friends. I had enough of this."

He kind of has a point. Sometimes, I hate what I have become.

"What happened to Jason?" my dad asks when he should be asking what happened to me. Ugh. Making the wrong questions is so easy.

"Someday someone is going to press charges for this kind of attitude you have Sunset!" he warns me, grasping the bridge of his nose. "Clean up everything. We're leaving in an hour."

My sister imitates my father's speech from behind him, making gestures, and I try to suppress a smile.

We both know my dad can't kill a fly. It's simply hilarious whenever he tries to go all mad and strict around us.

"Okay. So..." he trails off, a smile creeping up his face. "New town? New life? New friends? Who's ready?" My dad puts his hand up, his fingers up in a high-five gesture. 

Grumbling, I shut the door in his face.

Ugh! I hate new beginnings.