they call her out by her name : josie hutton

[chasing sunday]

Josie was slipping.

Last night, she did not go to church. Instead, she bar-hopped the night away. Something very unlike her. But she decided that she wanted to be anyone, anyone but herself.

There was too much liquor. Way too much.

Most of her day, today, had been slept away--and through the hangover she thought about everything that'd been going on.

Hints were dropped to Saint, subtle--just enough to have him wondering, just enough to keep him curious. Their conversation at the cafe had been brief, she only wanted him to know that John had left--that maybe he was right about him--how John liked to hurt people. And after she dropped off little hints, she simply left.

He wasn't a bad guy--just like Roo had told her. She knew there was always tension with everyone else--especially involving Saint--and oh, she knew why, but--then, there were still a few questions. A few. But, she'd let them all go for now.

Josie needed a break. She decided to lay somewhat low for a while--maybe have a few nights on the town here or there. It couldn't hurt. Could it?

[chasing sunday]

She couldn't tell you exactly why Roo had snapped. She couldn't tell you, either, why they ended up tangled in a fight (and no doubt, Roo had the upper hand). Unless it was the simple fact that Josie screamed out that she hated John, and maybe, just maybe that was a lie in itself. She was still hurt, upset, shocked that John walked out on her.

Forget the fact that he called her a prostitute today--or was it whore? Same matter. Then turned around and asked to talk to her later. She felt like she was the center piece for some game and she was growing sick of it.

Saint said that John had told him things, hurtful things--things that she wasn't sure if she should believe (given the comment from John earlier, she was beginning to think those things might be true).

She was growing tired of it all.

No, she was just growing tired.

Tonight, she was cracked and broken--twisted up in emotions that left her thoughts tilting toward things that she'd never imagined herself thinking before.

She wanted out.

She was almost determined to do anything to get out.

[chasing sunday]

Unreal how everything had grown so eerily quiet. For the longest, Josie struggled to grow used to the chaos that surrounded her life daily--now, it was as if a storm had passed and nothing but serene calm was left in the wake.

There were still pieces to pick up in the path of destruction, however. John left her a while ago, but she still felt the painful sting sometimes pulse through her heart. He was her true first crush and those were never easy to get over and she wondered if she ever would, at all.

There had been brief glimpses of Andy, jokes of marriage that they both knew would never fall through.

Aaron was the one that kept her smiling best. She couldn't think of a time that she'd ever seen him in a foul mood. Yet, she could say that about Andy, too.

For a while, she laid low--trapped herself up within the walls of her apartment. Hers. She'd moved from John's after the lease was up, it was too impossible to stay there with so many memories dripping in the air: if it wasn't something she swore she saw, it was something she tasted--if it wasn't something she tasted, it was the scent of him that swelled up out of nowhere like a ghost had passed through the room.

She returned to church services on a regular basis; once on Wednesday, twice on Sunday, but she wasn't nearly as active as before. She didn't offer her help in cleaning so much. Or anything else, for that matter.

Josie was very much alive although as days passed, she was feeling something dead and empty weigh down her heart, fill up her belly. In the secrecy and privacy of her room, she'd pray for help, for something to soothe her, for her faith to be restored to what it had been. But to her dismay, she feared that everything had gone unheard, or ignored. Day by day she was feeling worse, day by day she was feeling two steps closer to cracking.

[chasing sunday]

Journal Entry:


I can't take this anymore. Don't they see?
Don't they know? Don't they have a clue?
Who? It doesn't matter now. It really doesn't.
I'm about to try to prove them wrong.
All of them. No one has control of my life.
No one. I'm sick of this. I'm sick. Sicksick.

I don't know why I'm so upset, anyway. It isn't as if I see John on a daily basis. It isn't as if we're still together. It's not like I'm constantly having them breathing down my neck, telling me what to do or where to go. I hardly see them anymore. Then, what's the problem?

Maybe that's the problem. I don't like to admit to being lonely. For the longest, it was what I wanted, after all. I wanted to be alone. But, now it's mother. She won't shut up. She won't leave me alone. I want away from her. I want to go back home. I want John to be the way he used to be. I even want to see Andy.

I'm tired of wanting. I'm tired of living. I'm simply tired. I think I'll really try to sleep now.

<font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ January 19, 2006 05:20 PM: Message edited by: sunday phantom ]</font>

[chasing sunday]

It didn't hurt. Not really. The sight of the blood was more shocking than the pain she felt and by the time it splattered her clothes and got in her hair from where she panicked and snagged a fist full of wheat blond, she broke down to call the very person she shouldn't have. Sobbing, and hysterical, she called Sandra.

"Mom. Mom. I'm dying. I'm scared. I did it and I didn't mean to. I don't know what to do, mom. Mom? I'm getting dizzy. Everything is spinning ohGod I can't breathe."

Everything went quiet. Everything was dark, but there was a light breaking somewhere--a round little light that grew to blinding proportions. Somewhere around it, or perhaps coming from it (Josie couldn't tell), there was a voice. The words she couldn't make out and in an instant pain slammed her back to reality; wide awake and choking on her breaths while trying to scream. It was that quick, it felt, but she was already in a hospital, in an emergency room. There were people all around her. Too many voices. Too many words. Too much..

It was that along with something to calm her that pulled her into a deep sleep. She didn't see the light this time, but she did dream. She didn't hear the same voice, which she'd later recall as a man's, but she did hear others. There were faces this time but what she focused on was the shadowed body that stood behind them. Again, a man. And again, Josie didn't see his face. Just black. Just pitch dark that made up the man's shape. He was tall and lean. And there was smoke seeping up from his hand. A cigarette? It was her only guess.

Later on, she'd awaken in her room with her mother sitting near the bed. Her arms were bandaged and she studied them with a sick sort of interest that turned rapidly into amusement.

Josie looked up at her mother, her dark eyes quickly fading from something amused to something sad. She drew in a breath, and spoke in a low, dead tone.

"They were right, Mother. It wouldn't work."

Sandra looked up from the magazine sprawled along her lap, studied her daughter with eyes that weren't so warm. They never were. "And it probably never will." She paused, leaned forward to take her daughter's hand in a grasp that nearly soothed Josie; nearly. "I think, perhaps, we should go away for a while, Josie. You're sick. Your father has no idea that this happened yet, but I am about to call him. Although, I think you should tell him what you've done. Then, I will make the arrangements for a visit. I think it will do us both some good. More importantly, you." Sandra left no room for argument. She fluffed Josie's pillow and stepped out of the room, only after handing Josie the phone.

Josie hesitated, but eventually dialed the number, not without tears in her eyes, not without her throat suddenly feeling raw and scratchy. Guilt lay heavily on her shoulders, weighed her down.

"Dad? Hi, Dad, it's me. It's Josie. I have something to tell you.."

<font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ January 19, 2006 05:20 PM: Message edited by: sunday phantom ]</font>