Tears. A Short Story.

Anna did not want to close her eyes. Every part of her was exhausted but her mind was running from sleep. Her eyes began to droop. The image seemed to be projected on the back of her eyelids. In one swift move, her eyes burst open as she tore herself from under the sheets. The next thing she knew she was standing next to her bed holding her chest trying not to hyperventilate.

It had been three days since her last restful sleep. For three days, she'd felt like her world was crumbling around her. Her body was dehydrated and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. Anna had cried hours upon end. She slowly began to pace the cool hardwood floor in her bedroom. The small crack between the window and the window sill yielded a low whistling noise that fluctuated with the wind gusts. Her right hand nervously found her mouth. She hooked her left hand under her right elbow as her tongue tracked over each finger searching for a bit of a nail to chew. Anna dropped her arms as she realized that she had already chewed all of her fingernails off. She walked to the window and looked out. The rain had started three days ago. It was lucky for her that they had cancelled her college courses due to flooding. She'd felt so alone for the past three days. She had not even told any of her friends that she was back from Christmas break. What was she going to do? Her eyes began to fill with tears. She wondered if she'd ever stop crying.

Anna walked back to her bed and sat down. She slid her feet into her fuzzy slippers and reached for a tissue on the nightstand.

It wasn't her fault. Had she just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Is that actually possible? Maybe she had been there for a reason. Maybe it had all happened for a reason. That's bullshit. What reason is there to justify it? There is no reason. It's not her fault. That bastard.

Anna put her hand on her gurgling stomach. Her body firmly believed that the two and a half saltine crackers were not enough. She did not want to eat. She had no appetite. As the flashbacks became more and more vivid, she had less and less of a desire to do anything at all. She wanted to sleep but the images tormented her. They were just flashes. Mere glimpses of what happened. She did not want to remember it in its entirety. The thought made her rub her wrists. His hands had been clammy. He seemed to be nervous but determined. She could hardly breath with the weight of his body smothering her. All of a sudden, Anna felt nauseated.

She got up and ran to the bathroom. The tile on the floor was cold on her knees. She threw her arms around the toilet. Her body convulsed. There was nothing for her to throw up. She pushed herself away and curled her body up in the fetal position on the rug.

What would her parents say? What would her friends think of her? What about her boyfriend? Would he still love her? She had been saving herself for him. But now.... She knew she couldn't tell them. She couldn't tell anyone. They wouldn't understand. The tears streamed down her cheeks. She could no longer control them. She had to embrace the tears. Embrace the pain. The fear. They were all part of her now. She sniffled and tucked her hands under her head. She envisioned being back home and gazing across the land as the wind licked the tops of the wheat stalks.

And somewhere, lost in happier thoughts, Anna found sleep.