Dreamer (Currently Being Revised)

"Tell me."

You looked up, a noodle just peeking out of your lips from where you stopped slurping it up when you heard his voice.

He looked at you seriously, knowing that you hadn't exactly heard him.

"Tell me what happened between you two."

You looked back down, shame at how foolish you'd been filling your heart. Memories threatened to slip out from your eyes and make their ways down your cheeks.

"Why should it matter?"

"(Y/N)." His voice had a warning hilt to it and his gaze hardened.

"What? It's in the past. He's behind me now..."

"No he's not! You say that, but you still let him affect you. You say he's behind you, but he isn't. Not really. He's still in that room and we're still here in the hospital cafeteria for crying out loud when there is a restaurant and even a fast food joint next door. Something is keeping you here and don't you dare tell me it's the food."

You didn't know what to do. Telling him the whole story would be too painful, too recent. It'd tear you apart all over again. Your vase was breaking yet again, piece by piece falling back off of what you'd built up.

"He abused me!" you finally cried, angry tears spilling down your cheeks as the memories flew through your mind like a recap real. "He never touched me except for grabbing me and pulling me back, but his words cut deeper than any knife. He tore me down and kicked me to the side like some mangy mutt! Is that what you wanted to hear Mark? Are you happy now?!"

You stood and backed up from the table and his stoic expression. That's what upset you the most. He didn't seem to care anymore. He showed nothing but the same serious expression and it destroyed the last thin film of control you had.

You turned and ran out of the room, escaping down the halls and finally out of the door. You frantically looked around.

To the right there was a romantic looking koi pond with a little bench over looking it. Too obvious and cliche.

Straight ahead was the parking lot. Too many fumes and the stink of freshly laid road. Mark's car? You wanted nothing to do with him.

Behind you was the hospital and you weren't going back into there.

"Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright?"

It was a feminine voice, quite the opposite to Mark's voice, but you didn't care. Before a sob could escape your lips once more,  you were gone, streaking to the right and around the building.

It was times like this you were grateful for tennis shoes and a fast metabolism. They seemed to be the only things you could rely on.