I sat in the back seat of my parents van and began to picture my characters and their story in my head. It was all i could do to stay calm, to force the tears away. I pictured Drake sitting at the dinner table, drinking tea. He was reading, A Study in Scarlet, one of his favorites. He would lick his lips every time he took a sip and his brows would pull in as he read.
When he would swallow his adam's apple would rise and fall. He would stop and look out the large window to the street, watch the leaves fall, the branches sway in the cold, unusual Miami wind. His dark blue shirt melted in with his russet skin, one hand clutching his book, the other his mug. His gray eyes flickered from the street, to the trees, to the pages of his book.
My heart swelled at the sight of him. I knew he was trying to ease my pain away and I clutched onto my glass vial necklace--the one with a special message inside, a secret message meant for him and I only. The hole inside me was still threatening to grow but slowly it filled. I felt myself healing as I held on to him.
Then I pictured him looking at me, smiling. His eyes curving at their edges. His cheeks burning a subtle red. Not once did he tear his gaze away and I allowed myself to look in his eyes.
I saw his goodness.
I saw that he was broken as well and that he needed me, too. It was comforting knowing I needed him and he needed me. It was as if we were a puzzle, each of us contained the pieces in order to stay complete, whole.
I pictured him the entire way home. I barely opened my eyes, for if I did, he would leave. As we pulled in to our driveway I knew I would have to let go, watch him vanish.
He nodded his head for me to go and I could see the promise in his storm filled eyes. Tiny sparks flickered within me and I felt the fire start to burn, sending a welcoming heat through my arms, hands, and chest.
My eyes opened and I walked quickly toward the front door. My hands fidgeted in my pockets, impatiently waiting for my dad to open the door.
I headed straight for the quiet, peaceful sanctuary of my room. I pulled out my laptop and just wrote. I wrote to keep the image fresh. I wrote to fight the pain away. I wrote for my brother. I wrote for Drake. I wrote for myself.
I was okay, Drake kept' his promise.
Bloggers, have your characters ever saved you emotionally? Were they there when you cried for help?
The only thing that makes any sense right now is you - Amber