Novel & Cerita Crying Shoulder

A woman sat at the receptionist counter with her shoulders hunched which could cause a sharp pain to her shoulders, but it's obvious that she did not care at the moment. She had her head bowed, sobbing silently. Her tears fell onto the countertop, leaving little wet spots in their wake. Laura, the receptionist, watched her with pitiful eyes as she was moved with concern.

“It's all my fault. Everything that happened to you is my fault; I should be the one dead. I'll never be happy, I promise to never be happy.” Tears kept streaming down my face, a quiet, soundless waterfall of sorrow. My body shook slightly, but my mouth was clamped shut, stifling any audible sobs. I cried silently, hiding my pain from the world, as if afraid to let others see the depth of my emotions. Each tear that fell was a testament to the weight I carried, a physical manifestation of the grief, hurt, or frustration that had become too much to bear. My eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, were the only giveaway, a window to the storm raging within.

“You shouldn't be crying “. She started. I shifted. I shifted my shoulders, her hands fell off. She hesitated for a minute before she spoke again, her hand resting steady on the chair handle. “Florence you shouldn't be crying, please don't hurt yourself”. She whispered, rubbing my shoulders gently for the second time. “Ler me cry”. I replied hoarsely" Let me pour it all our”. I sobbed, I couldn't contain the tears anymore. For a moment, she was quiet, for a moment she said nothing but allowed me to bask in my pain, all she did was rub my back gently.

Trying not to make eye contact with anyone I was slowly making my way through the halls towards the washroom. Focussed on not losing my balance I didn't realise I was going to crash with someone. A broad chest came into my few but it was too late. I had already crashed into it. My vision got dizzy for a second but it soon returned to normal. My exhausted body was on brink of shutting down but I just couldn't let it. My eyes landed on the eyes of the person who held my shoulders to steady me. Making me cry in pain from inside. The dislocated shoulder hurts like hell.

But I have not been that lucky since birth. Alpha Cougar grabbed my left hand tightly into his hand. While with the other hand, he grabbed my shoulder. I heard a loud crack and my shoulder was put back in its place. Alpha Cougar was staring at me with a confused look on his face. He was expecting to hear me scream in pain as he had already seen tears in my eyes. He just couldn't know the reason why I was in pain.

It broke out anyway. Not a clean sob. A torn one. A humiliating one. The sound of a man finally running out of lies to stand on. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried. Really cried. The kind that hurt the ribs and twisted the face and made breathing come in ruined pulls. My shoulders shook against the mattress. Wet heat ran over my nose, my mouth, into the pillow. I turned more tightly into myself, curling around the ache as if I could make my body small enough to survive it.

I collapsed forward, forehead pressing against the steering wheel. And I cried. Not quiet, dignified crying. No. The ugly type. The raw type. The kind you only do when you've finally run out of ways to keep yourself together. My shoulders were shaking. My breath kept catching like my lungs didn't know how to work anymore. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, and before I could wipe them away, snot joined in—thick, embarrassing, pouring out because my whole body had given up trying to look composed. I wiped my nose with my sleeve, promptly regretting it when it just smeared out everywhere. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but even that came out in gasps.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, still enduring the pain. My grandmother approached me with clear concern on her face. "What's wrong? You look deathly pale," When everyone left, I slumped forward on my right side. “My shoulder hurts,” I said, hissing. My grandmother followed behind me and loosened the clothes on my shoulders, she lowered it enough for her to see whatever was going on, and she called my grandfather to come. They both became silent. "What is up?" I ask. Turning my head, I saw my grandparents' pale faces. "What?" I stressed the fact that.

I want to be okay so bad but I can't help but not be. At once I felt a firm grasp on my shoulders as George whirled me over to face him. He stared deeply into my eyes while his hands were on my shoulders. “Why are you crying?” He inquired, his voice squirming with concern. The tears I was trying to control began strolling down my cheeks.