Nothing Goes Over My Head Novels & Stories

My head felt heavy. "Nobody touches what's mine" he roars and in the next second, I feel unbearable pain in my neck. I couldn't take it anymore and I blacked out.

I shake my head; I don’t think there is anything that anyone could say to make me feel anything other than disgust with myself. “Thanks for trying Cal bu-“ “OH, STUFF IT! BUT NOTHING! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ARSE AND FU.CKING DEAL WITH THE HAND YOU HAVE BEEN DEALT!” I raise my head, brows furrowed, it’s not often Cal raises his voice, and certainly not at me.

Passing by the bar, the bartender's voice drifted to me over the music and murmurs. "I warn them," he said casually still polishing a glass, eyes flicking toward the back booth, "but they never listen." I didn't stop. I just nodded vaguely, cheeks burning up, as I slipped out into the night... Never listen. Yeah, that's me. Always diving headfirst without thinking things through.

I muttered under my breath, almost laughing at how pathetic it sounded. I straightened, rolling my shoulders back, forcing the weight off my chest. This is nothing. It’s just a party. Just noise and people. I shook my head once, sharply—like that might scatter the thoughts across the floor and stomp them out.

Golfe say. I scream more and I scream harder, but they turn back to their conversation. My head falls as tears fill my eyes. Why can no one hear me scream?

Head bowed, eyes dark. “I can't do this anymore.”

The rest of his words drowned away and my mind made a decision on that spot. “You know what? Yes, maybe i am making all of this up.” I said calmly and licked my buttom lips. I blinkked back the tears and straigthened my back. “Violet-” “No, you’re right. I’m just overthinking things, i am the one whose stressed nad freaking out over nothing. I am the one who is making a mountain out of a mole hill, it’s probably because of my headache.” “I thougth so, it’s not like you to say such things.”

I hate being me sometimes. “You always overthink everything. Maybe for once in your life, just stop. Look at this in a more basic way. Who can you not live without? Who do you fantasize about?” Nate leans back against the window and cradles his beer, looking down to the side and the girls for a moment as I stare at him. He watches them intensely and smiles my way when I take too long to respond.

"A few months ago, when I had a fever of over 100 degrees Fahrenheit and didn't even have the strength to pour myself a cup of water, you came home, threw a blanket over me, and went to sleep. That's just a trivial matter, huh? "On our wedding anniversary, I made a special dinner for us and waited up all night for you. Not only did you forget what day it was, but you also just left me alone at home while you carried on working. That's also just a trivial matter, right? "And just a few days ago, when I collapsed on the side of the road with a bleeding stomach, I fought through the pain to call you for help, but you were busy discussing your investments with your first love, and my call went u

I wasn’t sad, I continued to tell myself. That was the strange part. I wasn’t overjoyed either. But there was a sense of freedom. Like I’d clawed my way out of a crab hole I hadn’t even realized I was buried in. I tilted my head and whispered it aloud, just to hear it in the room, “It’s over.” No audience. No applause. Just the echo of those two words bouncing around a messy bathroom.