Tears In My Pillow 소설 & 이야기

I threw myself on the bed, tears running down my eyes and staining my pillow as I wailed loudly, like a fucking baby. I was tired. So fucking tired of everything.

CARLY WOODS POV Laying in the comfort of my bed, I pulled the warm covers over my face as I stared into the bright sky with an ample amount of stars scattered around the night sky through the open window. The moon shined brightly like headlights on the interstate, a direct opposite of the gloomy and dejected state I was stuck in, silent tears soaking into my pillow. I was in my fluffy maroon PJs, my hair sprawling lazily across my purple pillow that was steadily drinking in my painful tears, as I hugged my knee trying to comfort myself enough at how the last forty-eight hours of my life turned out.

Ever. When I got tired, I collapsed on my bed and let myself release the tears, anger, and pain that I was feeling. I buried my head on my pillow and let myself be consumed by my own emotions. On that day, the four corners of my room and my pillow witnessed how I let myself cry... On that day, the four corners of my room and my pillow witnessed my silent cries. My pillow also witnessed how many tears I shed.

I whispered to them, but I didn’t really believe it. When I woke up the next morning, my pillow was wet from my tears.

A tear rolls down my cheek. I look in the mirror across the room and lift the vile to my cheek to catch the rolling tear. Another tear follows it and the drops accumulate in the base of the vile. I laugh softly to myself for doing something so stupid. I close the vile and lay down on my pillow. I tilt the vile from side to side, letting the droplet of tears run from the bottom to the top and then back down again.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe that's it. Disgust.” I hugged the pillow for a second, and the smell of soap and sweat hit me. The room spun. A chill ran down my spine, and for a moment, I wanted to cry. But the tears wouldn't come. Just that warm emptiness, burning inside without going out. I got up. I threw the pillow back on the bed. I opened the old suitcase in the corner of the room. The zipper got stuck, and I forced it until it tore.

The room is empty, and I'm left alone with my silent tears. I hold his picture to my chest, curling up on the bed. The tears that have become my constant companions roll silently down my temples, a testament to the ache of missing him. Each tear carries with it the weight of my love and longing, a reminder that even in his absence, Mick's presence is never truly gone. ... "Abby, my child. Why are you sleeping without a pillow?" My dad's gentle voice rouses me from my unplanned slumber. When did I drift off into sleep?

I'm in tears! I reach out to wipe my eyes in my sleep. I've been like this almost throughout the night. Waking up with tears in my eyes but I try not to wake Fabrico on the other side of the bed. He looks tired and worn out and I'll hate to disturb his sleep.

**Chapter 58** **Tears and Temporary Change** The first light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains of the guest room, casting pale gold across the rumpled sheets. I lay still, my body heavy with exhaustion, my eyes swollen from the tears I had finally released the night before. Sleep had come in fragments—restless dreams of empty penthouses and Natasha’s sharp smile cutting through every frame. When I stirred, the weight of an arm around my waist anchored me back to reality.

Deciding to call it a night I switch my phone off and change into my depressing PJs. The ones my family and friends know when I wear these something is wrong, and they rarely ask what. Feeling the tears starting to free fall down my face I climb on into bed and cry into my pillow until I fall asleep. This must be one of the shitiest night's sleep ever. I must have only slept for two hours as I spent most of the night crying.