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My heart was pounding uncontrollably, painfully. The room began to shake around me as fire scorched my skin, causing me to sweat profusely. I backed into the wall, looking around the room for some kind of sign that I was hallucinating, and this was all in my head. Reality was not on my side. Like an earthquake of the highest magnitude, the walls pulsated, drawing me in and out with each wave. All of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. The ceiling had fallen down and landed directly onto my chest. Every time I inhaled, my lungs couldn't fill with air because the heaviness of the world bared down all of it's problems onto me. When I exhaled, nothing was released. I was clogged with the toxins of remorse. I was finally dying. After weeks of being poisoned from the lies of my past and nightmares of my present, I was finally meeting my maker.

"Ready to hit the road?" Angel burst in, interrupting my moment of self-destruction. Without that intrusion, I would have never snapped back into the production I'd called life.

Darkness temporarily gone; the show was back. Live and in action. Pretending as if everything was just fine, I admired myself in the mirror. Prior to losing it all, I'd been out all day at the salon. I'd touched up my roots, washed and conditioned, and straightened my hair. I'd gone and got a facial, massage, wax, just full on pampered. Still, I felt incomplete. It was as if something was missing, and no matter what I did, I felt empty.

"It's what's inside." Angel reading my mind, reminding me as he poked me in the belly playfully. "You look beautiful, Giselle. You just have to feel beautiful."

"I know." I sighed, finally turning off the bathroom light and exiting the room. There was so much doubt inside, desperate to be relieved. Without the slightest idea of how to begin lightening that dirty, dark feeling, I was left second guessing myself every chance I got.

There was a battle like no other going on inside of my head and my heart. I was falling madly in love with a man yet falling out of love with myself. How'd I come to college with this brilliant plan to build my future and set myself up for success, just to lose my boyfriend of 4 years, get shutout by my dad, find out my mom wasn't even my mom, meet my twin sister that I never knew I had, and a mother I didn't even know existed? I didn't even know who I was anymore. I was happy, but sad. I was excited, but unphased. I needed help. I knew that much. But how?

"You okay?"

"I don't know." I lowered my head, trying to hide the cloud hovering over me.

"Giselle, if this is too much, you don't have to come. No pressure." Angel brought my head up so that my eyes met his. So gentle. "You don't have to do this."

Placing my hand over his, wanting to cry so badly, I took in a breath. How did I deserve him? How could he love me when I felt so ugly?

"Something's wrong."

I wished I held it in. I wished I kept it all to myself and went with the flow as I had been. The worry, the concern, the panic that rose in him, made me regret opening my big mouth, drawing the unwanted attention that followed. Truth is, I was drowning in the wants and needs of everyone else. My once so put together world had crumbled right before my eyes, making me homeless, penniless, and poor. I had no savings. I'd never worked a job. I went from depending on my father to depending on Angel. I was better off dead.

I fell to the ground, onto my knees.

"Hey." Angel practically whispered. "What's going on?" On his knees with me, talking with little volume, soothing me as he rubbed up and down my arms, Angel became someone I'd never seen. A nurturer.

"I have nothing." And there it was. All the tears I'd been holding in for weeks. All the pain that riled up my deepest worries and darkest fears. It all came to light, revealing the broken girl that I truly was. Unsure of myself. Unsure of my future. Unlikely to succeed any further than I'd made it. "I am nothing!" I screamed out between the tears. "What the fuck, Angel?"

For a while, he held me in silence. I shook in his arms as I released all the tension that had been building. All the pain I'd been trying to hide ever since we'd returned from California, after Thanksgiving. There was no need to hide it anymore because the aches of betrayal had finally broken me. I hated the people that created me, resulting in me hating me. I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to be. I woke up every morning, loving on someone else because I had no more love for myself. I was dead inside.

"You're scaring me." His voice shook that time. Peering up at him, I saw he was terrified. "What did I do? I'm sorry. I just—"

"It's not you."

"No. No. Don't give me that, it's not you, it's me, bullshit. I won't stand for it. Just talk to me."

"My life is over."

"No, it's not. It hasn't even begun. What's going on, Giselle."

"I don't have a family. I don't have money. My plans are ruined. I've been so unhappy and afraid."

"Why? Because your dad took away his money? Don't worry about that part. I know the rest is painful, and you'll only heal with time and forgiveness. You have to understand that that part will take a while. But don't give up, Giselle. I'll help you. And if we're moving too fast, we can slow down. You don't have to come with me. I'll go alone and come right back. Just please." He stopped speaking, taking a deep breath, and blinking rapidly. "I can't lose you."

The sound that left the pit of my stomach made me nauseous. A whine and belch from depths of my soul. Pain. Real life pain. I ached from within. I burned from beneath the façade. I'd never hurt so much in my life. I felt like I was grieving when no one had even died.

"I can't go." I finally spoke again, closing my eyes to block out his reaction.

"Okay." Immediately, he responded with what I least expected. "Hey." Shaking me so I could open my eyes and look at him, and I did, Angel finished with, "I'm okay with that. It's fine."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad." Angel stood up, then reached down for my hand. "Get up. Come on."

I took his hand, allowing him to help me to my feet, but still, I was afraid to look him in his eyes. Afraid I'd change my mind for the sake of his feelings as I had always done. So, I looked at the floor.

"I'm not mad." He repeated.

"Okay." I whispered.

"Giselle, look at me."

"I can't." I cried. "I just can't. I can't be your girl. I can't take your money. I can't go with you. I can't live here."

"What?" Angel took a few steps back.

"I can't." Finally, I looked up with my bloodshot eyes, tears pouring out as my own heart ached.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing us both a favor. I don't want to be a burden on your life. I don't want to take you life savings."

"Fuck the money, Giselle!" He yelled out. "You think I give a fuck about money? You can have it all. I don't give a fuck!"

"Angel."

"What?" He yelled out. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I just want to figure things out on my own." I remained calm, never raising my voice or becoming defensive as he lost his mind.

"How? How the fuck are you going to do that? Without me? You going to leave me? Just say fuck us?" He was hurting. The heart that was once whole again, bandaged up by my love and support, was cracking again. And it was because of me. I was the one causing him pain, breaking him all over again.

"Stop yelling, Angel." Covering my face, I turned my back to him, trying desperately to quiet the noise. To shut off the disappointment fogging the room. "Please, just—just stop."

"Where will you go?" Finally, he was quiet again, speaking with reason.

"I don't know."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know."

"Why?"

"Because I'm fucking hurting! Because everything isn't about you! Because I have so much shit going on and I don't even love myself anymore! How the fuck else can I spell it out?" And then it was me that was the villain, yelling at the top of my lungs, shoving him into the wall and daring him to challenge me. "This has nothing to do with you. You're not the only one suffering, broken, or in pain. Imagine that you fucking idiot!" I screamed, shoving him again.

"Don't fucking push me again." He warned through clenched teeth.

"Or what? You going to hit me?"

"I'm not Aaron." He growled, peering at me devilishly from beneath his brows.

"Fuck you!"

"Did that." He grinned. There he was. The dark, angry, careless boy. My lonely boy was once again isolated, wall around his heart, protected by his anger. "So that's it? Just like that?"

"Angel."

"Fuck you!" Angel walked off, kicking the bag he once was on his way to take to his car. The one that carried all of my things. The bag that held my promises. Our new beginnings. "Fucking bitch!" He mumbled, entering the living room and knocking over the lamp and then coffee table. "You fucking bitch!" He screamed to the top of his lungs, driving his fist into the flat screen television on the wall.

And then again.

And again.

Glass shattering all over the living room. He punched the television until it was nothing but a shell, sitting up on the wall. And even then, he ripped it from the mount, tossing it to the floor.

I watched from the hall, speechlessly to blame for his anger. His hurt. I always knew I'd break his heart. I always knew I'd brighten his world just so I could reel in the darkest of clouds to overshadow the happiness he'd worked so hard to earn. I was nothing. And he deserved everything. So much more. So much better. And who was I except no one at all? He deserved love and compassion. Not a broken girl who'd just been stripped down to nothing.                

****Author's Words****

So much for new beginnings. Is it over?

Will this be the official end to something hardly ever started?

More of Angel's P.O.V. 4/21

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