Summer Reads Countdown with @lovingthebook
Day 17 Breathe In by @MichelleBellon
Michelle Bellon lives in the Pacific Northwest with her four quirky and
beautiful children. She loves coffee, Superman, rollercoasters, and has an
addiction to chapstick.
She works as a registered nurse and in her spare time writes novels. As a
multi-genre author, she has written in the categories of romance suspense,
young adult, women’s fiction, and literary fiction. She has won four literary
heart shattering to pieces. If she could find her voice, she’d scream.
to a bed, a camera set up to capture her dying moment. And the person who paid
to watch her die…is still out there somewhere.
the killer. Not until they strike again…in the place Tessa is least expecting,
and where it hurts worst.
point,” Terin says. “It’s time you started sticking up for yourself. So, back
to the Tom thing…you’re over him then? You’re doing okay?”
ceiling fan overhead. Mostly shadows in the dark room, its blades are still and
my clock light reflects off it oddly in the center so that it almost appears to
have eyes. It looks like a starfish clinging to my roof.
miserable and praying he’ll call me? I don’t even know why. Like she said, he’d
told me he couldn’t see me anymore. Not that he didn’t want to
see me. Just that he couldn’t. That thought makes me sick to my stomach. How
could I want a man who no longer wants me? I bet Gerald would be more than
happy if I called him tonight. Ugh, I’m such a stupid girl sometimes.
me. I’ll be fine. I, uh…”
Without thinking, I pull the phone from my ear to take a peek. It’s Tom. My
heart thuds against my ribcage. Hit the text. Read it silently, holding my
breath while my friend rambles on.
to me. Tears well up and I feel like I might choke on them. Swallow down the
shame. Terin was right about him. I never meant anything to him. I’m probably
one of many. Insignificant. I place the phone to my ear and listen to the last
bit of whatever Terin prattles on about. I can’t focus. When she pauses, I take
the chance to escape. “Hey, I hate to cut it short, but my stomach is killing
me. I think I might have eaten something bad. Do you mind if we hang up for the
feeling so good. Hope you’re not on the toilet all night long. Remember that
time I ate the bad clam chowder and nearly died from projectile diarrhea?”
Just call me in the morning to let me know you’re alive.”
goodnight, hang up, and toss the phone to the foot of the bed.
through this. I stare up at the ceiling and let the tears run down my cheeks,
into my hair, and onto my pillow. The starfish on the ceiling stares back at
the sad, pathetic girl and laughs.