FicWad

In the morning, I started packing my things.
It's amazing how much useless stuff I had collected over the years. I had three of the same sweaters, and they were all really ugly. What was I thinking? I didn't even have a suitcase to stuff them in. I had to get trash bags, with those elastic handles. There wasn't much besides clothes, a Bible I never read but kept because I reminded me of home, a small handheld radio and my wallet. It had fifty dollars and a credit card. Throw in my Honda, and there was everything I had to my name. There wasn't much, but I wasn't much, so I guess it was fitting.
"What are you doing?"
Jay stood by the doorframe, a mug of coffee in his hand. Judging from how unsteady he was, I guessed that he added something a little extra to it today.
"Packing."
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
He slurped and contemplated what to say next.
"You coming back?"
"Maybe."

He lurched over to me and put a firm hand on my shoulder. "You can't leave. I'll fucking...I'll fucking kill you if you leave."
"Maybe that's for the best."
Jay went quiet as he watched me place the rest of my belongings into a black Hefty bag.

I remember the first time I met Jay, he seemed like a real asshole. Flexing his muscles for the ladies, openly laughing at anyone he thought was way too uncool to be in the club that night. Apparently he was a regular there. I didn't even go to clubs, but someone on campus convinced me to go with them, getting me so worked up about it that when they cancelled on me, I ended up going by myself. The only thing I really remember is a tall, muscled jerk coming up to me, smirking, and saying something about "Nerd City". People laughed, and I stormed off alone to the bar. Then at some point I woke up with a headache and a smile on my face. I didn't really get why I was happy until I rolled over to the side, and saw Jay. Okay, I wasn't exactly thrilled to find I had slept with him. Once he woke up, he definitely wasn't either. We made instant coffee in his kitchen and, surprisingly enough, an instant connection. We had a lot to talk about, besides the whole piecing together of how the hell we had ended up in bed together in the first place. The morning after never tends to be enjoyable, but for some reason Jay and I just worked. It almost made me forget I had been through a dozen relationships before, and I'd probably go through a dozen more after Jay. He was egoistic, immature, irresponsible, vain; the kind of guy who was great for a night and hell for any longer. I had never meant to give him another thought.

I lugged my bag o' crap into the car and chucked it into the backseat. I could tell Jay was watching from the window, but when I turned to go back inside he was gone. I really had no reason to stay, except that I really had no idea where to go. I did have options. I could go to Nick's, or Dan's. They were old community college buddies; they'd gladly let me inhabit their sofabeds for the night. Not to mention there was, just a few streets away, an old flame who I was certain still burned for me; he surely wouldn't mind having me for a while. If I grew really desperate, I could even go to Mom's.
I sighed. That was the problem. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be anywhere where I couldn't be with Jay...but at this point, that most likely included every spot on the planet. Everything was ruined.
My feet led me back to the living room, as my eyes and hands memorized the furniture and the walls. I tried my best not to think, but I'd be lying if I said it was even close to working. I wandered into the main hallway, and walked up to each room, taking mental snapshots. The bathroom door was shut; from inside, I could hear a slow, steady weeping. "Oh, Jay," I said softly, placing my palm on the door. I decided not to go inside; I had disturbed him enough.
Of course, I ended up in the bedroom, our bedroom. It was a fairly standard room: one dresser, one bed, a TV in front, and a closet with a mirror on the door. It looked so ordinary, but it held so many memories for me that even the smell of the chestnut made my eyes water. I was only in here for one reason: I had to bid farewell to Dorothy.
She sat on the top of the dresser in all her fuzzy pinkness, a wide grin on her face. I picked her up and sat on the bed cradling her in my lap. She was supposed to be just a joke. After Jay and I had been going out for a while, Beth wanted us to do some cute, couple-type thing together, so she took us to make a teddy bear together. It was as stupid as it sounded, and it didn't help that everyone else who came to make a bear had not reached puberty yet. Jay picked out the most obnoxious color choices, and we both snickered as we delicately sowed a little red heart into the bear's chest. Beth had thought it was the cutest thing she had ever seen, and she christened the bear Dorothy. Somehow, Dorothy managed to hold the fort all these years.
"I'm going to miss you," I said out loud to those bright green eyes. I squeezed her lightly; strangely, her upper body seemed to rip. I looked closer and realized little Dorothy had been assaulted. In the middle of her fur was a tear. It wasn't jagged and crazy, but surgical, as if it had been methodically done. That was strange; the last time I checked, Dorothy had been whole. I vaguely wondered what had happened. I turned her over and patted her back to see if any fluff would come out; instead, little red pieces exploded onto my lap. I honestly didn't understand. Even when I saw the scissors on the ground, its blades covered with fabric, I didn't get it. I took me a while to notice how Dorothy looked perfectly fine on the outside; it was only her scarlet core that was torn up into irreconcilable pieces.
"Oh, Jay," I said softly.