Write a short scene from a specific character’s point of view, in the first, second or third person.
I walked into the room and could feel all eyes on me. People stopped talking and just stared. One of the waiting staff hurried over to me and began gently ushering me toward the door.
I scanned the room, looking for him but seeing only disgusted faces and muttered whisperings. Then I saw him. He was with a small group of people with their backs to the commotion, backs to me. I shrugged off the waiter and started striding towards him, people parting readily to get out of the way of the crazy woman.
And maybe I am crazy. Why would I want to go back? Hadn’t I hurt him enough already? And now that the cancer had spread, I would end up hurting him all over again and it would be worse this time. But last night when he called to reconcile I had been so rude. I told him lies. I told him I didn’t love him, that I was with someone else, that I had moved on – none of it true.
The waiter was still trying to grab at my arm and pull me towards the door, but the adrenaline had kicked in and nobody was going to stop me. Nobody, except maybe James. I was about to relinquish control, surrender my heart and soul to him like he had done to me all those months before. I just have to hope he will make a better guardian than me!
“James?” The group stopped talking and all eyes fell on me. James turned slowly around at the sound of my voice, his eyes revealing the hurt I had caused him.
“James, I’m sorry,” I said. “What I said last night, it’s not true!”
“I know Annie, your brother told me the cancer was back. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Everyone was listening, but for once I didn’t care. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be easier for you not knowing. That you’d be able to move on, have a happy life without having to nurse me during my last days. But when I found out you were moving to New York today, I couldn’t let you go, not without… without telling you.”
I broke down and fell in a crumpled heap to the floor. James bent down and whispered in my ear, “Don’t you think that’s my choice? And Annie, I choose you. I choose you every time. I love you and I will love you for the rest of my life. And if I only get the next two years with you, or two months, or two weeks, then I know those will be the happiest times of my life if you let me share them with you!”
I sobbed harder than I had in years, and flung my arms around his neck. He picked me up, carried me to the door, and I knew then that I would be able to fight, and maybe… just maybe… I could win!