MidReal Story
Unbreakable Bonds
Scenario: A 21 boy jqust came out of jail when he met a girl she was depressed and so was he and they fastly falled in love with ech other as they learn to be happy in there sadness together
Create my version of this story
I was just out of jail.
I had been in there for a crime I didn’t commit, and I was finally free.
But I didn’t feel free.
I felt like a burden to my family, and I felt like an outsider in the world.
I didn’t know how to fit in anymore, and I didn’t know how to be normal.
The world had changed so much in the past five years, and I had changed too.
I was no longer the same person, and I would never be that person again.
My family tried to support me, but they didn’t understand what I had gone through.
They didn’t understand what it was like to be locked up for something you didn’t do, and they didn’t understand what it was like to be alone in the world.
But she did.
She understood me more than anyone else, and she was the only one who could save me from myself.
She was my salvation, and she was my redemption.
She was my everything, and she was the only thing that mattered to me now.
I wanted to go home.
I didn’t want to be there, and I didn’t want to be at the party.
I didn’t know most of the people, and I didn’t care about any of them.
They were just there to make noise and to drink, and they didn’t care about me.
They only cared about themselves, and they only wanted to have a good time.
But I didn’t want to have a good time, and I didn’t want to be there.
I wanted to leave, and I wanted to be alone.
I wanted to go home, but I didn’t know where home was anymore.
I hadn’t been there in a long time, and I didn’t know if it was still there.
I didn’t know if I was still welcome there, and I didn’t know if I still belonged there.
I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere, and I didn’t know where I was supposed to go.
I was lost, and I was alone.
I was alone in the world, and I didn’t know what to do.
I was overwhelmed by everything, and I didn’t know how to make it stop.
Mark tapped me on my back, trying to get my attention over the noise of the crowd.
He had been my best friend since we were kids, but he felt like a stranger to me now.
We hadn’t seen each other in five years, and we had both changed in that time.
We were no longer on the same page, and we no longer had anything in common.
We were no longer friends, but we were no longer enemies either.
We were just two people who used to know each other, but who no longer did.
He was trying to be nice to me, but I knew he didn’t really care about me.
He only cared about what I could do for him, and he only cared about me as long as it suited him.
He was only pretending to be my friend, just like my family was only pretending to care about me.
They were only pretending, but they weren’t fooling anyone.
They weren’t fooling me, and they weren’t fooling her either.
She knew the truth, and she could see right through them.
She knew that they didn’t really care about me, and she knew that they couldn’t be trusted.
She knew that they would turn on me in an instant if it suited them, and she knew that they were only going through the motions with me now.
She knew that they were lying to themselves if they thought otherwise, and she knew that they would never change.
She knew that they would never change, but she hoped that I would be able to change too.
She hoped that I would be able to move on from everything that had happened, and that I would be able to start over.
She hoped that I would be able to start over with her, and that we would be able to have a future together.
She hoped that we could have a future together, but I knew better than that.
I knew better than anyone else, and I knew that there was no future for us now.
I found a brief moment of peace outside Mark’s party, but as soon as the brief flash of quiet left me and the music from inside blasted back into my ears, so did the guilt.
It swirled around in my mind, tugging at the corners of my resolve as if trying to rip away the facade of normalcy with which I’d cloaked myself for the night.
It would take less than a minute before someone realized what’d happened—there’d either be an audible gasp or a rush of shuffling footsteps as someone burst outside after me—and then there’d be questions: “Why?”
“Are you okay?”
“What’s going on?”
And if one person started asking questions, then another would follow—and another—until the entire party had emptied out onto the front lawn as everyone tried to figure out why I’d gone so quickly from life of the party to sudden flight risk.
I couldn’t handle the questions, not when I didn’t have any good answers for them.
So instead of waiting around for one of my oldest friends to realize I wasn’t okay and come outside after me, I started walking.
I walked, and I didn’t look back, and I didn’t stop until I was a good half mile away.
Even then, it took me a few minutes before my legs stopped moving.
It took a few more minutes before my heart stopped pounding in my chest as if it feared the rest of my body wouldn’t catch up from the sudden exertion.
I stood in the middle of the empty street and closed my eyes, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly, trying to force myself out of panic mode.
I could still feel the residual effects of the substances in my system, and they only made it harder for me to get a grip on myself.
I had sworn off of all of them for good, even before I went away, because I’d known how close I was getting to losing control.
I had been so close to losing control, and I knew that if I did, I might never get it back.
So I had stopped everything cold turkey, breaking off the relationships with all of my usual suppliers and cutting ties with everyone who used.
I had thought it would be enough, but it hadn’t been—not when I’d been so desperate for an escape.
Not when I’d needed something—anything—to make the pain stop, if only for a few hours.
So I had turned myself into the police.
I had walked into the station and told them everything, hoping that doing so would make the guilt go away.
But it hadn’t—it never would.
And neither would the memories that had haunted me every second of every day since I got out of jail.
So when Mark had asked if I wanted to come over for his birthday party, I had said yes, even though I had known better than to do so.
I had known better than to put myself in that situation, but I had done it anyway.
Because what else could I do?
I lifted my eyes to look at her.
I had told Sarah that she didn’t need to come get me, and she hadn’t.
But she had known that was exactly what I needed.
What I needed was to get away from there—away from all of them—before they realized that the rumors were true and turned their backs on me just like everyone else.
Sarah’s unwavering support was the only thing that had held me together for the past five years.
She had been the only one who had visited me in jail, and she had visited me every single week—first with her baby boy strapped to her chest in a carrier, and then with her toddler running loose by her side.
She had shown up every week when my own parents hadn’t even bothered to show up once.
And when they found out that I was in there for something that they hadn’t thought was possible—that they believed in my innocence and thought it was impossible for me to have done what they said—I had lost all hope that they would ever be proud of me again.
But Sarah had never stopped believing.
Sarah had never stopped visiting.
Sarah had never stopped fighting for me.
She was the only one who had, and for that, she had earned herself a permanent spot in my life.
She was the one who had saved me before, and she was the one who had saved me today.
She was the one who had kept me from turning back to the things that could take me down again, and she was the one who had helped me get away before it was too late.
Sarah was the only one who had ever mattered to me.
The only one who had ever truly been there for me.
The only one who had ever really understood me.
And when it came down to it, she was the only one who did.
She was the only one who cared enough to fight for me, and she was the only one who stuck around long enough to save me.
When we got back to her apartment, Sarah let me say goodnight to Tyler even though it was way past his bedtime.
She knew how much he meant to me, and she knew that he was the only thing in this world that could make me truly happy.
So when he ran into my arms with a book in his hand and asked if I wanted to read him a bedtime story, Sarah looked at me and nodded.
She told him that it was okay for him to stay up late, just this once.
She told him that she loved him and gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then she left him with me so we could go read on his bed.
We climbed under the covers together, Tyler on my lap, the book in my hand.
He didn’t complain about having to squish in close to me so we could both see the pages, nor did he complain about my deep voice or my messy hair tickling his face.
He looked at me with big brown eyes and listened as if he understood every single word.
When we were done the book, he asked if we could read another; but by then, he was yawning so much that his eyes were almost closed.
So instead of reading another story, I hugged him tightly and told him how happy it made me to see him again.
I told him how much fun we were going to have together now that I was back.
And then I kissed him goodnight before sending him off to bed.
