Cecilia – Serial Fiction, Chapter One


A stapler went flying through the air only to miss James by inches; it hit the wall, leaving a dent. James’ eyes widened. Then he looked at his fuming ex girlfriend and glared. If they were still dating he would be scared witless. But they weren’t. Because of him.

“No, Cecilia, it’s my house-“

“YOUR HOUSE?! WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK THIS IS YOUR HOUSE?! I PAY THE BILLS WHILE YOU GO OFF CHASING SOME ROCKSTAR DREAM! FACE IT, JAMES, IT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN!” Cecilia threw the nearest thing, a roll of duck tape on their dresser, and this time it hit James square in the forehead.

James winced, but didn’t move, “Cecilia, for the last time, I’m not leaving.”

“Then I’ll get a restraining order!”

“If anyone should get a restraining order, it should be me!” James said. Cecilia glared at him for a moment and then proceeded to stuff his belongings in a trash bag. “Cecilia, put my stuff back!”

“Usted es tal idiota. Espero que usted se estrangule en la lengua de amante.” She said menacingly. She continued to shove James’ clothes and various items into the bag. James’ heart clenched. One thing that he had always loved about her was the way she sounded when she spoke Spanish.

But never when it was insults.

Sighing, James took the bag from their – her – bed and left the room. He had lost her. Even a stubborn, arrogant guy like him could see she had made up her mind.

He had it coming, after all. He walked out into the hall and over to the elevator and waited. The light flashed on and emitted a small ding after a minute. James sighed in relief. He could hear Cecilia throwing things in the apartment behind him. It was making him rather uncomfortable. The door opened in the elevator. A man in a business suit was just getting off. He took one look at James and heard a particularly heavy object thump against Cecilia’s door, making them both jump a little.

“Break up?” The man asked knowingly, fighting a smile.

James gave him a slight, weary nod and they parted ways, the man chuckling to himself as he walked down the hall.

James was now in the elevator, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. Cheating on your girlfriend was just something you shouldn’t do. It just wasn’t right, according to the laws of dating. James scolded himself. Not for cheating, but for getting caught. Guys cheated all the time, but if you were caught, getting castrated was the least of your worries.

But James wasn’t an idiot; he knew when he was right and when he was wrong. And at the moment, he was never surer that he would be seeing Cecilia again. He knew that this wasn’t the end of it. Smiling a little, he knew he would get his Spanish firecracker back. In time.


Cecilia stared at the door her ex boyfriend had exited through. She was still infatuated with anger; completely immobilized. She wanted to run after James and rip out his throat; she wanted to find some way to show him just how humiliated she was. Never in her life had she ever expected to be cheated on.

The apartment was a wreck. Cecilia put everything she had into destroying it with James’ things. She had taken his stupid Fender and obliterated it against the tan and white couches he had picked out. They were ugly, and Cecilia hated them, but she let James pick them out because she loved him. She let him take over her apartment, decorate it with the most ridiculous artwork, and trash it completely, leaving her to pick up after him. She let him take over her mind, her life. She did it all willingly, all for the pretty things he said and his empty promises. She loved him.

“I wasted three years with that guy…” she whispered.

She took another look around the living room. The sofas were broken beyond repair. The TV was shattered. It lay, leaning against the entertainment center, which was splintered. The walls were bare of the ugly, department store paintings she had let James buy. With her money. Cecilia stared at her handy-work, waiting for some sort of satisfaction to envelope her. She waited to feel anything but the raging pain inside her. But nothing came, if anything, it hurt worse to see all of James’ broken things there.

She turned to their room, which she hadn’t attacked yet, for she had followed James out into the living room to make sure he left. The covers of the queen size bed had a slight dent in them, from the weight of the trash bag she had filled with James’ clothes. Cecilia stifled a sob. Her eyes flitted across the beige walls, over the long, cherry wood dresser, over the TV stand. She had picked this room out. James let her. He wanted to see her happy just as much as she wanted to see him happy. At least that was what she had thought. If you want your girlfriend happy, you don’t cheat on her.

The pain hit her head-on. She crouched down on the floor, feeling the gaping hole in her chest as it tried to eat her from the inside out. It seemed to swallow any good feelings she could’ve had at the moment. They were over, she thought. James had finally taken the single, most important thing she could’ve given him and ripped it into microscopic pieces.

Slowly, tears began to trickle down her face until she was sobbing, alone, in her room. Her heart was shattered by the only man she had ever loved and her world was slowly crumbling around her.