Always There

Chapter One Hundred and One

Songs for this chapter:
• ghostin - Ariana Grande
• willow - Taylor Swift

Chapter One Hundred and One:

Lexi's POV

"Is she ever going to leave her room? I hope she realises that she can't hide in her bed forever," my mom hisses from outside my bedroom. I can just barely hear the muffled sounds of her and my dad speaking through the closed door.

I squeeze my knees even tighter to my chest, pulling my duvet around me entirely so that I'm cocooned underneath, safe from the outside world.

I missed my bed very much during that one night where I was trapped in that dark, unfamiliar room. I'm sure I would've been too terrified to sleep anyways, but the cold floor was certainly not very welcoming.

I shiver at the memory and press my face hard against my pillow. I squeeze my eyes shut so tight that my head throbs, but I've noticed over the past couple days that it's able to stop me from crying, at least for awhile.

My dad lets out a resigned sigh. "Kate. She needs space. She's gone through a lot. As long as she keeps eating, she's going to be okay."

I whimper and rest my hand against the harsh, red lines decorating the right side of my abdomen.

I don't think I'm doing okay at all.

"She doesn't need space. She needs to talk to us. She's fourteen years old. Why can't she just grow up and stop acting like a child for five minutes?" my mom replies, lowering her voice to the point where I can barely hear her.

I shudder. I've heard those words far too many times over the past couples days, heard everyone telling me that I should grow up and stop hiding from the world.

My dad sounds significantly more frustrated when he speaks again. "You know what it's like to be in her situation far better than I do, but we both know that she's reacting in the exact same way that you did. You should understand why she wants space, and we both need to respect that."

For several seconds, it's silent.

I'm about to relax back into the mattress, assuming that they've finally left me alone for the day, before there are suddenly three sharp knocks against the door.

I jump, startled, before shaking my head at myself in disappointment.

Maybe my mom is right. Maybe I do need to grow up.

"Come on, Alexandra! We're here to help you, but you're being very immature," my mom says loudly, bordering on shouting.

I wince. I'm only fourteen years old. I thought I was still a kid. Why does it seem that since I was kidnapped a few days ago, everyone now wants me to act differently?

What changed? It isn't my fault that those people did this to me. Why can't we all just pretend that nothing happened?

And more importantly, why does it feel like everyone thinks that I should be a totally different person now? I'm still the same girl I was before, aren't I?

I frown.

Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I should be different now. Maybe I'm supposed to be more mature.

Finally, the floorboards outside my door creak, and I hear the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway and away from my bedroom.