izzys pov:
i've been without izzy for three whole days and i feel so lost without her. currently i'm in a cramped school cubical, trying to control my disordered breathing.
"um... hi?" i hear an unfamiliar voice, followed by a couple knocks on the cerulean door. a few seconds pass in silence. what am i supposed to say?
"are you okay?" shit. they must've heard me...
"yeah..." i reply hesitantly as i curl up my knees onto the toilet lid and sigh into my clammy palms.
"are you sure?" they repeat.
"no. i'm not okay. my best friend left me. i keep having these periods of shaking and getting out of breath. nothing in my life makes any sense anymore. everything is just falling apart" i begin to trail off at the end, the realisation of what i've just said slowly setting in. oh god. i've said way too much. i have no idea who this person is, or why they're here. why cant i just be normal? i open my mouth to whisper an apology, but i'm greeted with a voice from the other side of the door:
"i understand."
and with this anonymous voice stating these two words, i completely break down, now not caring about anyone hearing my loud sobs. i have no idea who this person is, but i know that they make me feel safe - almost as safe as i did with indy...
"i- i'm sorry..." i whisper.
"don't apologise! can i come in?"
i drag myself up, unlocking the door and i'm greeted with the brightest, piercing blue eyes. slightly covered my a dark auburn fringe, paired with mid-length wavy brown hair. she smiles at me and i feel my chest tighten watching her eyes crease up and her pink lips curve upwards. i half-heartedly smile back as she pulls me into a deep hug. she smells of sweet honey mixed with midsummer flowers. we stay like this for a few minutes until i've finally calmed down. i pull away and notice a burgundy patch on her red shirt from my tears.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" i say, horrified at what i've done.
"don't worry! it's fine, i just want to make sure you're okay..."
"i feel a little better now, thank you so much, you've helped a lot." i respond.
"i'm glad i could help. do you want to spend the rest of lunch with me and my friends?"
i nod, muttering yet another 'thank you', to which my supposed new friend tells me that i don't need to thank her.
"i'm sorry, i'm tara," she tells me after obviously realising we are still basically strangers.
"i'm izzy."
YOU ARE READING
identity
Teen Fiction"her knees buckled and hit the rain-coated, uneven ground, sending splinters of pain shooting up her spine. it was painful, horrendously painful, yet it still didn't even compare to the pain she felt while trapped in her mind. and no matter how far...
