Complicated

Chapter 61: Push Away

y'all know the drill for the music —>

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P U S H A W A Y

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Kathy's POV

June 17th

Damon and I haven't been getting along.

I recognize it: it's my fault. I've been a real bitch to him, I hate that about me but I can't stop myself.

I want to be alone. By myself.

And he doesn't seem to understand that.

I had to undergo a ton of shit and don't want to talk to anyone about it and I've already had enough with writing stupid journal entries, I just can't talk to anyone about it, especially not him.

I can't have him look at me the same way my family does... if he looks at me like that I think I might just break.

And that's why I am where I am right now.

I took a deep breath in before climbing up and swinging my legs over the railing of the astronomy tower, dangling them in the fresh air as I sat on it, holding the railing with one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey in the other.

I let the chilly air of this June night run through me and focused on the burn of the firewhiskey running down my throat instead of how high up I truly was.

No fear. Have no fear.

It's just high up. Just a couple... 100 meters or so.

I dangled my legs and allowed the air to brush past my bare thighs and loose shorts.

This isn't so bad.

I looked down and realized how high up I was, making me clutch the railing tighter until my fists turned white.

Fuck. That's high.

I took another swing of the firewhiskey and cringed at the burn.

An iridescent silence ripples through the air.

It's 1 AM. No one's up, and if they are, they definitely aren't anywhere around here.

I hummed a melody to myself softly as I looked at the stars, grateful to not be in London or a big city so I could actually see all of them.

Then I realized it, this has been the longest time I haven't thought about those days. Not once, until now that is.

I used the bottom of the Firewhiskey to scratch the mark on my calf, wincing at the harsh burn.

"Katherine?!"

Puta. (Fuck)

I gasped and dropped the bottle, clutching the railing with both hands as I watched the bottle crash onto the ground and shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

I turned around and glared at the all familiar voice.

Damon.

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" I yelled at him.

"Please don't jump." He approached me slowly, with his hands out, much like a firefighter would approach a kitten stuck in a tree.

I furrowed my brows in confusion until the realization hit me and I laughed harshly. "Piss off."

He continued walking slowly towards me. "Kathy please. We can talk about this."

"Do you ever mind your own fucking business? You're suffocating me, I turn around and you're always there. Just leave." I demanded, looking down at the shattered bottle of firewhiskey that I otherwise wouldn't have been able to see had the bottle not been made of glass.