Delicate Pulse | Violentine

Erasing You ~ Part 2

(tw: mention of blood)

I struggled to make friends growing up. Some days I would be too smart, other days I would be too rowdy. Too gentle but too aggressive. Too quiet but too loud. No one stuck around for very long and I grew to expect that. I never took it too seriously. I just kept reminding myself to keep running, to keep moving forward but this time I am stuck. I am frozen because Violet knew.

All the gasping and commotion must have woken her, it's the only way she would know. It should be no surprise, it probably would've stirred me awake too but to go gossip about it? To make me the butt of a joke? This is not rabbit stew anymore, it's just poison sizzling on my tongue. I feel so stupid.

Minerva is smug and waits patiently for my next move. I wheeze impulsively on the edge of hysteria. "Isn't it funny how my name is in your girls' mouth?"

This ignites her. She clenches her jaw and kicks me under the table, hard. I cry out in pain, hunch over and glare at her. The chatter dies.

"What the hell?" Omar blurts.

I slam my palms down on the table and shoot up from my seat simultaneously with her. Suddenly, we're locked into a showdown.

"Alright, both of you cool it. Now!" Marlon orders.

"Go," mouths Minerva, gritting her teeth.

I snatch Louis' dirty fork with a fist. I seize it in the air aiming the four metallic points at her, triggering an eruption of gasps. I shoot daggers at her before cracking my hand down, stabbing the fork into the table. It pierces through and digs up splinters of wood. It stands on its own, slightly bent at the handle. I storm off.

I hear Brody splutter. "C-Clementine, wait!"

I don't look back.

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When I march into the bathroom it's empty, not a girl in sight. I pace back and forth trying to ground myself, following the breathing technique. The menacing lump in my throat makes it more challenging, forcing me to intake gulps of air. I can't feel my head but every thought and memory charges through with ease. I might be on the edge of passing out but I cannot sit down. I cannot stay still. She's not even my friend so why do I feel like there is a knife harrowed into my back?

"I don't hate you for trying to talk to me," she whispers, I can hear the grief in her voice.

My pacing evolves to jogging in a circle. I try to relax. She never cared about me, right?

I crumple like paper, the pain spasms down my legs and forces my knees to give. Violet is shockingly the first to reach me from afar. She kneels over in a panic. "Fuck! Are you okay?!"

I grapple with the tap. Water spews out and I splash it into my face.

She kneels down, takes one, places it below my feet and presses it against the glass. It locks into place magically. She then grabs another and stacks them together, building what seems to be a brick wall around me.

"Stop! Please don't!" I cry, hammering my fist against the glass.

I stop, gripping onto the sides of the sink, watching my reflection in the mirror. Water mingles with the hot aggravating tears leaking from my eye sockets. I sob for a moment until the rest of my senses return and my racing thoughts sedate. I'm left with a headache and a nose full of snot. I blow my nose with some toilet paper and make an effort to conceal my blotchy face with some more water before leaving.

I don't know how many more dreams I can take.

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