"This is your fault he died! If only we hadn't opened the gate, he'd still be alive!" I scream at my parents, having flashbacks of my past dog.
I sobbed into my hands, having little glimpses of a new dog we owned. God, I hated him. I wanted my old dog back. I wanted him back.
-
My eyelids open when I gasp, a headache immediately hitting. What was the point of cold medicine when it made everything worse?
I wanted to cry right now, but for some reason, I couldn't. I couldn't feel anything. I knew my brain was telling me to cry, but my body wasn't listening.
I sit up in my bed, looking around the darkness. I sneeze randomly, twice, and pick up a tissue to blow my nose.
I breathe heavily, groaning after I'm done. The cold wasn't bad, but the details of the nightmare kept coming back to me. It was so... sad. Everything about it was so sad.
I jump out of my skin when my alarm blares through my room. It was odd; I thought it was earlier. Maybe I was just too deep in my thoughts to notice the time fly past.
Nonetheless, I get ready for school.
-
I don't know why I couldn't muster up a smile. I tried, but it was weak and easy to see through. I didn't have enough energy to lie, either.
I trudge down the sidewalk, seeing the high school come into view. I notice Minho standing by a tree, swiping through random apps on his phone.
I stop in my tracks, trying to think of anything that could make me smile. But today just wasn't it. Not even Minho could make me smile.
"Hey," I greet lowly, not watching him for any particular response.
He stands straight, a smile on his face before it turns sour, "are you okay?"
"Just tired," I reply, still having a pounding headache from earlier.
"Nightmare?"
"Cold medicine always makes it worse," I mutter, suddenly having tears spring to my eyes. I quickly blink them away, only for them to come back slightly when I yawn.
He frowns, lifting him arms and moving forward. But that just makes my heart jump and I duck away from it, feeling that the slightest touch could make me... I don't even know. Skin to skin contact wasn't something I wanted today.
"P-please," I request, "don't touch me today. It's not you, I promise. Just... don't."
He didn't look hurt; he looked understanding. And I was completely grateful for that.
•How was this?
This was supposed to be in a different book, but I immediately lost inspiration for this specific chapter and thought it was unnecessary•
