twisted beautiful things

xlii. safe

i am so emotional rn

xlii. safe

'i don't have you here with me

but at least i have  a memory'

(ariana grande)

>>>

two weeks later

kennedy

The whistling of the tea kettle on the stove echoes in my ears, bouncing around my brain.

Mom takes the pot off and pours steaming hot water into a cracked green tea cup, using a spoon to stir in the tea.

I sit at the counter under the flickering lights, shivering in my mother's thick wool blanket.

"Was it the same dream? Mom asks softly as she sets the cup down in front of me. I nod wordlessly and wrap my weary cold fingers around the steaming mug.

It's three in the morning, I think. I woke up screaming my lungs raw, images of burning buildings and falling bodies painting a venomous image in my head.

Two weeks has done nothing to ease the trauma that has taken over my body.

Two weeks ago, 27 people leaped to their deaths at St Briars University.

Two weeks ago, the university burned to the ground.

Two weeks ago, we destroyed the remains of any ghosts.

Two weeks ago, my best friend fell into a coma.

Two weeks ago, Gianna Harrington sacrificed herself for everyone else.

I don't remember much that day; I was taken to the hospital, I think. They examined me and when they determined I was unharmed, I was released into police custody where I was questioned extensively. I don't think they got much information from me- I was too traumatized to answer any of their questions.

Only a few days after and it was decided that I would stay for a few weeks with my family in the Philippines. I've been staying in my parent's small house for the past week, trying to process everything that has happened.

I was so messed up afterwards.

I mean-how could I not be? There was so much death. So much blood. So much destruction.

Now I wake up in the middle of the night every night screaming. My mother is usually the one to come comfort me, but occasionally my dad has. He's not as good as my mom at comforting, but he tries.

I've been trying to heal. At least, heal as much as I can within this whole week. I spend most of my time alone, actually. My parents both have steady jobs now and so I am kind of left to my own devices during the days.

I have a routine that I've settled comfortably in: wake up, eat breakfast with my family, clean the small house we were staying in, and then journal or nap. I go for long walks sometimes; I go into the village, or long walks around the large pond behind our house. Sometimes I'll just sit or nap under the shade of the tree facing the pond, feeling the hot sun beat on my skin.

At night, I make dinner, and eat with my parents when they get home. We spend the last few hours of the day together, I call Atticus, and then I go to bed.