vii.

7.4K 88 20
                                    

Cassiopeia.

Her eyes snapped open. She scanned the dark room looking for JJ who only happened to be on the couch opposite of hers. With his cap covering his face and a light snoring noise underneath, he was absolutely knocked out. Her mind must have been playing tricks on her.

She turned her body to look at the clock, 5:48. She let out an exhausted sigh and stared up at the ceiling fan, hoping the circular motions would end up making her fall back asleep.
A light rain from outside repeatedly tapped on the living room windows, the noise carrying throughout the whole house as though someone was knocking at every crevice. But it calmed her down. The noises outside were louder than the voices in her head, and she was okay with that.

As the rain picked up, she laid there debating whether she should move. The noises outside made her body burrow more into the couch. From across the room, JJ's light snoring had grown in sync with the wind. Her body was betraying her mind, and although she would have loved to have laid there and soak in the overcast morning, there were other pressing matters to attend to. For starters, talking to Sarah. She sighed in regret and sat up. She winced in pain due to the cut on her palm stinging. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the couch, her stance all too wobbly. She quietly hobbled over to the door where her dirty sneakers sat. Next to her on the counter was a photo of JJ and his dad. She admired the photo wistfully, having only slightly knowing the man when they were kids. She glanced back over at JJ to find him still, his chest rising and falling with each snore.

"I'll be back," she uttered, whispering the words throughout the silent kitchen. She tapped her fingers lightly on the counter, deliberating whether it was worth leaving him. He moved slightly on the couch before turning his body over the way, his baseball cap falling on the floor in the process. She reached for the nearest writing utensil and etched into an old magazine:

Later.

-C.

She hurried over and placed the note on his hat, the corner of her mouth turning up as she heard his blissful snore once more. With a quick look over of the house, she grabbed one of his jackets and headed out into the rain.

--

The walk was damp and muddy, her sneakers sloshed through the puddles and she grimaced as she felt her socks soak up the water. Pulling JJ's hood over her head, she continued on, the rain slapping her back in protest. This was the type of weather where she could truly think, her thoughts were finally not louder than the weather around her. She wasn't entirely sure how to approach Sarah. For one, she was Rafe's sister and Cassiopeia wasn't sure where her loyalties lied. Reminiscing back to the conversation she and Rafe had at the table, it seemed he despised John B, or perhaps it was the fact that he was a Pogue. Whatever the case was, she could tell the siblings relationship was strained. Secondly, if word got back to JJ that Cassiopeia had spent more than one occasion with Rafe, he would look at her differently and he wouldn't trust her. Lastly, she just didn't know how to approach Sarah. She was thinner than her, with a body sculpted in the eyes of Aphrodite, her beauty most likely being the talk of the small island. And she was all John B's, a Pogue through and through. And together they found solace in each other, a Kook and a Pogue. She just seemed effortless, the way she poised herself on a hammock and her dirty blonde hair would fall naturally into place. Or how her pout upturned when she smiled. Cassiopeia ran her hands down her own body and was met with soggy socks and baggy, fish smelling clothes.

Cassiopeia wasn't envious of her, just regretful. Regretful being she had all this baggage which weighed on her daily. Regretful she spent years in the making letting herself go. Regretful she let marks grow up her stomach and down her thighs because the only way she could cope was through food, and plentiful amounts of it at once. Regretful she ran away from the one place that felt like home, only to return years later feeling the same emptiness she felt when she first left. Regretful she wasn't at the dock sooner and let her brother sink to the cold, ocean floor. Regretful she can never let anyone in as they would only be consumed by her copious, un-faced, amounts of darkness that lingered dormant inside of her.

nightrunnersWhere stories live. Discover now