He's Worth It ~ Lams (COMPLETE)

Day Four

HALFWAY THROUGH!!

edited

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I wake up at 4:30 with a splitting headache and decide right then and there that I am not going to school today. Lafayette tries to nudge me to go to school, but I do not let him drag me into his car. My head is pounding and I shove a pillow in my face, groaning in pain. I hear my bedroom door open and the soft padding of slippered feet on the wooden floor.

"Hey honey, how are you feeling?" Martha asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing my back soothingly.

I let out a grunt of indignation and bury my head further into the pillow, hoping that at some point soon I'll just become the pillow.

"Well that's not good. Do you want breakfast?"

I shake my head and hiss from the bolt of pain that follows. It's all your fault, Peggy. Dumbass dare.

"Ok hon, just text me if you need anything. I'm going grocery shopping, I'll be back in like two hours. I'll get you some soup," She says, patting my shoulders and fixing the duvet cover over me. "Love you."

I let out a raspy "Love you" and squeeze my eyelids shut, tucking my knees into my chest and trying to focus on something other than the blinding pain in my head. Sure, not going to school today meant not getting to see John until Monday, but I think if he saw me in this state he'd never want to talk to me again.

When the pulsing finally subsides a fraction, I slowly lift my head off of the pillow, my neck feeling as brittle as a twig. The pain blinds me for a second, but I hold onto my forehead and it starts to fade again. Fantastic, now I can sit up. What progress.

I stretch my body to try and grab my laptop from the desk, but it's too far away. Why would I want to stare at a blank document for a long number of hours anyway? I have no clue what I'm doing anymore, but I know that I would rather not stare at a blank ceiling or wall for the entire day. I have to do something. Anything.

I notice a designed notebook cover on the floor that I'd never noticed before. It's a struggle to get out of bed, but once I flop to the floor like a fish out of water, I crawl to the notebook. I hold the pad in my hand, examining the plastic cover. It's got words written all across the cover in a super messy version of my handwriting, and I suddenly feel compelled to open it.

October 16th, 2017

This is not a diary. Diaries can suck my ass. This is something my new freaking therapist gave me to write down 'my innermost thoughts and feelings', explaining -quite hypocritically- that no one would know what's in there except for me. That's total bull, I know people snoop.

I don't know why The Washingtons actually pretend to care about me. They've known me for what, a few weeks, and-

I snap my head up from the pages and suck in a breath, wincing when a fresh bolt of pain shoots up my spine and into my brain. This was the notebook that my old therapist gave me when I first moved in with Martha, George, and Lafayette freshman year. She'd expected me to share the journal with them all when I was done with my therapy sessions, but I had a panic attack and she then told me to read it to them only when I was really ready. I don't think they even want to hear what's in this thing.

I look back down at the pages before I pull myself back up into the comfort of my bed. I pull a pillow up to support my head and prop the notebook on my knees. Am I even ready to read this? All these memories and feelings rushing back are going to make my head hurt even more.

I swallow down my worry and continue to read the first entry back in 2017.

I don't know why The Washingtons pretend to care about me. They've known me for what, a few weeks, and they already act like they know everything about me. I'm waiting for the day they pack me up and shove me off to some new temporary home. It's inevitable, really. They say they've already adopted me and everything, that I'm a Washington now, that they love me 'so much'. It's all fake. I've heard it before. Everytime something good happens to me, the universe decides I'm not worthy of love. Whatever. If my life has taught me anything, it's to not have faith in people.