Lost and Found (Loki X Reader)

Chapter 1

My dearest shit journal, so lovely to make your acquaintance again. You're the only one I can rant to so listen up:
""Hey, Austin!!"
*silence*
Alright... "Alyssa! Hi!"
*silence*
Maybe just a smile and wave?
Throughout everyone walking down the hallway, none of my "closest friends" give me anything except for a stare before they whip their heads away.
*After I get to class...*
Even better...
Theater was okay, nobody really talked to much to me, despite the substitute teacher who didn't care what we did as long as we didn't commit murder. This one girl in class had a giant ass bug down her shirt, and even though I got it out, she confused her "thank you's" with her scoffs. Elaine probably confused her, like she's confused everyone else in the 8th grade. Little Ms. Princess Elaine- so athletic and vocally talented, the little angel who came down and blessed the earth.
Just like Satan- a fallen angel.
With all the shit she's talked about me, and how perfect and innocent she makes her appearance, I'm the common enemy. All because I took the spot she wanted in the school play three years ago. So fucking spiteful...
Gym was better in comparison. My "best friend" told me how she just scheduled her birthday party this weekend. A week after I told her how I was going out of town. Funny how she lost her shit and made a scene in front of everyone about how I can't go, then exclaimed how at least her even closer best friend Elaine can come. I love my life.
So long for now, shit journal, unless something else comes up..."

Damn, I was one edgy thirteen year old. No wonder I didn't have any friends.
I close the old diary and put it back in the cardboard box. That was my last entry I wrote- not long after that eighth grade ended, then high school started up and I didn't have time for a life anymore. Not even my old shit journal. I should really start back up with that again.

Finishing up, I go through a couple other old relics from junior high so I can chunk them in the trash. My hand traces through the bottom of the box, feeling around for any small trinkets, when something cold touches my hand. I flinch, not drawing a single thought on what it could be, then grab it. It feels smooth and metallic, with some sort of energy pulsing through it and into my palm. I fish it out, and when I open my hand, a foreign gold chain with a deep emerald in the middle shines. What the fuck is this? I don't have any nice jewelry...

Thoughts race through my mind, but all results are inconclusive. I set it aside in a nearby drawer and continue my search for other pointless items. A few broken mechanical pencils, a once pink eraser now covered in old, blue pen gel and holes full of graphite, and pieces of scratch paper later, I take the old box and make my way to the garage. I arrive at the door and instead of being smart and putting the box down, I use my feet to maneuver the cheap french handle open- the garage's pungent and stuffy stench of old, musty, dead grass and depression rape my nostrils. With my bare feet on the freezing, moist stone, I hip hop to the garbage can and dump out the contents. Escaping the cold and creeping feeling that always haunts the garage, I hop back to the door back to the house

(Y/n) whispers softly behind my ear. Something grazes my back, just below my bra.
I whip my head around, but no one is there. Of course, I'm probably just going crazy. I shut the door and lock it with all three locks before going to the other side of the house to the master bathroom. Peeping through the door frame to my father's room, I check to make sure neither of my parents are in sight. When the coast is clear, I sneak into the bathroom and quickly pull a headband out of the drawer. I smack it around my face and start the hot water, whilst pumping face cleaner into a towel. I stare into the mirror so I can start washing my face, but my eyes are drawn to the closet behind me. Through the mirror, I stare into the dark abyss and dream up of different possibilities behind the door. I almost forget to wash my face, but while I'm lost in thought, I hear a thud on the other side of the wall. I scramble to clean my face and pat it dry before running through the room, the mini hallway, the living room, and back to my room. As I pass by the room the thud was in, I notice it was just a giant box that fell of a counter.
Thank the Lord it wasn't mom or else she would've killed me for washing my face without asking.
I jump on my bed and put my acne cream on before shutting out the lights. Laying down, I think of all the responsibilities I have to take care of tomorrow. Before I know it, I fall asleep curled up with a pillow.