Wonderland

❅H21❅ The Butterfly Garden

Chapter Twenty-One

Heather's POV

The Butterfly Garden

 

October 29

One leaf...two leafs...three leafs...

I absentmindedly picked them off from the branches around me before throwing them down onto the ground below me. I needed something to do, needed something to take my mind off of my atrocious midterm grades. I didn't do well on any one of my midterms. I know this because I finally had the guts to check my grades online. Even though it wasn't a big surprise, it still hurt. I refused to cry over my failure though, being that I had already shed a few tears on it a few days ago. Needless to say, I still needed an escape.

So I found myself boarding a bus at four in the morning. It was probably a stupid thing to do, seeing as how I was alone and unfamiliar with the city in general, but I was too upset and depressed to care about my safety. With Isabelle visiting her parents over the weekend and Brayden hanging out with his new friends, I found myself lonelier than ever.

As of now, I don't know where I am. All I know is that I'm in a heavily forested area—not that I minded. I loved nature. I loved climbing trees. I was sitting at least twenty feet above the ground on a tree I had climbed. I don't know what type of tree it was; all I know is that it had nice thick branches for me to sit on.

I leaned my head against the trunk of the tree and sniffled. Why am I such a failure? I fail at everything.

No wonder no one wants me. I wouldn't even want myself.

I felt a tear leak from my eye. I frustratingly wiped it away. Stop crying, Heather. You're eighteen, for crying out loud!

But sometimes, age doesn't define maturity. I broke down into tears just then, impossibly wishing that I had someone here to comfort me.

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I didn't get back to my dorm until seven in the morning. That was because I had trouble finding my way back to the bus stop. I'm sure my eyes are red right now. Red and swollen, perhaps. Once back in my dorm, I went to the bathroom to wash the dried tears from my face, but to my utter coincidence Berkeley was there.

"What happened to you?" she said, when she saw me. I could feel her eyes digging into me as I made my way over to a sink.

I felt my cheeks burn. "Nothing terrible," I mumbled.

"Obviously, but you look like you've been crying for a while." I could detect some disdain in her voice.

"It's really nothing."

"What's wrong?" She came over to me, a concerned look on her face.

I looked down at my hands for a moment, wary of her. Open up to her, Heather. If you don't open up, how do you expect people to like you, to talk to you? "I didn't do so well on my midterms," I murmured.

Berkeley blinked at me once, letting my words seep in presumably, before suddenly bursting into laughter. "Wait, that's what you're so upset about? Because you fucked up your midterms?"

I flinched, utterly embarrassed that I had told her that. Sometimes, I feel like I let people in too easily.

"Oh goodness gracious, Heather. That is the stupidest thing to cry over. It's not like you're life's over," she said, between giggles. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off rude, but that's just the most ridiculous thing I've heard this week."