Borrowed Time

Upturned World.

Chapter Two

Ainsley

That's it, I had official lost it.

My bed was turned upside down, my wardrobe inside out, the contents of my draws sprawled all along the floor. I paced around my room, rubbing my fingers through my hair a little too aggressively. My stomach was in nots and my legs was erratically shaking.

"It's got to be here somewhere "I thought to myself, throwing myself back on my bed picking at the skin around my nails. My anxiety was through the roof and I felt like I could projectile vomit at any moment. I shot up after hearing the front door open and close, running out of my room, through the long hallway and down the stairs. Once I entered the kitchen I was greeted by a wide smile and the bright eyes of Yvonne.

"Hi sweetheart, how are you?" she smiled sweetly as she walked across the room unpacking the groceries she must have been asked to pick up. I presumed by parents would have been back when I got home from school, but I'm used to the disappointment by now.

"Have you seen my journal?" I asked, anxiously awaiting the response.

"No, I'm sorry honey, what does it look like? Maybe I can help look after I've finished unpacking" she walked closer, sensing my anxiety placing her hands on each of my shoulders and gently rubbing them. "We'll find it sweet okay?" she softly spoke, offering me a comforting smile. The issue was, no amount of smiling could possibly comfort me in the situation I was in. That journal contained all my deepest and darkest secrets, every fucked-up thing that had happened in my life. If anyone was to find it... fuck I don't even want to think about it. You know the funny thing about panic attacks? They come so frequent I've mastered how to hide them to the rest of the world. On the inside I feel like I'm malfunctioning, my thoughts racing through my brain a million miles per hour so fast they become unrecognisable, all blurring into one. I get a not in my stomach, a not that feels so intense I struggle as I desperately gasp for air. My bones feel like they're erratically and painfully shaking against each other. But on the outside? I sit like a blank canvas, no movement, no expression. To everyone else, whilst I'm fighting this inevitable internal battle, I look like I'm at peace. Daydreaming, lost in space. I desperately try to hold my breath, starring at a photo on the wall, a photo that was taken three years ago at one of my father's business banquets. By looking at it you'd think we were the perfect family.

Huh, there's that word again... perfect. I'm sat down at the table, my legs crossed over each other, an elegant green dress gripping to every curve of my body my auburn hair pinned down my back, the look finished with a classic red lip. Either side of me my parents stand, a hand each resting on my shoulder, smiles displayed on each of our faces. By looking at the photo you'd think we were happy that we were the kind of family that took vacations together every month, that went out to dinner, watched movies. In reality, we barely talked. Not even enough to know the true ins and outs of our lives. Starring at the photo you'd think that my mom and dad were the type of parents to love their daughter unconditionally, the kind that celebrated her every achievement, comforted her every time she cried, protected her even when she made the stupid of mistakes. Yet all that photo represented was the ability to fabricate a false image to the rest of the world. A collection of images that made even the most dysfunctional of families seem normal. I was quickly brought out of my trance, not even realising the knot in my stomach has disappeared and my breathing had evened out by a pair of old, yet soft hands gently resting on my cheek. I blinked, regaining my focus to find Yvonne standing in front of me, concern written on her face.

"Ainsley sweetheart is everything okay?" she asked, moving her one hand to the top of my head brushing my hair out my face. I quickly slapped her hands from my face, standing back up and storming out of the room.

"I'm fine" I hissed. Now I know you're probablycalling me out for being a shit person right about now, but it's pretty hard toaccept any form of care when you've been brought up alone. As I reached thebottom of the stairs in the foyer, the doorbell rang, and I internally screamed.Throwing my head back before taking a deep breath, composing myself and headingto the door.