"or maybe I was just a girl interrupted"
--
After her boyfriend breaks up with her, lost teenager Cecilia Bass is unsure of how to carry on living without him. Or with him? She is forced to continue going to school with him and having to deal with h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-
"Celia I understand that your sad but are you really going to ruin your life over some boy?" Her brown eyes stared at my light jade ones. Dark bags had began to form underneath my eyes to pair with the swollen look and I could tell she was scrutinising every inch of me.
I buried further into my bed and cushions and turned myself away from her, her fake solicitude was burning me considering the fact that she only pretended to like Cal because of his money.
It didn't take long until I heard the click of my door shut, allowing me to finally let out a sigh of relief. I was back in the deep, desolate, darkness of my abyss.
It was nice of my mother, it really was, to act like she even shed the slightest bit of sympathy. Compared to how she usually was, this version of her might as well have been a Godsend. But we both knew that she was only tolerating my behaviour for a couple days at best.
My room was a hoarder's dream. My double bed lay in the corner of the large room and my window was above it but that had long been covered up by opaque black curtains so there was even a slither of light to affect me. My hardwood floor was hidden through a stream of clothes that led a little trail all the way up to my overflowing large chest of drawers.
Opposite that was my basic desk, computer and chair which I hadn't touched in days. I couldn't bring myself to even log on due to the massive picture of Callen plastered on my Lock Screen - He used to be everywhere in my room. His pictures, his clothes, his books and his games and even just him. My walls were painted light green in a symbol of his favourite colour however you could barely see my walls through the masses of posters, photographs and little doodles I had collected onto it.
My own "safe haven" just felt like one giant reminder of him.
I pulled up my phone to check the time. My sense of time had been warped due to me not leaving my room, barely even my house. 4:25 pm. Another unsuccessful day of the try not to cry challenge. My time was running out though, tomorrow the weekend would be over and after missing a whole week of school I doubt my mother would let me do it again.
I groggily pushed myself up out of bed and stumbling through the mess littered on my floor, I made it out of my room. I had to squint to prepare my eyes for the sunlight attack. On my right, the hallway window was open and bright rays were still blinding with an occasional breeze which made me shivered and tug down on my pyjama sleeves.
On my left the grand staircase lead downstairs to where my parents were probably reading the newspaper? Or whatever old people do. But across from me was the much needed toilet which I practically ran into to relieve myself of the many intoxicants I had been guzzling down.
I could see myself in the mirror from the toilet and not much had changed besides my usual straight, shiny, black hair being matted and greasy and my face looked pale and ghostly (the hollowed out cheekbones were not a good sight), my pink plump lips were chapped and in need of dire assistance, my button nose was red and dry because of all my sniffling and nose blowing and let me not even get me started on my dull eyes, my eyelashes were wet with tear and my cheeks that were dotted with freckles now had dried tears running along them.
I really had let him ruin my life.
Pathetic.
All I could think was pathetic. All I had was myself to be blame. Callen didn't force me stay in all week crying. Callen only ended what should have ended a long time ago and my reaction was pathetic.
I wondered what everyone was thinking about me currently. Did they see me as the same hopeless girl I saw in the mirror.
