Naomi Collins used to be adventurous. She used to be able to live life in the moment. She used to be, well.. happy.
She went to college at one of the top universities in the country, where she wanted to be her best self. She left junior year realiz...
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A week seemed to go by in a blur around me. Every day consisted of Cam checking on me and don't get me wrong, I appreciate everything he's doing for me. It's just hard when someone asks you how you are doing. How am I supposed to answer?
I'm freaking out on the inside and terrified of every unknown sound I hear in the house? That the only peace I can ever get is when I'm asleep? That is, if I can actually get myself to fall asleep.
Nope. No, I'm not going to do that. I can't do that. So, I'm going to do the only thing I can do.
I peek through my bedroom door, my canvas and supplies in hand. Before I fully step through I check each of the guys' doors to make sure they are shut. I don't need them to know I haven't been sleeping ever since I got here.
I didn't think I would be able to get sleep, even getting away from Alex. Actually I knew. Terror still buzzed throughout my body. Anxiety seemed to claw it's way up through my chest and my throat.
Once I had made it down the stairs, I placed my supplies on the floor next to the couch. The living room and kitchen were connected and had a large patio door in between. I flip my hair, bending over to put it in a bun. Stray pieces framed my face. If I'm being completely honest, I haven't washed my hair since I left. So throwing it up on top of my head seems like the best option these days.
I walk into the kitchen, sighing in relief when I spot the coffee machine. Now to find the mugs. The first cabinet I checked had plates and glasses. Then the next I finally found the mugs. Each mug was different and I couldn't help but smile at them. There was one that said, but first coffee, and then one that said, Dog Mom. I decided on one mug that had the outline of California, placing it under the machine.
While waiting for the coffee to brew I set up my easel in the living room by the patio door. I placed one of the kitchen stools in front of it. My easel was sleek and black with a compartment attached to hold my paint and brushes.
The coffee machine makes a spatter sound, indicating my coffee was done. Now standing in front of a freshly painted beige canvas, I take a sip. I may have just burned my tastebuds off but I can barely acknowledge it through the thoughts swarming my mind.
It's like I'm being blindfolded by all of my dark thoughts and memories, I just need to project them onto my canvas.
I laid awake staring at the ceiling. The only thing I could hear was the deep breaths coming from Alex beside me in bed. I need to leave now.
Millions of thoughts string themselves in front of me. If I get caught, if he wakes up, he will kill me.
I tip toe my way to the dresser, shoving whatever I can in my duffle bag. I couldn't care less what I am throwing in, I can buy whatever I need when I get to Cameron's. All I need is to get out.
My art supplies, wallet and important items have already been stashed in the trunk of my car. When Alex was in the shower earlier in the night I packed my car up, getting ready for the drive ahead. I get to the front door. As I look at it, it seems to grow farther and farther away.
