Celeste's childhood wasn't something she loved talking about. It was filled with nothing but painful memories. Whether they were the ones from when her father, along with her brothers, left, or the ones from her mother's death and her stepfather's a...
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— celeste's pov —
THE NAUSEATING TASTE of bile rose at the back of my throat as I made it back to my seat, my hands shaky and my vision blurry.
Presenting the physics project along with my twin was not as easy as I had expected it to be, not with thirty pairs of eyes staring right into my soul as I stumbled over every word I said. And certainly not when I felt like every one of them could see right through me.
My heart had started to pound in my ears as soon as Marco had asked Mr. Miller, the physics teacher, if we could present our project today. The familiar ringing noise had started to echo in my ears as soon as the man nodded, telling us to come forward before he started a new lesson.
I had thought that I would feel better after presenting. I felt worse. The eyes following me until I sat by Marco's side and the murmurs filling my ears from all directions: all of that terrified me. All of that made my stomach churn with nerves.
My eyebrows furrowed when a folded piece of paper appeared on the table in front of me. Glancing around to make sure that no one was paying attention besides Marco, I started to unfold it.
The corners of my lips lifted.
It was a stick figure with sunglasses on, its arms raised in the air as it smiled in what I assumed to be victory. The note on the bottom of the paper read: we did it. without getting yelled at, may i add, which is very impressive. we're so cool.
The stick figure I drew had its head hanging low, its arms dangling loosely by its sides. The note I scribbled by its side was messy but legible. that was really scary. i messed up a lot, sorry.
Marco's face morphed into a frown when his gaze scanned over the paper. His neck craned to the side so that he faced me, his glare unwavering. "You did way better than me," he whispered. "Stop being rude to yourself."
I was about to respond, but Mr. Miller's voice reached me before I could do so. "Do you have anything to share with the class, Marco?"
Marco slumped in his seat, the corners of his lips lifting into a humorless smile. "No. Nothing."
His gaze shifted to me. "Celeste?"
My shoulders slouched, and my nails dug into my skin in an attempt to ease my nerves. I shook my head, gulping. Too much unwanted attention.
The class carried on with no interruptions after that, Mr. Miller's explanations floating in and out of my head, the words making no sense to me. My mind wandered to places I hated as my bad memories collided with reality, locking me in a haze between past and present and pulling me deeper toward the living nightmare.
