Wonderland

❅H29❅ Solace

For those who have never read GGP, Lakes Ville ("located" in Montana) is a fictitious city! So no, it does not exist in real life! :)

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Heather's POV

Solace

November 25

Everything was getting worse. From my eating problem to my self-harming, I was utterly destroying myself. It's never been this bad before. Whenever I was sad, I would find solace in my stuffed animals or music. Now, I find solace in the form of a sharp metallic blade. I can't even begin to imagine what would've happened if Brayden had seen the cuts on my arm this morning. I don't know how I would've explained myself.

I reached into the pocket of my jacket and touched the smooth casing of the pocketknife I kept there. I found it in my room yesterday, inside my suitcase. I had brought it in case I'd need to open a taped box or something. Who would've known that I would be using it for something else instead?

I flickered my eyes towards the front seat, where Brayden and his brother sat. They were laughing over something. I assumed it was something Brayden had said.

I felt my stomach grumble. I laid a hand over it. I didn't eat the oatmeal Brayden got me today. Well, I mean I did, but I ended up puking it out. I couldn't risk the calories—I just couldn't.

I don't even know what compelled me to cave into Brayden's request. I feel like I cave into everything he asks of me. That's because you like him—duh, my mind huffed.

I pushed the thought away, feeling sick. What if Berkeley found out about this? I don't know what I'd do. I told her I'd stay away from him, and yet here I was, joining him for Thanksgiving. I'm such an idiot. I need to learn how to be more stubborn with my responses, to say 'no' to him every once in a while.

I then thought about what happened between us earlier this morning. His arms around me, his feet tucked between my legs, his warm brown eyes staring into mine, my cheek against his chest...

No, Heather. No.

I furiously stared out the window, focusing on the passing trees outside. I did this until we got to their house. I was shaking with anxiety by this point, afraid of how the other Colemans would perceive me. Maybe I should have opted for some makeup. Maybe I should've put my hair up or dressed in nicer clothing...

As if reading my mind, when Brayden opened the door to let me out, he said, "Don't be shy, Heather. My family's nice."

I nodded, getting out of the car. He lived in a modest two-story house—one that was much bigger and nicer than mine. The front yard was kept nice and tidy, and the balcony had a porch swing.

My dad used to have one sitting on our porch. I used to swing on it all day, but then one day, it broke. I know he blamed me for it, because I was the only one who really used the swing, but I never told him that the reason behind the broken swing was because of my half brother. He had thought it'd be a good idea to jump on the swing cushions one day, and I just so-happened to be there when the swing snapped.

"Are you kidding me, Heather?! Are you fucking kidding me? That shit cost me four hundred dollars and you break it in less than a few months?" I squeezed my eyes shut, shoving that memory into the deepest pocket I could find in my head. He had locked me up in my room that day, refusing to let me out. I remembered crying, wishing that I had spoken up that it wasn't I who had broken it. At the same time though, I knew it would not have been of use, as my dad simply adored Joe. He never listened to me, anyways. He thought I was full of bullshit.