Chasing Jupiter ✔️

Thirty Five

In all of the books and all of the movies where something traumatic happens to the main character the story just ends with the happy ending.

They never tell you the aftermath.

The part where the nightmares happen. Or how being left alone in the safety of you bedroom for five minutes triggers an hour long panic attack. They especially don't tell you about the flashbacks that your trauma causes. None of it. You just get the happily ever after. No book or movie or anything could have prepared me for the tortures that coming home would be.

I didn't leave my house for nearly three weeks, utterly terrified to even step outside. The first week I spent sulking around, absolutely refusing to leave my room, except to go to the bathroom. Well I should say our room. As Archer moved all of his stuff from the guest room into mine. Claiming he lost nearly five months with me and he wasn't going to miss a minute more. After two days my dad went back to work, with alot of pleading on my end. He didn't need to coop himself up with me.

I officially enrolled in online classes. I wasn't going to go back to school to graduate, and given the circumstances the school was nice enough to give me the option to finish my classes online. So that kept me busy for about a week.

At the beginning of the second week Laci came to my house to dye my hair for me. I needed some control over my life again, and I missed the black in my hair. To be honest every time I looked at myself in the mirror with the brown balayage I didn't see myself, I saw Letty.

I needed some control back in my life again, and I wanted to forget everything that had happened. The physical bruises had long since faded but the emotional damage had been done. I still didn't know how I would ever heal. But changing my hair added a little control back into my life.

My hair was no longer blonde, but half black and half a lavender purple. It was different, I loved it. Not a single blonde hair was left on my head. Jut like I wanted.

I also made the decision to leave the safety of my room and go down the stairs to the living room and kitchen area. With only a few panic attacks. Archer being with me every single step of the way. Holding onto my hand tightly just as he promised. Seeming to catch my cues when I needed a break from trying new things.

On the third week, I ventured from the house to the gym in my back yard. No longer sulking, I was angry. So incredibly angry. I spent most of the third week beating on my punching bag, amongst using my other equipment in the gym. Archer never left my side, I had to basically force him out of the bathroom every time I had to pee. It was at the end of the third week I began to feel cooped up.

Throughout the entire three weeks the person I spoke to the most besides Archer was Andrew. We face timed every single day talking for hours. Mostly asking how the other was doing, and also talking about his upcoming wedding with William. Which I am going to be his best woman, which is a definite step up from fake fiancé if you ask me.

"I think I'm ready... To go out." I trail off at dinner one night. "Are you sure? Nobody is pressuring you honey." I understood their concern. But I needed to do this. For me. So I nodded to my dad, "I need to do this. I can't lock myself inside forever." My dad seemed hesitant, but begrudgingly agreed. "It's okay sir, I have the perfect place in mind to take her. She won't leave my sight." Archer and my dad share a knowing look, almost smirking at each other.

*****

It's the next Friday, and I'm officially going to leave the house after almost a month. Archer was downstairs talking to my dad while I got dressed. Putting on a red bedazzled cropped top, high distressed jeans, and a pair of black and red high tops. I didn't feel like doing my makeup, so I kept my face bare, my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. I had originally planned to wear leggings and a Tshirt but Archer insisted I dress up a bit.