"Pretty Girl"

16 - empty

Malorie's POV:

-3 months later-

I lay in my bed and stare at the clock. It's been three months since the attack, and things are not better.

Kelly says I'm going through the classic progressions of PTSD. Within this time period, I've also gotten diagnosed with OCD. But that really only appears when I'm under stress.

Like right now. January 1st, 2020.

I look over at sound asleep Baylie and sneak out of my bed. I go down the hall to daddy's room. Not my dads. Just daddy's.

He got full custody of me. We moved out of our house and into an apartment 15 minutes away from mom's house.

Him and dad got a divorce. He's in jail until May. He's apologized profusely, but I've yet to accept it.

"Daddy?" I whisper, climbing into bed with him. He opens his eyes and puts his arms around me.

"Hm?" He says.

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Of course." I close my eyes. But they just fill up with tears.

"What's wrong, Mal?" He asks.

"I miss the way life used to be. I want everything to go back to normal. I want to wake up and go to school and stand at the bus stop with my friends and get picked up by dad and sing his shitty playlist," my voice breaks.

"I miss him. I miss the way mom used to be. I miss being 12 because that's the last time anything was ever good." He holds the back of my head.

"I'm so sorry, princess. I am."

"I know." I stand up.

"I'm gonna go to the pool."

"It's late, sweetheart be careful okay?"

"I will. Don't worry." I go and change into my black bikini and look at myself in the mirror. I've gained the weight I needed these past few months. My red hair now sits on my shoulders and needs a re-dye.

I go and get in the pool. It's freezing, but I love it. How it isn't closed beats me.

I swim a couple laps before I see a boy sitting on the edge, his feet in the pool, watching me.

I stare at him, freezing in fear. Oh, god. Please, no.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. It's weird, I know. I just didn't want to get in and scare you that way."

I take in his appearance. Light-Brown skin. Black, curly hair. Warm brown eyes.

"I'm Malorie."

"I'm Leo. It's nice to meet you, Malorie. How old are you?" He gets in the pool.

"I have a girlfriend," I say, backing up. He smiles.

"That's not what I asked, Malorie. I'm gay myself.
I have a boyfriend named Levi."

"Is it wrong of me to say you don't present yourself that way?"

"No. What are you doing in the pool this late?"

"I can't sleep. I have ptsd and I think I have insomnia from it. I'm 15. Sixteen in 10 days." He nods.

"Honestly, same Malorie. I'm 17. Today, actually."

"Happy birthday," I say.

"Thanks. Happy early birthday to you."