Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❛ YOU PROMISED. ❜ 30. Terminus ❛ I Don't Trust You. ❜ ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
In the six hours of settling in this house, I hadn't closed my eyes; the simple thought of falling asleep puts a strain on my brain, it repulses me and stresses me to the brim. The lack thereof makes my eye bags drop deeper, becoming a much darker shade of grey— almost black. Exhaustion is clearly written across my face; my lips are pulled into a blank and straight frown.
A drying feeling reaches my eyes, forcing me to blink which provokes tears to build in my eyes. I allow a tear to fall down my cheek, too busy with the thoughts swirling in my mind to care about it. In the hub of my deafeningly loud mind, a long, heavy, quivering, and silent breath drew from my lips.
I flinch as a hand just slightly grazes my shoulder; sitting up right, I glance toward the person who just touched me, Kareem. He narrows his eyes at me in concern yet gives me a friendly smile. (even though it doesn't hide the emotion in his eyes.)
"Ya'll ready?" I ask while tossing my bag over my shoulders.
"Yeah, but—"
"Alright." I cut him off. "Let's go, then."
"Kendall." Kareem caught my arm before I could reach the door; frowning at me. "I notice the eyebags.. Are you okay?"
"Kareem.. please, let go of my arm." His touch makes me ache with discomfort. "I am fine, but we gotta go."
He presses his lips together, releasing my arm and following me outside, provoking his siblings to do the same. I felt all of his concern seeping from him, like a greying cloud hanging over his head. He keeps up and walks beside me with his eyes staring into the distance.
I almost fixed my lips to speak but when I feel this overwhelming sense of someones eyes on me, it made me press my lips shut and side glance the person who seemed to be the one staring at me— Messiah— and frown. She didn't just stare at me, she was glaring angrily; even when I looked at her she didn't stop, her eyes narrow into mean and unwelcoming slits. As I glance away I pinch my eyebrows together.
"Tell us about your group." Jeremiah says, which was surprising to me that she spoke at all.
"Rough." I answer as quickly as she asks. "We have been through so much together and that makes us.. We're trauma bonded. We're angry and reserved, and we trust no one. I mean, it's hard to trust people when you are betrayed and chased— when shit like this happens, this surviving shit gets a hell of a lot harder."
