Diana's P.O.V.
"It is 12am,
and her mind wanders.
She tends to think about something that happened 5 years ago, or something that happened 2 hours ago, or even something that could happen 10 years from now.
Her mind is like a hurricane,
It is a wreck.
It is full of beautiful yet awful thoughts.
It is 1am and her mind continues to wander."
I stand in front of my mirror, looking at myself, pointing out all my flaws after I had stopped writing. My stringy hair, no correct nutrients. Unhealthy. My large, dull eyes. The original color of bright, sharp green and blue. They aren't what they used to be. They've changed. Like I, myself have.
My body is thin, but bigger than I want it to be. When I look in the mirror, I see a fat self. Someone who needs to lose weight. Someone who weighs too much.
As I got thinking on my weight, I step away from the reflective glass and to the scale where I step on it, making it sink down into the rough carpet of my bedroom floor.
I wait a few moments. My mind jumps to different conclusions as the numbers continue to go higher and higher. They finally stop, and my eyes get wide at the number being shown on the small screen.
98 pounds.
I'm 98 fucking pounds.
I let out a cry of shock and disappointment, eyes wide and not able to be pulled away from the numbers. I cannot weigh this much. This is wrong. Not right. It can't be.
I step off the scale and wait for the terrifying numbers to disappear and once they do, I step back on it and wait. The anticipation. The nerves.
I let a tear fall as I read the screen.
98 pounds.
It is true. I can't weigh this much. I just can't. I step away from the horrifying scale and run to the bathroom. I lean over the toilet and push my pointer finger and middle finger down my throat to make myself throw up my last meal.
When I'm done I wash my hands and brush my teeth. I lay on my bed and grab a book from the small nightstand at the top corner of my bed. There is a very small pile of books on my nightstand, which is only three books. They are really good books though, and I love them a ton.
The book I had grabbed is called "We All Looked Up" and it's an amazing book. The only thing I'm not very happy able is the ending but whatever the journey the characters go through is exciting and adventures.
My stomach growls and I sigh and attempt to get up but fail as pain shoots from my hip. I groan and rest myself for a few moments before getting up slowly and walking to my small dresser to find something to wear.
I rummage through the dresser before grabbing a pair of navy blue leggings that match the penguin on my white sweater. It covers my scars in all the places. I slip on my pair of worn converse and search through a secret drawer in my nightstand and grab about 10 dollars before walking to my bedroom door. I quickly turn around and grab a pen and my journal before I open my bedroom door and stick my head out for any noises indicating that my father is awake. I hear none so I walk down the stairs and slip out the door.
It is another chilly day and I once again applaud myself for my outfit and continue walking down the sidewalk to the small café Liam and I had gone to a couple days before.
I hadn't been out for those couple of days because my father ended up being home when I was late and I've been being punished for missing a few clients.
I push the glass doors with my palm so it swings open so I can step inside. Once inside I glance at the booth we had sat in and a grin spreads across my face. I order a coffee, despite my inner voices, and hesitate before making up my mind and going over to the booth. I run my finger along the small wooden table and sit down, still with a grin on my face.
My coffee is brought to me and I sip the hot liquid that ends up burning my tongue, I wince a little bit but it blows over within a few moments.
I open my journal to the next blank page and think for a minute, a ton of different thoughts filling my mind. I press my pen down to the clean paper and start to write.
"There once was a
young girl with green eyes
who wore her soft blond hair
in braided pigtails.
"At the age of seven,
she watched her older sister
stand in front of the mirror before school
and pinch her stomach with a disgusted face.
Neither of them ate breakfast that morning.
"At the age of nine,
she watched her older brother
make fun of a girl with glasses
for reading on the bus.
She went home and hid all her books
in the attic.
"At the age of twelve,
she watched the older girls at school
with straight hair and short skirts
put makeup on in the bathroom
and discuss how boys would only like you
if you looked perfect, like them.
The next day she arrived with red lips,
short shorts, and no braided pigtails.
"At the age of fourteen,
she watched her father hit her mother for the first time.
Her mother cried when she saw her standing in the doorway
and told her daddy didn't mean it.
The next year, she told her that
her boyfriend didn't mean it, either.
"We meet again, you beautiful brunette."
The voice startles me from my writing. I'm not finished but I guess I'll finish later. I quickly shut my journal and look up to see the handsome man I had kept thinking about the days before. He still looks handsome as ever with his minimal amount of facial hair and chocolate brown eyes.
"Liam," I breathe out and he smiles widely. I gesture for him to sit down across from me and he does so. He looks at me for a minute and checks his phone.
"You're not gonna take off again, right?" He asks and I shook my head side to side indicating that I would not run away going like last time.
"No, no I won't. Which reminds me to apologize for that." I chuckle I little bit and he does too. "I feel bad for leaving like that."
"No, it's okay. At least I get to see you again." I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and I know they're a tint of pink. It's embarrassing honestly, to be blushing into from of this amazingly good looking guy. Even though he's the cause of my pinkish cheeks.
"So, what's new with you?"
A simple question sparks something in him as he talks about his family and friends. I know he's in a band with three other guys and I know the name but I've never really heard any of their music because I've never have had the chance to. I guess they're really good, considering their millions of fans, girls and guys wise.
I still there across from him in the small booth in the corner of the café and listen intently to the parts of his story he actually tells. I can tell, though, that he's holding some things back, which I don't blame him for because we had only met about three or four days before.
He has a certain sparkle in his eyes when he explains his loving family and, from what it seems, insane group of band mates. His sisters, I notice, he's very fond of, even if they seem to tease him a lot.
While he's talking, I'm thinking. I'm thinking about all the information he's telling me, and how he's holding some of it back too. How he's protective and certain people and wants to punch others in the face. How his former band mate, Zayn I believe, left the band and how there's rumors flying around that their management actually knew about him leaving before anyone else.
And along those lines of thinking, I'm wondering what it would be like to be part of his world. Part of his life. Part of childhood and present times. Wondering what it would be like to have been there during the leaving of Zayn.
The sparkle in his eyes never leave as he continues to talk.
Maybe someday I'll be the cause of that sparkle.
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3rd Chapter! I dont know how I feel about this one...
~J♡
