The only one

Chapter 8

I ran into the bathroom, my hands covering my face. The mirror was right in front of the entrance of the bathroom, once I start saw my reflection, I cried even harder.

I felt so alone.

And I realized that I was.

I just don't understand how people are happy in this world. All these terrible things happening around the world. The things I could do to mess something up. Knowing that, how could I be happy?

Relationships are supposed to be full of love but how can you love someone if you don't know if they feel the same way?

How could I think he liked me when I look like this?

I threw myself against the wall and slowly slid down, curling my self into a tight ball, trying make myself disappear. I squeeze my self tighter and tighter.

I held my breath, trying not to make a sound so no one would find me. But after a while, I couldn't keep it inside of me.

I guess a person can only take so much.

I like to think that all of the anger, pain, and sorrow builds up inside of a person, but after a while, it's a little too much, and all of that begins to peek out.

Broken hearts and scars in only places I could see, cause I just wanted to feel something.

It breaks the person.

That's what's happening right now.

I just shouted and screamed while continuing to cry.

After a few minutes I was done.

I put my hands over my damp face, the tears began to slow down.

I checked my phone, it was four o'clock.

All of the late buses left. But I didn't want to leave.

Leaving would mean facing the world.

But if I didn't leave by five, I wouldn't be able to leave until tomorrow after school.

I put my backpack over my shoulders, the weight pulling me down like the feeling in my chest.

I walk over to the mirror.

I look to the person staring back at me. I know that's the person I am inside. My chestnut colored hair was a tangly mess. My face was red and damp from all of the tears. My black sweater was misplaced. I quickly tried to fix it. But by far the worst things were my eyes.

They weren't ugly looking.

They looked broken.

My eyes were red and puffy, the appeared to be almost swollen. They were filled with depression and worry and stress. Even though the color was brown, my eyes stood out. They were a lighter color.

It showed how vulnerable I was.

Seeing that, my lips began to quiver.

But I didn't want to cry again.

Suddenly at the door of the bathroom,

"Lira, open the door, please!!" A voice said

"That's it, I'm coming in"