Hollow

Chapter 17

The next morning, I woke up by myself. Miss Toledo was nowhere in sight. I got nervous, was she gone too? Was I in this small hotel stranded and alone? I hopped out of bed instantly running out the door.

I ran through the lobby, all the people looking at me like I was crazy, and made my way to the entrance of the hotel. I turned, and then saw Miss Toledo just lighting out a cigarette.

v

Ma'am smoked cigarettes, I was surprised that she did too.

"I didn't know you smoked." I said, with worry.

"I only smoke when I'm stressed."

Miss Toledo always looked nice, but not today. She looked wrecked, like she hadn't slept in five days.

"How was your sleep?" I asked, trying to act like I didn't notice.

"How does it look, Hollow?" She turned to me. "How do you think I slept?" She said with a cranky tone.

I didn't reply to that. She was angry. I don't really answer back when people are angry. So I just looked down.

"You know," She said, taking out another cigarette.

"It's funny how I told Timothy to look out for you in the trampoline park, but you were actually supposed to look out for him." She took a long smoke.

Like I said, I don't usually reply back when people are angry. But what she said really pushed my button. Was she actually gonna blame me for Timmy's disappearance? She was just mad. I said to myself. Don't feed in.

She let out a sarcastic chuckle. " You expect everyone to come save the day, don't you? Everyone to come to your rescue-"

Don't feed in.

" What is it Hollow?" She said with that same nasty tone she was giving.

"Are you angry?"

Don't feed in.

"Damsel in distress?"

Don't feed in.

She took a long pause to smoke.

"Or maybe you're just selfish"

That's it. She was really pushing my buttons now.

" I get that you're mad Miss Toledo, but this is very unnecessary, none of this is my fault!" I said back.

" Of course it isn't." She rolled her eyes, "When are you going to ever get that you're not always the victim."

My blood started to boil, my first began to clench, angry tears were trying their best to escape my eyes. It was hard to ease up after Miss Toledo was saying all of this nasty stuff.

" What?" She said with a chuckle. " Do you think you're the victim right now?"

"Well, yes because-"

" I don't want to hear it," She said. "Just go away."

I didn't say anything back, I turned back, paused, and then made myself back to the hotel room.

I slammed the door with all my might, which made the pictures on the wall fall down.

I looked out of the window. Looking outside usually soothes me. I breathed in deep, and let it out. I repeated that about ten times, but that didn't work. My fists began to clench again, they clenched so hard that it started to hurt my palm. That angry tear finally fell out of my eye! I took another glance at the window, and then I punched it.

I punched it so hard that glass fell out of the window. There was also some glass stuck on my fist. It felt sharp, and it stung like a heak. "OW!" I yelled. "Ow." I said a little quieter. I looked back out the window, and then I started to cry. I didn't cry because it hurt, I cried because I thought I was screwing everything up, not only for Miss Toledo, for everyone else.

Those voices started to crowd my head again. "Do it. Do it. Do it!" I paused and stared at my bloody fist, letting the blood dribble on the floor. I wanted to go to the sink, but it's like I couldn't get my feet to move. The voices started to fade, but then, the dark thoughts in my head started to come to me.

"No wonder why Ma'am killed herself"

"No wonder why Timmy got kidnapped"

"No wonder why Miss Toledo hates you"

" No wonder why you never had friends"

"No wonder why your parents never wanted you."

It was all because of me. I thought.

I took a long pause, stared at my fist, and began to clench it.

The glass pierced the inside of my hands, making me bleed even more, making my hand turn a little blue.

The pain of it hurt, but the reality of everything, hurt even more.

After a few seconds, it's like reality didn't exist. My hand hurt so much it's like the pain I was feeling above that, wasn't there. I would much rather focus on that then what I have been focusing on.

I stopped, and now I started to cry from the physical pain I was feeling.

I took my right hand to squeeze the glass that went into my skin, out. The tiny holes that the glass made on my hand stuck there, but at least the glass was out.

And then there I was, starting at the broken window, the blood on the floor and the glass that was now in the trash.

Wow, I am such an idiot.