Shattered Asylum

Chapter 20

I woke up again, drenched in sweat, with the same nightmare playing out behind my closed eyelids. But this time, it was different, someone was trying to saw me. Their voice cut through the chaos, distant but desperate, yelling at Daniel to stop.

The image of their outstretched hand faded as my eyes shot open, the remnants of their word echoing in my mind.

The clock on my nightstand blinked back at me: two hours before school. Plenty of time. Maybe today I could try something new, something to make me feel a little more put together.

I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering chill of the nightmare.

After finishing, I wrap myself in my spongebob robe and start my morning routine.

For once, I decide to put effort into my appearance. I fill my brows carefully, swept mascara onto my lashes, and added a subtle shimmer of eyeshadow that catches the light just right. A touch of blush warmed my cheeks, and a dab of highlighter gave my skin a soft glow.

Next, I turn my attention to my waist-length curls. I section my hair, running the straightener through each piece until it falls in sleek, smooth strands down my back. It feels strange to see myself like this, so polished, but I like it.

In my walk-in closet, I thumbed through the hangers until I landed on a brown knitted sweater with long sleeves. I paired it with ripped black jeans and my trusty black Converse, tying the outfit together with a simple silver necklace.

It wasn't over the top. but it was a step up from my usual.

Breakfast with my grandparents was quiet and comforting, the clinking of dishes and soft murmur of conversation grounding me before the day ahead. I smiled at their casual bickering over the crossword puzzle and felt a pang of gratitude for the little slice of stability in my life.

By the time I arrive to school, I feel good, confident, even. Today is going to be a good day.

At my locker, I swap out my books and catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror stuck to the inside in the door.

"You've got this," I whisper, reciting my daily affirmations.

"You're strong. You're capable. Today is yours."

The moment I shut the locker door, I nearly jump out of my skin. Grayson is leaning casually against the locker next to mine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You freaking scared me!" I gasp, clutching my chest as my heart races.

"Relax." He chuckles, his brown eyes glinting. "You look pretty today."

My cheeks warm under his gaze. "T-Thank you," I stammer, hating the way my voice faltered. I quickly recover, brushing it off. "You don't look bad yourself."

"I always look good," he replies with a cocky grin.

There it is, his insufferable ego. I roll my eyes, masking the little flutter in my stomach. He is so self-absorbed sometimes, it's annoying.

All of a sudden, his posture changes. His body stiffens, and his playful smirk vanishes. I follow his gaze, confused, until I spot what has him so tense.

Layla.

She is down the hall, pressed against some guy who has his back against the lockers, their lips locked in a way that makes it clear they don't care who is watching.

Layla and her new fling aren't even suppose to be down this hall. I glance at him again, expecting some sarcastic comment, but his jaw is tight, his eyes dark.