SHORT STORIES | THE SECOND ONE

+ HERE | DECEMBER +

+ 17.12.23. +

TW: Depression, Eating disorder, Family problems, Slight gore, Self harm, Mentions of sexual activities

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Three short stories consisting of Kyrie's high-school life, where she goes from a nobody, to the whispers below everyone's lips. What happens when she goes on a date with Asher Cooper, and become one among the group of so-called 'popular kids'? [three stories]

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                    + Night Time [story one]

IT'S NIGHT TIME. It's night time, and I'm outside.

I'm not at home. I'm not all tucked in and about to sleep at ten-thirty, like I do every single night before this one. Instead... I'm outside.

It's night time, and I'm outside. With a boy, of all people. The boy. Him.

The boy who's too tall to be true—with hazel eyes, and reddish blonde hair. Who goes to the gym almost every day, and is quite bad at school, but that doesn't matter when he has his charms.

This is where I've wanted to be for so long. This is the place I've worked so hard to get to. Here—outside, with him, with Asher Cooper; yet why don't I want to be here?

"You can finish that last bite, y'know?" I hear him say.

I pause, looking down at the remaining few fries that scatter my sad plate, then smile bashfully at his remark.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?" I ask, leaning my rounded chin against my trembling palm, as though trying to act as normal as possible—because who I truly am isn't welcome in this world, therefore I have to be like every other girl; boys like every other girl, boys don't like me.

"Nope, just saying you don't have to leave a few fries out of respect." Asher then states, taking one from my plate as he playfully smirks, "Besides, you've barely eaten anything tonight."

I chuckle, "I'm not that hungry, that's all."

A small laugh, then a lie—it's a common ritual. As to not have people worrying about me, as to not seem unlike other girls—I have to be like every, other, girl.

"Then why'd you ask me to grab dinner with you? If it ain't 'bout the food." Asher then questions.

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I'm here again. At the same place.

Since the fourth grade, after I moved from home to here.

It's been six years, and still, I am at the same place.

I'm sitting alone in the library, trying to silence the grumbles swirling amid my abdomen.

I'd rather be hungry than have to be at the cafeteria. I'd rather be hungry than sit alone, or worse, sit with a bunch of people who don't want me to be there.

High-school was meant to be my best years. Martha and I swore to it. We were going to learn how to do makeup, and get some sort of sense of fashion. We were going to be the most popular girls, and be invited to every party. We were going to be whom everyone wanted to be.

Martha and Kyrie. M and K. We were going to take over the world together.

But M stands for a lot of things. Martha was just a Memory.