𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 (Broken Red Crest Trilogy#1)

Cara

Cara

I'm sitting in my room when I get a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Cara, it's Jack, from lunch today. I just wanted to apologize for being so rude. I didn't mean to, my deepest apologies.

Me: Hi Jack, don't worry about it I'm not angry or anything. Thank you for apologizing.

Jack: So we're good?

Me: yes, we're good I promise.

Jack: Great. I also wanted to say that it truly was great meeting you.

Me: You as well, the pleasure was all mine.

Jack: I don't know about that.

Me: About what?

Jack: That meeting me was nice.

Me: What makes you think that?

Jack: I'm not...the kind of person that people like meeting.

Me: Then it's a good thing I'm not other people. Quite frankly, I don't see how anyone wouldn't want to meet you because there isn't many people who would get my number to apologize for a first meeting.

Jack: I guess so.

Me: There's not many boys like you, Jack.
Trust me, I of all people would know that.

Jack: I suppose that's true.

Me: That is very true lol.

Jack: Yes, especially since you of all people would know.

Me: Glad we're on the same page.

Jack: I agree.

So Jack really is a sweet guy, I can't believe he messaged me. But can I really trust this? Him.

I've been lied to before. What if this isn't any different?

I pray, Oh God, please don't let this be the same. Please don't let him be like the other. I just want someone good, please. God, please it's all I ask.

  ♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

I hate school so much. I hate everything thing about school. Especially people, I hate the people the absolute most.

School anxiety is one of the worst things you can experience. The overwhelming, disgusting wave of nervousness you get just thinking about school. The. Absolute. Worst.

Mentally I roll my eyes as I see Brad walking up to me. "Hey Cara, I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this weekend?"

Yeah...no. "I'm sorry, Emma is coming over this weekend." I sigh and already feel that familiar wave of anxiety come over me.

"How about next weekend?" He asks with a somewhat annoyed expression. Yeah, what's new?

"No. I'm all booked. Sorry." He rolls his eyes and mutters a whatever as he walks away. Why is he such a jerk when he's the one who screwed up?

Why do I feel so bad? I don't like him. Anymore. I wasn't rude, was I? Oh God I was. No...no I wasn't, it was respectful. Right? But seriously? He has the nerve to ask me out after everything.

Our dance studio is my favorite place in school. It's quiet and peaceful. It's a great place to sit and think. Mainly when dancing of course. I connect my phone to the speaker. Music fills the room, my heart and soul.

I slowly begin to sway, feeling the music, my body begins to move. I do a fan kick into a pique turn. My arms flow into perfect motion with my body. The music starts to crescendo, which is the perfect time for a leap. I breath as I do 3 pirouettes, finishing I roll to the floor as the music comes to an end.

Dance has always been my passion ever since I was a small child. Dance was my first love, still is.

As a dancer, it's one of my very few ways of expression. I find a perfect song and just dance. Sometimes it's in my head. As in I hear a song and I imagine I'm dancing in that moment but not physically. I think dance is the heart of so many things.

Our dance team is quite successful. We've gone to to competitions and won. I've won fourth place overall once. I know it's not the best but as Emma says at least I tried.

♡♡︎♡︎♡︎

I'm in the Counselors office, crying. My overthinking has been taking an extreme toll over me.

"What's been going on, darling?" Mrs. Jones asks my as she takes out my file from her cabinet. I bet that thing is full of my screwed up crap.

"It's...my overthinking again." I grab the tissues she hands my and wipe my eyes. I sigh and look up at her.

"That's where you're wrong. Do not add "my" to whatever your problem is. Because then you're claiming it and your brain will trick you into thinking it's real," She pauses for a moment. And continues. "When you're drowning in your thoughts say that you are enough verbally. Repeat it to yourself. The mind can be a terrible place. Sometimes you have to tell yourself that you are in control."

Sometimes...I convince myself that everyone hates me. I convince myself that no matter how many times people say they love me or care for me, it's all a lie.

Yes, I'm pretty screwed up in the head. I'm incredibly ambivalent. I wish people would care more about my problems but I also hate when people worry about me. I wish that I could always be happy but I've somewhat grown more comfortable in my sadness. I wish I could find someone to love but I promised myself I would never put so much effort into something that destroyed me.

I feel unlovable. Irrelevant. I feel like a...burden. I don't like to talk about my feelings because I don't want to bother people. I don't especially when someone else is going through hard times, their mental health is more important than mine, they need to be okay before I am.

There are so many people going through things worse than I am, so who cares about my stupid problems.

There are worse things in the world. I'm just being selfish. "Cara, stop it!" I scold myself.

"I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm enough.

Why isn't this working? This should be working. Mrs. Jones said it would work. So why isn't it? Maybe I'm just that broken.

I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough! I'm enough!"

"I'm...not enough....and I never will be."

"Cara, don't say that. You're having the start of a panic attack," Mrs. Jones whispers. "Just breathe."

Just. Breathe.

Authors note:
NOT EDITED KEEP RUDE COMMENTS TO YOURSELF, please."