The Lost Memories

31. what are you doing here?

"I'll see you later." I say to Em, trying my best not to make eye contact with her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home now?" She asks me, "I can be the one to stay behind. I'd rather I lock up so I know that you're safe."

I shake my head, convincing her that all will be fine. "No, I'll be fine. I'll just text you when I'm done."

"A-are you sure?" She asks me.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Alright then."

Despite what happened earlier, Emily is still speaking to me. I can feel the awkwardness, though. She's keeping her cool but I know that deep down she wants nothing more than to tell me exactly how she feels about what I did.

I've decided to stay behind to lock up, not because I want to but because I need the space. I don't want to be around anyone right now, especially when I'm feeling so down about myself.

"I'll see you later." Emily smiles, weakly.

"Yeah..."

As soon as she walks away, I take a while just sitting alone. It's quite dark in here, quite eery, but for me, it just feels so peaceful. But then I begin to think about what Emily's parents were saying and how it basically confirmed my fears– I am hideous.

Why would Emily want me whilst I look like this? There are plenty of other girls that would give her what I could, but so much more! I mean, she could actually have a girl that isn't twice the size that she is.

God, she must be so ashamed to be seen with me.

I then feel a flutter in my stomach, a small kick near my ribs. It then happens to set off tears, and I find myself not able to stop crying. I think about how no one loves me now, so how will this baby be able to?

I can't do this. I can't be a mother. I just can't.

Maybe I should've had an abortion when I had the chance.

I can't contain my emotions, so I find myself rushing out of the door and practically running to the bathroom. It doesn't even bother me that the building is now in complete darkness, the only source of light coming from the small flickers above my head. The sound of my footsteps seems so loud against the deafening silence in the building.

I hold my hand tightly against my mouth as I assume that at any second my vomit will be covering the floor. I feel instantly nauseated, yet I don't know why.

And when I get to the bathroom, it suddenly dawns on me; I know how I can fix my problems. I mean, I've done it before. I've done it time and time again, and it gives me some relief, even just for a few minutes.

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it." I mutter to myself, pacing back and forth.

I shake my head, trying to convince myself not to be so cruel to my unborn child.

"No, no, no, no." I rake my sweaty hands through my hair.

But my negative thoughts win, and the next thing I know, I'm throwing open the cubicle door, and my knees hit the floor, my fingers down the back of my throat. I then begin to throw up violently, everything I ate today hitting the bottom of the toilet. The sound of me gagging makes my ears ring, and I feel like I could faint.

But after a few unpleasant minutes, I feel instantly better. It's like my mind is convincing me that in those minutes, I lost ten pounds and my body is now perfect. It probably isn't, though. It never will be, because despite what size I am, it'll never be good enough.

I instantly panic when I hear the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, creaking as it does. I think about just staying quiet, not drawing attention to myself, but when I see a pair of feet outside the cubicle door, I decide to speak up.

Panicked, I say, "S- someone's i-in here."

Thankfully, those feet then disappear, and I sigh in relief.

I then flush the toilet, watching my vomit disappear, along with my deep secret. Everyone would hate me if they knew that in my spare time, I like to stick my fingers down my throat to relieve myself.

I then turn the handle, unlocking the doors before stumbling over to the sinks. My body crashes into the wall multiple times whilst doing so as I feel extremely faint. And when I finally get the water running, I furrow my brows as I notice the lights above begin to flicker wildly.

"What the actual fuck?" I whisper.

And for a quick second, the room is engulfed in darkness before the lights eventually turn back on... I don't think too much of it, but it does unnerve me

And when I begin to hear noises, footsteps coming from the cubicle behind me, it's like I can do nothing but listen to it. My heart begins to thud rapidly against my chest, my breathing heavy, sweat now dripping down the palms of my hands.

It's like my body knows to be frightened. It's like I'm being warned. But, even though I should run, my feet won't move, and I find myself stuck.

And it's when I look in the mirror that I see her...

I gasp loudly whilst gripping the ledge behind me tightly. I make instant eye contact with her. Her brunette hair sways as she walks, a mischievous grin plastered on her face as she struts over to me. She can see that I'm terrified, and it only amuses her.

"Scared, are we?" She questions me.

"W- what the h- hell?"

She mimics me. "W-what the h-hell? Oh, so we are scared! Thanks for letting me know."

Then, she walks closer to me. "Not that I needed to know. I can smell your fear from a mile away..."

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I can't move, it's not possible, and even if I tried to, she would find me. It's not hard for her to locate people when she really wants to; she just has to put her mind to it.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her.

And because she doesn't answer my question, I say, "What do you want from me?"

She grabs a strand of my hair, twirling it around her finger. "Don't get too impatient; I was just about to get to that..."