~The lost one~

Chapter 2

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of my room, casting a dull glow that did little to ease the throbbing pain in my body. I woke up feeling like a bruised shadow of myself. The pain was relentless, but I managed to find a bottle of painkillers in my nightstand. I took a few, hoping they'd numb the ache and make it easier to face the day.

At school, I tried to push through the discomfort. When I met up with my three best friends—Anke, Kimberly, and Lena—they were bubbling with excitement about our upcoming trip to Italy. It was only two days away, and I was thrilled to be going. I had worked tirelessly all year, juggling shifts as a barista and doing other students' homework, all to save up for this trip. I didn't dare ask my parents for money; they'd already shown they couldn't care less, and I wasn't about to give them another chance to let me down.

Anke was the first to notice me and enveloped me in a warm hug. As her arms wrapped around me, I winced slightly. She'd accidentally brushed against a bruise Nyx had given me the night before. I tried to mask the pain with a forced smile, hoping she hadn't noticed. Anke didn't say anything, and I was grateful. I didn't want to explain, not today.

School dragged on as usual. Every bell seemed to echo louder than the last, and my thoughts kept drifting back to the trip. By the end of the day, I was more than ready to start packing. I wanted to lose myself in the preparations and forget about everything else.

But when I walked into my room, I found Carolina sprawled across my bed, her breathing deep and uneven. The stench of alcohol was strong, even from where I stood. I had hoped for a quick and peaceful packing session, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. Her presence was a reminder of how far things had fallen. I took a deep breath and began to pack my bags, trying to ignore her.

She stirred slightly, her eyes barely opening as I moved around the room. "What are you doing?" she slurred. I repeated the details of the trip for what felt like the hundredth time, but her glazed eyes and vacant stare told me she wasn't really listening.

I finished packing as best I could, then glanced back at her. There was no use in trying to have a meaningful conversation. I sighed and laid down beside her on the bed, feeling the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. The old, familiar feeling of lying next to her brought a pang of nostalgia. I remembered when I was younger, when things were simpler, and I'd curl up next to her for comfort.

Now, as I lay there with her, I felt a mix of sadness and longing. I wished for the comfort of those earlier days, when her love was something I could count on. But now, all I had was the aching reality of our broken lives and the anticipation of escaping, even if only for a little while.