after the death of her mother, leighton's father sends her to a boarding school halfway across the world to be taught a lesson. she knows no one and no one knows her.
but the cherry on top is who her roommate is.
#2 in ptsdawareness
#2 in anxiety
#...
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"you got me down on my knees its getting harder to breathe"
-meddle about by chase atlantic
⎯⎯⎯
The walls around me are cold, rough against my back as I sit slumped in the corner. My fingers trace the gritty surface of the floor, but I barely register it.
There's a small window high above me, the bars casting thin shadows on the opposite wall. I can't even tell if it's night or just some distant streetlight trying to push through the gloom. It doesn't really matter.
My bail is $2,000.
I stare down at the stain by my foot—dark, sticky, old.
I can't stop looking at it, even though it makes my stomach churn. I wonder how long it's been there, who left it behind.
It's like I'm searching for something, anything, to fill the emptiness inside me, but all I find are these pointless details.
Numb.
That's all I feel.
Everything is so far away, like I'm watching the world through a fogged-up window.
The anger that used to pulse through my veins, the frustration that burned behind my eyes—it's all gone now. What's left is just... nothing. I'm too tired to care.
Too drained to fight.
I hear the guard walk by, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
He glances in through the small window on the door, and for a second, our eyes meet. But there's nothing to see here, nothing worth his attention.
He moves on, and I stay where I am, quiet, still. It's easier this way. Easier to just be what they expect—a good guy.
'Cause that's what I am.
At least I guess I was.
My mind drifts, unbidden, to thoughts of my father.
The man who put me here, one way or another.
I used to think I could escape him, that I could be more than just his son.
But now, sitting in this cell, I see how foolish that was.
I'm just another piece of his broken legacy, and no matter how far I run, I'll never be free of it.
Ever.
I take a slow, deep breath, but it doesn't help.
The air is stale, heavy, pressing down on me like a weight I can't shake off. The ache in my chest tightens, but there's no release.
No tears, no anger, just that emptiness swallowing me whole. I shift, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the cold floor offers no comfort.
The click of the cell door unlocking pulls me from the haze.
