Genevieve Anderson, the girl that had been left behind and forgotten.
In a town where everybody knows everybody, meaning that no one goes unnoticed. Nobody just grabs a bag and leaves in the middle of the night, without someone seeing something. No...
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Chapter Twenty seven - present
"I don't understand why you dedicated so much time to coming to find me. You risked your life, just to be with me. I don't understand why someone like you, would do something like that, for someone like me. I'm just plain old me and you are you"
Awakening in the early hours of the morning, I took a shuttering breath in. I didn't move from my curled form in the bed that wasn't the one I had slept in the night before, just lay there. It felt weird, not having to race to get up and check on the house. I wasn't lying on the floor underneath my bed, shaking, as I awaited my father to check my room, only to find that I wouldn't be there,
That was what had plagued my sleep last night. Every time I would evade him, it would restart and lead me back to what could have been. What could have happened if he had caught me that time or if he didn't turn that corner but turned this corner instead. It was always the what ifs that had always plagued me after, that seemed to start to come to fruition, until I had somehow woken myself up.
I knew that I had been vulnerable last night, asking for my teddy and allowing Miles to carry me. I had caved right in front of their faces, and they hadn't said anything. They hadn't said anything last night, but I knew the questions would come. I knew the concerned and pitying faces would come today. The day after a bad panic attack, which usually came at night time, were usually the worst.
And now, having to pretend like everything was more than okay, and that I could hold my own, was going to be even harder than it was when they had first showed up. It was harder now, because they knew. They knew something was up. It was like a story was unravelling right in front of their faces, as they watched my crumble.
I couldn't stop the free fall of tears trail down my face as I thought about it all. I knew that Miles was hurt, especially from the shouting that I had heard last night. I didn't want to say anything, but it had made the entire night worse. I had heard what Rocky had said about me. He had slandered Miles about the NFL posts that he had nothing to do with anymore.
He then went on to bring me down to his level as well, by saying that my panic attacks were stupid and that I was asking for him to ask me if I was okay. I knew he wouldn't. He never had. He also went on to mock how when my panic attacks occur, that people can't breathe, and I couldn't. Last night I couldn't breathe because my oldest brother had reminded me of my own father.
The same father that had terrorized me since the day I knew how to spell the word terrorized. I knew how to spell before I could even walk. You do the math. You tell me how by having much older siblings, that people believed you were the child, that you were able to set the curve. You tell me how my entire childhood was stripped because people were trying to figure out how you had grown up so early on in life.
