9; No Matter What

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Amanda's POV

I avoided him the whole day, in fear he would start asking questions again. Why would he care though? Why should he care? Nobody does, so what makes him so special. What makes me so special to him? It just confusing.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted from avoiding Dustin and the only friend I had. I dumped my bag on my bed and closed the door, collapsing on my bed. I threw an arm over my eyes and started relaxing for the first time in ages. I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the bed.

The sound of a door opening and slamming was what brought me out of my sleep. Footsteps were muffled and my head was pounding as I stumbled out of bed and down to the kitchen, where I clumsily started making Tom dinner. I put a burger on a pan and turn the heat on while I get out a knife and some potatoes. I shake my head and try to blink sleep out of my eyes, trying to focus on cutting the blurry potatoes in front of me. The knife was shaking in my hand and I kept missing the potato.

"C'mon stupid knife. Cut the damn potato already." I muttered and tried again. The knife slipped across the surface of the potato and missed, instead hitting the closest thing to it.

My finger.

The knife cut easily through my skin, leaving a huge gash behind. Blood started pouring out and I shrieked in shock. The knife clattered to the ground and a wave of dizziness washed over me. I turned the faucet on and let the water soothe the cut, only to let out another shriek as hot water shot through and burned my finger. I pulled my finger back and turned the water to cold. I inspected the gash to find blood still gushing out of my now red finger. Tears clouded my vision and I jumped as an alarm went off. I looked at the oven to see smoke sifting through and quickly filling the air. A cry escaped my lips and I frantically searched for a fire extinguisher, finger forgotten.

White foam clashed with the grey smoke billowing out of the oven as I opened the oven and the extinguisher, putting out the small fire. By then, my shaking had gotten worst. The extinguisher dropped, letting out an echoing clang and my hand flew to my mouth. A sob broke out and I slid against the fridge and onto the floor, tears free falling down my face. My head dropped to my chest and I curled up into a ball, breaking down.

"Amanda?"

Why does he always show up at the worst times. I cried harder and scooted back farther against the fridge.

"Amanda!" He sounded panicked now and I heard the footsteps get faster, like he was running. "Amanda," he sighed.

I peeked up to see beat up black converse on the white tiles. I don't want to talk to you Dustin. Go away, I thought. Why can't he just leave me alone?

"Amanda," Dustin's voice came closer and I could feel him hovering above me. "Amanda, sweetheart, look at me." I heard him shift. "Amanda, look at me." Something touched my face.

"Don't touch me!" I sprang from my position and looked at him with scared eyes. "Don't touch me," I whispered, shaking like a leaf at the end of autumn.

Dustin's eyes were guarded and careful as he cautiously stepped towards me, hands in the air. Surrendering. "Amanda I'm not going to touch you. Just calm down. You're having an anxiety attack. Calm down and come here, I can help you-"

"But you can't!" I wailed and ran to the bathroom, locking the door. "No one can!"

His fist pounded on the door, not helping at all. "Amanda get out! Please! I want to help you, I can help you. Just tell me what's wrong!" He yelled, getting frustrated.

I shook my head, forgetting he couldn't see me. My eyes frantically searched around the bathroom to help me with the situation at hand until they landed on an object, making the rest of the world fade away.

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