Waiting

Chapter 1

968 days since the incident

I looked at myself in the mirror, not quite satisfied. Like I would ever be. I sighed and threw the bag over my shoulder. Lana would be here soon. I was 23 years old, and still depending on my bestfriend and my mother. I could cry, but I was so tired of it, and I had worked pretty hard on my makeup, certainly not to screw it up just a few seconds later.

After the incident I hadn't been capable of attending to normal school. The anxiety and low self esteem he had ended up leaving for me made everything seem impossible. I only took a few classes, and only on my own, with a teacher checking in on me regularly, and even that stressed the hell out me. I lived with my parents and they were pretty much the only people I met, if you don't count Lana and... some other. I had a hard time concentrate, but hated to just sit still without doing anything, so Lana dragged me into something I wouldn't even dare to think of. You see, I'm a model. Not one of these superglamouros, Victoria Secret's, famous ones, the model career is way more complex than that. I don't have many opportunities and jobs, but if something comes up, I gladly accept it. If Lana had told me to start a modelcareer right now, I would have denied it, terrified of other people seeing me. But Lana forced me into it just a few weeks after the incident, when I was to weak to speak against anybody and so angry that to do something like that felt like the right thing. It was crazy, nothing like me and perfect way of showing that I was okay, yes, even better off without him. I don't know what I wanted to prove, I hadn't met him since that night, I don't even recall his name, which everybody thinks is a good thing.

My mother knocked carefully at my door. "Blake, love, are you ready?" She didn't enter, knew everything she did could be catastrophical if it was the wrong thing. I could getting a panicattack out the the slightest things, such as she walking in on my in my underwear. The only time I felt really comfortable was in front of the camera, when somebody told me what I should do. I would never do anything revealing, and they never forced me to, simply went to somebody else who was more desperate for some attention or more comfortable with such. I loved doing model jobs for tiny businesses, but if something bigger came up, like a billboard, I was the first one to say no thank you.

My sweatpants and hoodie covered me up for the rest of the world. Lana, as always, looked fresh as fuck in a tiny skirt and a white jumper. She waved at me, excited. Lana was an angel in human form, I was sure of it. She would always smile, tell lame jokes and pick you straight it of the mud. And she stayed by my side when I lost everyone else. A few days after the incident I stopped speaking. The anger inside me had worked as fuel for my fire, but then Ingot my first panicattack and stopped hanging out with anybody. I barely said a word, never replied to anything and locked myself in my room. Lana was the only one who didn't stop calling, and when she thought I had more than enough time to suffer, she dragged me right out of the house and straight to the bureau, which another one of her friends worked. I needed some time to get comfortable with it, but she gave me something to live for, and I was so grateful and surprised for the fact that she still wanted to be my friend that I, after a week or so of thinking, accepted the idea of me as a model.

"What course do you have today?" Lana said, chitchatting. I shook my shoulders, before letting out a gigantic yawn. "Literature, I think. With ms. Letterman, that old hag", Lana laughed, as she always did. Yep, she was truly too good for me.

The day passed by, as smoothly as I could hope for. I didn't enjoy school very much, but I was a hard worker, and every inch of me was grateful for something else to think of.  Lana drove me home (I have no idea how she managed to clear some space in her busy schedule, as she was both attending to university, having a part-time job at the cafe at the corner and a lovely boyfriend named Mark, which was the cutest creature to walk on the surface of the Earth, I'm sure if it. Beside all of this she had handle me and all of my problems, yet she never complained. Well, except when I threw up in her car a few months ago. But she forgave me, so... I guess I don't deserve her at all.

My father was sitting in a chair outside the house, reading a book. I sat down in front of him and felt the sun warm my back. "How was your day?" He said. It was the same procedure every day. I nodded him, meaning it was okay. He smiled and fell back into the book. It was okay, nowadays I preferred the silence over any other sort of company.

Later, around the dining table, we kept up the formal, usual questions. How did work go, how was their day, did I met someone new, was Lana nice to me. We always did this, we knew all the questions and all the answers. When I had enough of it, I thanked for the food, before leaving the table. I didn't expect my mother to speak up to me, that had never happened before. "Blake, love, we need to talk. Please sit down". I could hear from her voice that something wasn't as it should be. "Blake, you have cut everybody out of your life, you don't let anybody in, you always do things you want to, but you don't want to do anything. When are you going to start to dare again?" My mother looked at me, and to my surprise she had teared up. "I know you will hate me, but you don't really care anymore. And if you hate me, at least you will live a worthy life again. I can't stand watching you live like this, you're more like a sleepwalker than someone who's actually awake and doing what they enjoy. You need to push your limits, but you stopped with that a long time ago and build a fence around what you thought was safe. I cannot let my only daughter regret her life when she realises who much it is worth. Your management called today. You have a job, because I accepted it on your behalf. And they were surprised. That's not a good thing, Blake, people being surprised because you are doing something. I don't care if you hate me now, or if you hate forever, but right now you can't stay here. It doesn't give you any good, and us neither. You are suffering, and you force us to suffer with you, because you deny to move on. This cannot keep on. You'll have to pack your stuff and meet at the modelbureau the first thing tomorrow. Go out and be young and have fun and be happy". "Yeah, if just was that easy!" I wanted to scream at her. Did she thinker that I wanted to be like this? My face was probably all red, both in shame and anger, and I was on the edge of blurting out in tears. If they only knew...