Phoenix

F o u r

"I learn from my own daughter that you don't have to be awake to cry."
~Jodi Picoult

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The mall isn't very packed, which I am highly grateful for, don't like big crowds of people. Ok so, I need decorations, obviously. Uhhh clothes, food, definitely can't forget that. Everything's gonna get shipped to the house. Good, I don't have to worry about dragging shit to my car.

While I'm at the mall I met this girl named Riley and I made sure to keep any (oh how many there was) snarky sarcastic comments to myself. She said she was in the same grade as me and that the high school was really nice here. She said everyone was nice and easy to talk too. Smell that, yeah me too. Smells like bullshit. That it was a small town, everyone knew everyone. It was like a huge apartment building. So she knew I wasn't from around here. I told her I'd just moved here from L.A. to get a fresh start somewhere new. When she asked about my parents I told her they were back in California staying there for work. I didn't want anyone to know about what happened them. I really didn't need anymore pity and frankly it wasn't anyone's business.

Finally finished. God that took forever. I think I'm gonna try to find a local coffee shop to grab some tea (I wasn't a big fan of coffee) and a croissant. The cool air that hit my face as I walk into the shop was like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.

The only sound that could really be heard is the soft playing of indie music in the background and the low chit chat of the customers. Other then that it's relatively silent. I stood in the short line waiting to place my order when I feel a pair of eyes boring into the side of my face.

I turn in the direction and saw a guy staring at me. He had a hat on that casted a shadow over his face. He wore tight black skinny jeans and a black sweater. His demeanor screams danger and caution, but I didn't back down. Two could play at this game. So I stared -no- I glared right back. I was never to keen on people staring at me.

I stared right into his eyes not once looking away. Anyone would've thought we were have a friendly no blinking contest from across the cafe but this wasn't the case. Realizing I wasn't going to look away in angst, he turned his gaze toward the door, slowly walking away, not breaking eye contact even once and left.
Shortly after that I place my order, received my food and left.

I get home in 40 minutes. The mini truck that has the stuff I bought in it is sitting at the edge of the forest. The driver and a couple workers are standing by the truck with looks of utter confusion and frustration. I tell him to follow me to the house and that my house was hard to find because it was a few miles deep in the forest. I really didn't mind that though I really enjoy the privacy.

While I put the groceries away the workers unload the truck and set everything in the living room. Quickly soon after they left.

About an hour later I finish putting everything in it's rightful place. I grab the laptop from my counter and ran up stairs to my room. I lay down in bed turning on the T.V. Opening the laptop I went to the schools website and enrolled myself. They email me my schedule and a school map. The school wasn't big so it was easy to memorize the map. I was actually considering home school because I really didn't want to go back to school but I had to suck it up. I wasn't going to deprive myself of human interaction just because I was feeling sorry for myself.

I stood up and went to take a shower and brush my teeth. I strip out of my clothes and toss them in the laundry basket. I look in the mirror and turn around. My hands graze my skin, running over the bumps and hard ridges. The scars litter my body like splattered paint. There was only a few on my arms and legs most of them were around my waist and the middle of my back.

I step into the shower and let the hot water roll off my back and ease the tension in my muscles. I pick up the 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and pour it on my hair. Massaging it from my scalp to the ends of my black hair. I always found my hair color strange. There was no such thing as being born with black hair, or so I was told. Anyone with black hair, it's either dyed black or a really deep brown. Yet here I am with pitch black hair, it actually looks like it was dyed.

I rinse off the shampoo and body wash I step out of the shower. I wrap a towel around myself and walk into my closet. I throw on some sweats and a sports bra and went back to bed.

This is probably the thing I hate more then human interaction. Sleep. All day I dread going to sleep because I know the bloody images and piercing screams are going to plague my dreams and turn them into nightmares.

They're going to grab me by the throat and squeeze until I feel completely suffocated with guilt about what happened. Until I blame myself for everything single detail and carve it into my brain.

Yet I can't stop it.
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"No one blames her."
"That never matters, not when you blame yourself."
~Cassandra Clare