Chapter One: Encounters In The Bathtub

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"Silence is the most powerful scream."

-Anonymous

It's hard to say exactly when it was that I started having real feelings for my best friend

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It's hard to say exactly when it was that I started having real feelings for my best friend. Perhaps it was from the start. Maybe as soon as I stared into his tawny hazel eyes, my heart began the endless journey of falling for him. Maybe it was one of the millions of times we sat in my room, laughing about anything and everything we could; when we'd look at each other and for that fraction of a second, it seemed as if our hearts beat as one. Maybe it was when we were talking about our future; planning everything out with great detail. We planned it all together; speaking of how we'd never be apart and how we'd live our lives as best friends always. Whichever the case, I couldn't remember a time when Walter Daniels wasn't on my mind; plaguing my every thought and tainting them with his smile and his voice and his perfect laugh.

As I sat on the itchy couch in a room full of partying people I'd never even met, I contemplated on just what my life had become and how the hell I'd ended up in a place that felt so cold and empty. I allowed my eyes to travel among the party of teenagers who danced drunkenly around without a care in the world. In that moment, I realized that yet again, my best friend had left me alone in a place so completely foreign, that I didn't even know how to force myself to at least get up and attempt to salvage the small bit of pride I had left by speaking to someone. Anyone. 

Gripping the red Dixie cup full of an untouched mixed drink in my hands, I looked around once again, my eyes catching upon a couple in the corner making out. They grasped each other as if their lives depended on it; as if one was drowning and the other was the only source of oxygen left. How very mocking it was that I was drowning in my own emotions, and the one person I wanted to help drag me out, had left me sitting here on an uncomfortable couch for a busty redhead with curves that made me feel completely meaningless with my own skinny body that held no real definition. By now, the feeling of not being enough felt like an old friend. I'd learned already how it's merciless hands held me in a firm grip that made me feel as if I was suffocating. 

Just as I'm about to pull myself from the couch and find some source of entertainment until I'd caught sight of Walter again, a heavy weight from next to me causes me to look over. A boy about my age with the biggest hands I'd ever seen plopped down a mere few inches away. He might have been a bit attractive if it weren't for the lipstick-at least I hoped it was lipstick-stains on the collar of his tacky Letterman jacket, or the I'm-half-dead-because-I'm-so-drunk look plastered all over his sweaty face.

It almost takes too much effort to keep myself from losing the dinner I'd eaten just hours before when he leans over towards me and his rancid breath fills my nostrils. 

Okay, scratch that; definitely no longer capable of being attractive.

"Why are you sitting all by yourself, sweetheart?" He slurs, leaning so close that I have to shift slightly away to avoid catching a pair of lips to the face.

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 19, 2020 ⏰

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