Don't Burn Out (Currently Editing)

Five

"If my name were ouch, it would pain me to introduce myself. As it is now, I only find my name mildly tortuous."

                               ~ Jarod Kintz

After reading the note that Zayn left on his pillow I gently set it back down and take a minute to take surroundings. Then walked to the bathroom.

Three bottles labeled Pink Chiffon sit on the sink top along with mascara, Mint EOS, Revlon red lipstick, and some other toiletries, along with a coral and black tooth brush.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, something shiny grabs my attention.

Mother's necklace.

I untangled the precious string of gold from my hair and touch the smooth surface of the golden locket. Inside there was a picture of my five year old self, Mother, Daddy, and dear little Chanel.

That was the last picture we took together as a family before it all went to hell. Silent tears drip down my face.

Why where you taken away from me? Why couldn't you take me with you? Why was I left here alone? Why did I live? Why am I alive? Why?

'Breathe Tiffany,' Athena whimpers sensing I was very close to an anxiety attack.

I let out a small sigh.

On the grey day bed across from the shower two outfits lay:

A pair of denim shorts, a snap-back, and sweatshirt.

A grey crop top tank, Adidas joggers, and a denim button up.

I chose to wear the last outfit.

I pick at my curls waiting for the tub to fill. My was so dry, I'd have to ask Zayn to get me so coconut oil soon.

As the water nears the lip of the tub, I turn it off and slip in; taking note of the extreme size of the tub. I take note of the pink wash cloth and matching towel. He likely set those out for me since the rest of his towels and wash cloths are black.

Athena scrunches her wolfy face up at the color. She doesn't care for pink, neither do I really. Honestly, I prefer maroon or plum; but this is a nice pink it is not like Pepto-Bismol, it is more of a fuchsia or magenta color. I wash quickly to prevent my hair from frizzing.

Unplugging the bath, I watch as the water goes down the drain then I wrap the towel around myself to dry off before slipping the clothes on.

I squirt some toothpaste on the Zebra patterned toothbrush to brush my teeth then rinse my mouth and wash my face.

Then ran the EOS over my chapped lips as a base then applied the Revlon lipstick and run my fingers through my now frizzy, curls. I apply little eye makeup, just a cat eye and mascara. Then I spray a bit of body mist.

Now I have to go down stairs and see Harry..and Louis.. I chew at the inside of my cheeks as my blood goes cold.

'It's okay, Tiffany.'

No. It's not okay, Athena.

I grip the black stone at the sink, to stabilize my balance. I stare into the mirror and find a dark skinned girl with wild black curls and wide brown eyes.

"Please goddess, make this easier." She whispers, bowing her head. She rips her hands from the stone, and I feel my fingers leave the coolness of the black slate as well.

She turns away from the mirror, and it's not her I see but the door. My brain tells me to walk, to go downstairs; my legs don't get the memo.

I take a breath then command my legs to move, and they do.