Yours Truly ❁ n.k.h

• chapter two •

I've been awake for thirty six hours now, and what started as a feeling of just wanting to run is now turning into never having felt so... low.

You hurt me, but I left you when you needed me most. How am I any better than you?

There was just so much glass, and blood, and screaming and crying and I couldn't take it, I just can't. No one prepared me for this. Every single time I see or hear a siren, I feel like my throat is gonna close up. I feel like they're coming for me, I feel like the bad guy and I don't even know if I should. I just can't escape it, I can't escape this, and I want to. I want it to be over.

But I'm trying to do what my old therapist taught me. Start small. Five things you see, four things you feel, three things you hear, two things you smell, one thing you taste.

So right now, I'm looking at the store front of some convenience store. It has a yellow banner, there's a cigarette butt by the door, there's a sign that says 24/7 in blue, and there's a streetlight beaming overhead.

Store, banner, cigarette, sign, streetlight. Yeah, five things.

In my hands, I feel my pen, and the bus route guide I've been writing on. I can also feel my clothes sticking to my skin, still a little damp from the rain a few hours ago. And I can feel my jaw hurting from me unclenching it just now.

Would it be so bad if I skipped to what I could smell? Because for some reason I can smell coffee and my stomach is rumbling. I've been having little snacks here and there but I'm running out of cash. I think I'm gonna set up a new account when I find a bank around here somewhere.

I lifted my pen, stuffing it and the bus guide into my pocket without a further thought. I had maybe seventeen dollars left to my name minus the loose change in my pocket, and I was gonna use it to buy a new charger and a snack if I had anything leftover.

I opened the door to the convenience store, stepping under the dim lighting. The blue and yellow tiles on the floor reminded me of home for a minute, but the shop was stock silent save for the bell letting the owner know someone walked in. He was a heavyset man with beady eyes.

I nodded at him in greeting before ducking over to a side of the store where I could see miscellaneous items in the distance. There was rows of shit like Ajax, pipe cleaners, dishwashing gloves— it felt like the world's worst clearance aisle. I sifted my hand through it a few times until a pink USB cable jutted out of the mess. A small smile made its way to my lips. I wrapped around the bend, pink charger in hand, now in search of the snacks. A honeybun felt like the best thing to suffice for now, plus it was probably all I could afford.

A dollar? Who the fuck charges a dollar for honeybuns? Was I really that hungry to pay a dollar for some damn honeybuns?

As if I needed confirmation, I felt a swell in my stomach, answering for me.

Whatever. I'll make it back.

I grabbed the honeybun in my hand and put it on the counter
with the USB cable.

"How much is that?" My voice was raw from barely using it in the past day or so. The silence has never felt so good.

The man huffed, crunching a few numbers into the register. "$14.33."

"How much is that?" I pointed at the charger.