DISCLAIMER!!
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This story is undergoing some editing and revamping. A few plots have been changed and some minor altercations that help with the flow of the story. Please do not be alarmed if a few things don't add up I wrote this at a...
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I sat at the edge of my newly owned day bed. The soft breeze coming from the balcony door gracing my exposed legs from beneath the soft blanket id wrapped around myself.
I sat with the blanket. I found it hidden deep inside the black slide doored wardrobe. Ive hardly slept at all. I had dark circles under my eyes from the continuous nightmares, those electric blue eyes embedded into my mind taunting me, teasing my sanity pushing it to convert. I could barely sleep. The menacing laugh would ring in my ears; the screams, cries and shrieks of mourning.
Harley had found my phone from when it was taken from me. She thought it'd help me gain some closure and talk to some friends so they wouldn't grow suspicious.
She made sure that everything was kept on it and that it hadn't been wiped or broken.
The familiar tinkle of my phone receiving a text message rung in my ears. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat as I stared at the notification.
2 new messages
JH: hey Quinny! I stopped by your house yesterday since you weren't coming the party to change your mind but you weren't in.
JH: hey Scar! How come you aren't answering? You didn't come in today? I told head office you were ill. If you are get well soon. I'll see you when you come back to school ;)
I let out s frustrated groan as I pulled the blanket further around myself. Jake had tried to gain contact with me since the night of the party. Before everything became a complicated mess.
How am I supposed to tell my best friend all of this. I can't exactly drop it gently upon him. I can't even hide the fact that I was a witness to my own aunts death. That I couldn't stop it. That I failed to help her.
Groaning out in frustration I dragged my hands down my face as I let my back relax letting me fall back into my messy pillows.
Grasping a hold of one I pulled it over my face groaning loudly into it, surprising the urge to relieve my lungs of the scream that it held deep within.
Why does everything have to be so complicated. I've stayed in Harley apartment for two days since that wretched night. I've hardly left my room at all.
To say I was in mourning was an understatement. I was loathing myself in self hate. I can't help but blame myself. The guilt strumming on my every nerve like the most skilled musician who's mastered their craft.
