I'm Gone But You're Still Here

Chapter 8

"Fuck, I'm going to be late..." Olive mumbled to herself, obviously pissed off. She'd woken up late, and had planned on meeting up with Valerie, for the 90th time this month. Olive spent lots of time with Valerie, after their lovely conversation at lunch about 6 months ago. Both Valerie and Olive had become fairly close with each other, or at least, close enough to where Olive was comfortable with her.

Olive's urges, although, hadn't been stopped. Nope, a girl couldn't simply cure Olive of her mental state, it didn't work like that. Olive did spend most of her time to "distract" herself though, yes, distract, Valerie was a distraction, and a good one at that.

"Ollie, it's fine, we'll just meet up later ok?" Valerie's voice was soothing as she cooed into the phone. The sudden nickname surprised Olive, confused and, flattered, almost. With a quick nod and a firm "Okay." Through the receiver,  she hung up, relieved. It could've been a good thing if Olive didn't have so much free time on her hands now. It was tempting, oh so tempting she could just feel the blood trickle- no. No, she thought, not today. On the other hand, though, the closest weapon was only a short distance, anything could satisfy this feeling.

Olive stopped attending her psychiatric appointments. The doctors were simply selfish bastards that merely wanted to feed her drugs that were supposed to "make the pain go away". If anything, they just gave her headaches and worsened the tendencies. Vomit was also a symptom of her various cocktails they brewed for her, not as effective as they thought. Instead of formally concluding her time with them, she ignored the frequent emails and post-its noting when her next visit was, and left them be. Now, she was stuck with piled up reminders and a cabinet full of useless medication.

As she sat in her dim room, lit by the opened blinds that shed the darkened light by the gloomy sky outside. It looked as if was going to rain, dark clouds covered the blazing sun. The feeling tingled inside her, as if it were a tic she could not suppress. She shook, her hands violently, as if they couldn't be controlled. Body as well, along with a cold sweat and a heart pumping so fast it was practically a trill of a drum. Breathing heavily in defeat, she stood up and stumbled to the kitchen, picking up her desired tool.

The walk to her spot was longer than usual, constant shaking and numerous stops were the cause of it. Once she was there, the shaking had subsided, for the most part. A victim in her sights, this time an injured bird. The thrill of a chase wouldn't be granted, but at least she wouldn't have to waste time running in a frigid rain.

A/N: I feel like it's going decently??? Ahh well, tell me what you thinK!!! Please, it means alOt!