I can't change who I am...and I don't want to.

Chapter 2 - Judging someone

If you lie,

Soon enough you will have to tell the truth.

About lying.

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I have tried before to act as if I was just a normal teenager. It’s harder than it looks, trust me. Then again you have to earn trust. Nothing these days comes free.

His voice was so beautiful it made my heart do flips inside. Even though we are still practically strangers, something about him just makes me feel like he’s been right by my side all the way through my...my issues. I had to make an impression.

Grabbing on a small lace dress, making me look like a ballerina I slipped on my combat boots and some ripped tights. My mother never bought me new clothes, since I never really went out. The dress was a birthday present last year; it was so comfortable I could sleep in it. My combat boots have been mine as long as I can remember, they were tattered and torn around the souls but they showed my personality through them. Running a brush through my hair giving me loose curls, I tried to smile into the mirror. Looking nothing more than a complete loser. But it would have to do.

A knock at the door an hour later signalled his return. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I grabbed my brown leather jacket. It wasn’t real. My crazy mad biker of an aunt had given it to me a few years back. She said it’s warm enough to look cute, and hide my imperfections. By that she meant my cuts.  I’m not afraid to admit that I would do self harm nonstop. Well admit it to me at least, to a stranger it would almost feel like the words would suffocate me as they tried to reach the surface; drowning in my humiliation.

He stood there in the same clothes he was wearing earlier, blue jacket over a black T and black jeans that made him look even taller. I am not small, but I am nowhere near tall either. Just average.

“Be safe.” My mother’s hands were gripping my shoulders, looking me deeply into the eyes. It was as if she was trying to erase who I was. Handing me a cool plastic shaped object; I looked down to see a mobile phone in my hand.

“What? A mobile phone?”

“My number is the only one in there, if anything should happen call me straight away.” I now realised she was also speaking to the boy. There was something we could talk about, his name.

“Yes.” We said synchronized.

“Ok then.” Her lips pressed against my forehead, which was a sign that it was time to leave the house.

When I stepped out the house I couldn’t stop myself from shaking and tripping down the steps a little. His arms were around me, holding me up from falling again. From falling the same way I had that night. 

“Are you ok?” Sympathy was flowing out of his mouth. My heart was racing but gently it slowed into an even pace, I could do this. I was sixteen for crying out loud. Not a baby.

“I’m fine...stranger.” Looking away blushing I waved to my mother who looked like she was crying from the window. She was crying? What about me? Girl who has dealt with agoraphobia for almost four years here...  As we walked down the stony lane by my house we came out into an opening. It consisted of only a few people, which was a relief. Shops were tightly packed around the edges of it.

“Stranger am I? The names Cole.” Cole. Perfect.

“Uhh, that’s a nice name?” He chuckled as he moved my body away from the road. Most probably he was scared I would fall into it, even though there were no cars or lorries at all. Still better safe than sorry.

“Is it now?” Smiling at me he walked closer our arms touching. Quickly I changed the subject, a noise faintly growing in my ear, just like the night of my first panic attack. Please not now, not here.  I simply nodded to his question, leaving him curious.