The Forgotten One

Chapter 13 - Sunshine & Caramels

Author's Note: Yup. This shits going at the top today because why tf not. So this is the next update for TFO and it's actually not too bad if I do say so myself XD Please comment, vote, like, share, etc, etc, etc and SOMEONE PLEASE INBOX ME IN TERMS OF PLOT COZ I DON'T KNOW WHERE I'M GONNA GO WITH THIS. IDEAS WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

Until next time,

GladerGirl621 xx

"How's she doing?" Caroline asks me, settling herself against the end of my mattress.

I glance up from my homework, which I had finally caught up with.

"Yeah she's doing great. Much better now," I reply, then bury my face back into the depths of the Cold War.

Willow had returned home, and I had just been praying that everything was alright. With her family, herself, the... zombies. I had tried calling but it had always gone to voicemail and my worry had increased.

We weren't an official couple as of yet; we had decided that we wanted to go on a few dates if possible, get to know each other more before we rushed into anything too soon. So far, I hadn't received any calls from her.

My own wellbeing had never really come into the picture after Willow was released, even when I got the hell beaten out of me for being away from home. I'm surprised father hadn't brought out the wrench for that one; it was only the baseball bat this time. I found out later that Caro and Milla had told father I had been on a school camp; all costs had already been paid for. He believed it, the stupid bastard. He only bashed me for not telling him.

Milla and Caro had also sported a few cuts and bruises when I returned, and I internally kicked myself for being so idiotic and selfish. How could I have left them alone with him? For even a second? I spent the next week completely tending to my sisters and sleeping beside them, feeling horrible and worthless about myself.

Selfish yet again.

The past couple of weeks since Willow's recovery had been a total roller-coaster of emotions, and they're becoming annoying little itches that just won't go away.

As for Ankh, well we hadn't called the number yet. I just hoped he hadn't forgotten about us.

Back in the present, I sense rather than see Caro roll her eyes, and she yanks my history textbook away from me.

"Hey!" I exclaim, poking my pencil into her knee. She barely flinches and throws the book across the room, the thick pages landing with a thump against the opposite wall.

"What's all this about? I answered your question!"

She folds her hands into her lap daintily, ironic considering she had just hurled a book into a wall. "No, you didn't," is her response.

Sighing after a moment, I reluctantly put my pencil down and mimic her hand movements, studying her face wearily.

"She's fine, Caro. She's healing well and the doctor has given her the all goods. Now she's at home and she's probably doing something as mundane as homework. Just as I am now," I finish lamely, not really even convinced of my own words.

Caro isn't buying it either. She grabs my resting hands with her own and grips them tightly. Her gold eyes burn holes into my face. I can feel them.

"River, what's been going on with you lately? Willow's safe and okay, you've caught up at school and Aston is somewhere better now," she says and I try my hardest not to wince at the mention of Aston. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

It's quite amazing how after you've been compartmentalizing so much, even the slightest mention of one of the things you've shut away can ruin your day and make you depressed. You feel like you haven't got control anymore. You feel like crying. You feel like screaming. You feel like the entire weight of the world is on your shoulders, and that soon you're going to crumble.