That Girl With Pigtails

Chapter 8: Walls

(PICTURE ON THE SIDE IS NIXON)

Chapter 8: Walls
Roni's Point Of View

I'm gonna break down these walls, (down these walls) I built around myself.

I wanna fall so in love (so in love), with you, and no one else,

Could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now.

Together we'll move on, just don't turn around,
Let the walls break down

~~~~~

I woke up in Jack's arms, wearing just his Blink-182 shirt and a pair of my black boxers. He was still asleep; a cute little grin was gracing his adorable face. Black hair stuck out in odd directions from his head. The blonde streak in the middle was pressed up against his forehead. I smile slightly as I hear his soft snores. His eyes open halfway as I turn my head so that I face him fully. Jack smiles wider and closes his eyes again.

"Jack?" I ask, not sure what time it was.
"Yeah?" He yawns, eyes still closed.
"What time is it?" I question.
"Time for the pretty girl to go to sleep next to the guitarist of All Time Low." Jack answers with a smile.
"Then I have to stay awake." I mumble, unraveling my arms from his neck and folding them behind my head.
"Why do you have to stay awake?" He wonders.
"Because you said time for the pretty girl to sleep." I whisper softly.

I imagine myself in a small room. Its walls were built as far up as I could see. They were made of grey painted bricks. Each said a hurtful word. Worthless, fat, bitch, slut, cunt, emo, cutter, whore, Goth, fuck face, etc. Then there was a loud cracking noise. I saw a crack forming as the distance between walls and I became smaller and smaller. A tiny piece of stone fell to the ground. 

That gives me an idea, an idea for a song actually. I sit up, making Jack open his eyes. I meet his dark brown gaze. I smile reassuringly at him and clap. My lights flicker on, and I get out of my canopy bed. I walk over to my bookshelf and scan the books on it, looking for a certain one. It was a hardcover red book, a diary with a gold heart lock on it. Once I find it, I carefully pull it out, and then walk over to my beanbag. 

I get down on all fours, lifting up a corner of the giant chair and pull back the little square of carpet I cut out. Underneath the carpet square was a small opening, the size of my pinkie. I stick my pinkie in and bend it, forming a U-shape; picking up the wood I finally am able to get to the small hollowed out cubby hole in the floor. Inside it was everything I had that was important to me. 

There was a wooden box inside, the size of a CD case- inside the box were my blades. All 61 of them. But that's not what I wanted at the moment. I pull the box out and sit it next to me. The next thing I spot was a small photo-album, filled with pictures from over the years. I don't need that right now so I take it out and sit it beside the wooden box. Underneath the place where the photo-album was laid a locket. The inside of it was an inscription that said: Flutter with the Butterflies in neat and old-fashioned lettering. Next to the locket was a small gold key. That's what I needed! 

I slide it out and sit it to my left, the opposite side that everything else was on. Soon I was putting the beanbag back over the carpet square. I pick up the key and walk over to where I kept my pens, which happed to be in my bedside drawer. 

I crawl into the bed and grab a pen, the diary and the key. Jack wraps his arms around me. I unlock the diary and click! goes the pen as my thumb presses down on it. I open the diary and Jack looks at me questioningly.