Hidden Away (On Hold)

Chapter 3

This story is dedicated to strawberrycrayon because of the wonderful story ad she made me! :D 

HI THERE YOU WONDERFUL PERSON, who has stuck with me from Part 1 of the Prologue till now. LOL. Hopefully you'll stick with this story until... the cows come home?? XD anyways, hope you enjoy this... Even though it is one of the suckiest chapters ever.. WRITER'S BLOCK SUCKS. D: So yeahhh.. 

Be careful-- this chapter is is SOPHEILA'S POV. (Which seems to make people happy. I dunno why lol) 

SOO HOPE YOU ENJOY IT. AND NOTE!!! if you've voted on my earlier chapters, please do the same for the following ones. Please. If any of you are writers, you know how disappointing it is. :(

And a BIG Thank You to those who voted on each and every chapter. :D thank you so much! 

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No copyright infringement intended. :) 

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Sopheila's POV

My Leica Titanium camera always seemed to fit so perfectly in my hands: its strap comfortable on the nape of my neck. It felt like it belonged, like it fit in. Something I never seem to be able to do since Jeff's death. 

Jeff. At the mere thought of his name, many types of emotions bubbled up in me, and my heart clenched, as if a cold fist was wrapped around my centre of emotions, just waiting for a mention of my ex-boyfriend (does it count as an 'ex' if the person in question is dead?) to give my heart a firm squeeze. 

I had given my everything, my all. And then he went and just left me! After his death, I hadn't been capable to feel any emotion at all until his funeral. It was like a huge breakdown for me after seeing his casket being buried under layers of soil, never to be seen again. 

I had just kneeled in front of the grave and sobbed. I left before the headstone was put in though, and had returned home to cry some more. 

My parents had not been there for me that night. But then again, they never are. I had sobbed my heart out; the maids didn't dare to dare to disturb me. 

The day after the funeral, I had returned to the graveyard, my eyes red and puffy from crying. I thought I was 'fulfilling my duty as a loyal girlfriend'. 

However the moment I saw the headstone and the words engraved there, I felt sick like never before. I had wanted nothing more than to run off in the opposite direction as fast as possible.

Which, I'm ashamed to say, i did. 

I had skipped so many days of school, I never paid attention in class, nor did I do my homework or  school work. So it was no surprise that a mere month after Jeff's death, I was expelled. 

My parents were furious that I had, to quote, 'created more trouble for them', that I had gotten myself booted out from the most prestigious school they could find within driving distance. They pulled some strings and landed me a spot in J.Willeton High-- a school famous for churning out straight-A'ers. 

It appeared that everyone at my new school is obsessed with popularity. Even the 'loner kids'  longed to be in the popular group-- the so-called "Ivy League". And even the kids who called themselves 'emos' wanted to be, get this, popular emos.

Well, everyone but that silent boy who sits next to me in classes. According to the scrawled penmanship on the cover of his textbooks, his name was Jabez Evans.

I had found out that he was a legend in his freshman year-- straight-As, looks that girls loved and guys envied, a wonderful personality; in short, he was in the Ivy League. But then suddenly, he disappeared off the radar... He was a nobody. 

Why? I found myself wondering as I took my seat in the middle of the school bus-- the back seats were for those who thought they were hot stuff, the front was for those who considered themselves friends of the bus driver. 'Why would someone do that? How could it happen? 

He's really something, that's for sure-- What am I doing? I swore to never let myself get close with anyone anymore. It's just not worth the effort to have someone close to your heart. They'll only rip it to pieces in time, leaving you wounded. 

But this wouldn't be letting myself get close to anyone, right? I reasoned with myself. This is just... sleuthing. Harmless sleuthing. I wouldn't even have to get to know him-- I knew from experience just how much you could gather from the whispers that existed in every school, if you knew how to separate rumours from truths. 

Oh really? And then what?, a voice at the back of my head piped up. I frowned. I didn't like that voice, It was always telling me to let my defenses fly, to live my life as if Jeff had never died. 

And knowing that that voice was coming from my own self was not helping matters. Like always, I dealt with it the only way I knew how: I pushed the voice as far away as possible. It would be back, it always came back, but every second with it was a second closer to blowing my safe guards to smithereens. I always built up my defenses even more so after pushing the voice away. 

Like I was doing now. 

I sighed, and glanced out the window of the bus. I always felt so alone, but that was better than having my heart ripped to pieces. I alighted the bus as it pulled into my stop with my head down. 

On the sidewalk, I stayed there for a minute, pretending to be looking for something in my backpack. In reality, I was just stalling until the bus and the kids who came down with me left, before walking the remaining distance to my house. 

No need for everyone to know the place I lived in was a towering 5-storey Victorian mansion. No need for everyone to know that my parents were successful real-estate agents, Richard and Connie Sanders.

When people know things like that, it makes hiding too hard. 

Besides, I thought as I slid my key into the lock, it takes more than a fancy house to make a home. 

Not for the first time, I wondered why my parents purchased such a big house if they were never home. 

I went straight to my room-- or rather, my suite, and dumped my backpack on my desk. Thank goodness I had no assignments.

I flopped onto my bed without even changing or undressing and threw my arm over my eyes, effectively blocking out any light from my eyes.

I just lay there, not being able to sleep. I knew from experience that whatever sleep I got would be plagued by nightmares anyway.

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So that's the incredibly short Chapter 3! :( sorry for the length... i suck at planning how long a chapter should be or will be. :/ 

And sorry it's kinda crappy, as mentioned before, I had a case of writer's block when I wrote the original copy of this.. I tried to edit it as I went along, though. sigh. I actually write the beginning of this chapter THREE TIMES. SIGH. D:

Deserves a vote, don't you think? D: Please? Pretty please with a fresh cherry and ice cream and rainbow sprinkles? And chocolate syrup??? :) ( im getting hungry lol) 

VOTE FAN COMMENT. PLEASE.