why you? | h.s.

two

avery

i've been in my room for three weeks. three fūcking weeks. i usually come out for food or whenever my roommate isn't around so she won't have to drag me out of here.

"ave, i swear to god-" my roommate also known as cami drags me by my left foot but i hold on to the end of my bed.

"cam, i assure you, i'm a hundred percent fine, please i just wanna stay home." i lie and loudly complain hiding in my pillows.

"avery, i'm sure as hell that you are not a hundred percent fine!" cami continues to argue.

"i am, okay! just leave me be, i appreciate you doing this but i-"

"if you don't get out now, when will you? avery, i'm your best friend. i know you're still hurting about h-harry and he meant a lot to you, i mean for fūcks sake, imagine being in a two and a half year relationship with someone you love with all your heart and you think they're the one for you but in fact it's all bullshįt, i just really want you to get out and stop rotting here." she sighed.

"oh," i sit up and swallow. her words hit me like a brick, it hurt so bad but it was true anyways. i try my best to hold back the tears but as soon as i sniff loudly cami stiffens and sits beside me and starts comforting me.

"i-i'm sorry, ave, i just-"

"no, please don't apologize. it's true anyways." i look up to her slowly and give her a sad reassuring smile and she gives me a hug, i snake my arm around her back and she let go then she starts to wipes the tears that rolled down my cheeks away with her thumb.

cami left me in silence and after thinking through it i debate wether or not i want to go out.

i change into better clothes and decide to go out, maybe this is progress. i look at the mirror and god my eyes looked red from crying and the dark circkes under it wasn't helping either. i put on my sunglasses and head downstairs, cami looks up at me shocked but smiles reassuringly.

"took you long enough," she breathed out.

"can we just take a walk? i don't wanna go too far." i spoke and cami agrees.

–

"until here," i inform the stylist as i put my hand on my collarbone indicating until where i want my hair to be.

somehow i ended up getting a haircut because cami apparently had a manicure appointment and here i am.

maybe this is a new start. progress.

as the stylist cuts away a few strands of hair my breath sharpens and i start becoming anxious.

"don't be too scared, love. i promise it'll look good," the stylist reassures probably noticing how nervous i was.

"i hope so." i politely say.

after minutes which seemed like hours of me sitting still, scorching hot air coming from the blow dryer, and itchy strands of hair coming in contact with my face, i stand up and stretch my legs and check the mirror. i'm satisfied with my hair and i didn't expect it to look decent. my brown hair
now shorter and straighter because of the blow dry session. taking one last look at the full sized mirror cami and i left with me thanking the stylist and tipping her as well.