Chapter Thirty-two

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A/N~ I'm back! Hope you enjoy the chapter, I listened to 'So Cold' by Ben Cocks while writing if anyone was wondering :P

A/N~ I'm back! Hope you enjoy the chapter, I listened to 'So Cold' by Ben Cocks while writing if anyone was wondering :P

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A couple of hours later, we were wandering the emptying streets once more. Now Enoch had a permanent memento of his time in the present. I was still so nervous about him being here. What if I turn away, and when I look back, he's just dust? However, he didn't seem half as bothered by the threat of ageing forward.

I didn't know what time it was yet, but I was pretty sure we had some time before I we had to go back and get ready for the funeral. Stop thinking about it. There was a bench outside a diner that was vacant, so we both sat down without a word. Enoch quickly broke the short silence.

"Why do you hate them? Your parents, I mean." He asked, his accent more pronounced than usual.

I exhaled slowly. Where do I start. "They were never parents. Parents drive you to school, and ask you how your day was. They make you dinner, and help you with your homework. Mine never did that stuff." I paused, realising I was clenching my fists again.

"So I did what any teenager does for attention, I snuck out, broke things, shouted. In return, they sent me to therapy twice a week, and prescribed me pills to make me 'feel better'." My voice was wavering now, my knuckles were white.

"And you took them? The pills?" He asked quietly.

I remember how I felt back then so vividly, it was scary. I remembered every time I was handed a box of them, painkillers, antipsychotics, anything under the sun that could make a difference in how I acted.

"Not at first. I thought that there was no way that- whatever was meant to help me- was packed into those tiny things. It couldn't be. It wasn't as simple as that. Then I went back to school, and I cried. I was just sitting, in class, and I just cried. There was no reason, It just happened. Except, it wasn't like on TV, no one gave me a tissue, or asked me what was wrong. Because no one had a conversation with me before then, so they sure as hell weren't going to talk to me now. After that, I went back to the pills. Because I wanted to change myself so badly, I thought if I changed, everything else would get better." I sniffed, quickly wiping a salty drop from my cheek.

Why did I tell him that? Of course he didn't want to hear that. As another tear fell from the end of my nose, something cold hit the top of head, then my shoulder, then it was raining. The grey fleecy clouds were emptying over the town, and I was pretty sure it was my fault.

"I stopped though. It was easier to just say I was fine." I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stop it quivering. I was not upset. I was not upset. Looking up at the sky, I growled. I really couldn't get one thing right.

...

It was almost five. We'd managed to get back into my house without my parents exiting their office, they had the door closed like usual. Our clothes were damp with the rain I'd caused, but was unable to stop. I closed the door to my room behind us, clicking on the lights. Digging out a black dress with white collar, I excused myself to the small ensuite bathroom connected to my bedroom. I laid the dress over the towel rack, before pausing. I was so embarrassed, I told Enoch all of that. How pathetic. Now he must really think there was something wrong with me.

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