18. Bonfire. Pt 1.

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"I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out."

- Ally Carter

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I sat in English the next day still in shock after what Camila had told me. Noah threatened her with Angelo's life, what kind of monster does that? I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, the only person I knew who could handle this situation couldn't be told, not like I would want to talk to him anyway. I thought about going to Rylan or even Rose but I'm not sure how much good it would do, it would just put them in danger. Even if we did somehow stop Noah who's to say another one of his guys would start where he left off?

But I couldn't sit around and let Camila be punching bag either. I remember her saying that Noah wasn't going to stop sending people after me and from what I saw the other night I believed her. I was terrified to leave my room and I constantly felt like I was being watched. Axel said I should tell Samantha that I can't take the job, which I considered doing, but then I remember it was Axel who said it and instantly disagreed.

If I get enough money I could buy a plane ticket back to New York, sure I'll be homeless but at least I wouldn't have to worry about gangs or looking over my shoulder everywhere I go.

Mrs. Porter was rambling about some literature assignment that was due next week. I tried paying attention to her but between everything that was going on in my head and the intense stare that I knew was coming from Axel, I couldn't really concentrate.

I knew that the unwavering stare was coming for him because for the past day that's all he has been doing. It's quite creepy really. I could tell he has been stepping on eggshells around me ever since he read my journal. He probably didn't know if I was going to scream at him or break down in tears. The truth is I could yell at Axel until I was red in the face but it would do no good, the damage is done, I was never one to cry over spilled milk.

Unless it was chocolate.

Now that Axel has read my journal he's acting differently around me now, he asks me if I need rides to school or if I want him to wait in my room until I fall asleep. Of course, I decline and tell him to leave me alone but that doesn't stop him from acting like I'm fine china or something. It honestly makes me feel worse, I don't need his or anybody's else pity. I didn't write those things down for attention or to show off how miserable my life was.

I psychically cringed thinking about the things Axel most had read in that book. I'll admit some things in that journal are a little over dramatic even though they're all true events but I guess when you're that sad, no inconvenience is a minor inconvenience. When it's one disaster after another you stop looking at it as a bad day but more as the world is out to get you. I remember waking up most days feeling so sad that I forgot what it's like not to be and now thinking back on it, isn't that the sad part?

From the age of seven, all the way until I was fifteen was when I shrugged the most with my panic attacks, at first it was over normal things people were nervous about like public speaking, meeting new people or even the dark. But slowly and surely the triggers were over smaller events like people looking at me for a millisecond too long, people raising their voices even if it was direct towards me or even what I was going to have for dinner that night. I felt like I was fighting for my life every day, my seven year old self didn't know then how to control my breathing or not to focus on the constricting of my rib cage.

I wanted to ask what was happening to me but I learned at young age that just because somethings happen doesn't mean we talk about it. It might make someone uncomfortable. I also learned at a young age to not have compassion for anyone that doesn't outrage.

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