Like A Bad Boy

~Chapter Eighteen~

            What does it mean to be pretty? Maybe it means something different to everyone. It could mean a pretty face or a pretty heart. Does it mean what you want it to or how the person that has said it intended it to? If you asked a million people you’d probably get a million different responses.

            The world perceives the world differently in so many ways. There’s not a way to pinpoint a source or to find the truth, because there’s so many different ways it could be interpreted.

            Feelings are the same way. A million feelings were just swirling around in my head. You’d see me crying one minute and laughing the next. It was a mess.

            The weight on my chest was what was worse. The constant feeling of needing a hug followed me, but I had no one I could turn to. I didn’t want to see anyone except the one I knew I couldn’t see. Depression is this way, I suppose, where is just is such a heavy weight on your chest. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide. Facing it head on was my only option.

            Days trudged on and I barely left my room. Nobody bothered me; nobody dared to defy my mood or lack of attending school. I was broken.

            My parents arrived home a few days before the dreaded vacation. Horribly enough I was denied any sympathy in terms of the trip. Anything and everything had been tried to worm my way out of it, but no such luck. All throughout the trip, I intended to remain in my room. There was no way I could face him.         

            As of now, I was laying on my bed with my hair sprawled everywhere, doing anything but packing. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Besides the fact that we were leaving in two hours, I was fine without packing. The old me would be ripping her hair out at the fact that I had two hours to gather my things, but the new one couldn’t care less.

            “Indiana!” My mother barked, storming into my room. Her eyes were locked with the empty suitcase on my floor. “Are you not packed?” She was fuming.

            “No,” I blandly stated. My eyes were locked with the ceiling; I didn’t even bother looking at her.

            “You will be packed in an hour or else,” She tried, only to have me scoff.

            “Or else what?” I countered. “Or else I can’t go on the trip?”

            “Or else you’ll share a room with Blane,” Apparently she had picked up on things since she’d been home. A sharp breath left my mouth.

            “Fine,” I snapped. Abruptly, I stood up and ushered her out of my room. She was reluctantly to leave.

            Clothes were strewn carelessly into my suitcase as sad songs played through the speakers of my radio. More sighs had left my lungs than ever before in the past couples of days. It was dreadful.

            An hour and a half later, my suitcase was stuffed to the brim with items that could entertain me for the entirety of the trip. Anything to make sure I wouldn’t face human confrontation.

            Dreadfully, I dragged my bag out of my room. There wasn’t any way I could possibly enjoy this trip. It would be my termination, without a doubt.

            “Come on, now, Indiana.” My mother’s irritating voice echoed through the hallways. “We’re leaving!” A sigh escaped my lips. The suitcase clunked down the steps as I walked, a backpack hanging from my shoulders. My mother greeted me with a glamorous smile, one I had no need to see at this point. My father was emotionless, and probably highly unhappy with the trip himself. Whatever keeps him away from his precious work carries a bad attitude along with it.