The Girl Behind The Lens | S.M. (Discontinued)

Part 25- Underneath

"To what we used to have, it's black and burnt..."

-Shawn Mendes, "Bring It Back"
~~~

I groan in exhaustion as I tapped the pencil on top of the blank ruled paper in front of me. The small rays of the morning shone through the curtains, illuminating my room. As I drop the pencil on the desk in exhaustion , I rub my finger along my burned skin, where Chris wrote an X with Sharpie under it. I half smile.

After we talked, he wrote that down so that I remembered that hurting myself was never the answer. That it's never my fault of what happened and there are other ways to get over it without the need of a candle. I know he wants to help me but, what else might relieve me?

I groan as I look up at the ceiling. I have no inspiration today. I push the chair back and spin on it, accidentally hitting my pinkie with the edge of the desk.

"Ouch!" I said as I rubbed it violently.

Eventually, my foot throbbed in pain. When it started to go away, I go back to my writing. I start to draw an eye in the corner of the paper, to see if it sparks something in my brain...but nothing.

Last week, I wrote my name down for the school's Talent Show. It's the first year I participate, and I only did it because it's my last year in this school, might do something new I guess. My original idea was to write a poem, since I am pretty good at those. Well...the only thing I'm good at. I can't sing, dance, not even whistle. So I better just stick to my writing if I'm gonna present it to the school.

But, with everything that has happened involving Shawn, I forgot to write it and now I'm here at five in the morning, trying to think of something. The time was running out and I was getting more and more nervous.

The Talent Show takes the whole day and any student from any grade can participate. Everyone loves it because there's no classes taken, only seeing people perform and laughing at them when they finish. The thing is that it's hard to participate in front of about 300 high schoolers, who take nothing serious.

I hear the door open, my mom looking at me with a shocked face. I was supposed to be asleep...

"Why are you up?" She asked me, already in her uniform.

"I just wanted to write my poem for today, but I just don't have any idea of what to do" I said, turning off the lamp and standing up.

"Maybe if you do something distracting, the idea will come" she said.

"Not bad" I smirked and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll give you thirty minutes. After that, get ready for school" she said and closed the door, her steps sounding along the hall.

I put on some black leggings and a loose shirt, tying the bottom with a knot. I hold up my hair in a loose ponytail and tie my sneakers, smiling. This might not be a bad idea.

I open the door to my room and head outside into the small balcony. I place the yoga mat that was laying in the corner down, letting it roll. It's been a while since I have done exercise at my house, never really having the time with all the schoolwork.

First, I do the first thing you should always do, stretch. It felt somewhat good, but I might have cracked a few bones. Then I go straight into the hard stuff, doing sixty squats. They hurt like hell, but they are necessary.

My legs start to shake halfway, not being able to handle the sudden movements. I know I'm suppose to start slow and then escalate, but I don't have time. My breathing is a little fast paced, but not too much.