Who's a Delinquent?

Chapter 3: My Hallway Of Doors

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's gotta be sometime ‪around midnight‬, but I can't fall asleep. I can hear the soft slow breathing of Cora a couple feet away. I don't know what's keeping me awake, I'm tired. I can feel it behind my eyes. So why can't I sleep? I trace the water marks on the ceiling, they look like spiderweb cracks in the stone. Up, right, left, down. When I finish tracing them I do it again. And again. Giving my mind something repetitive to do so it might go to sleep. But after five times of doing this I just get bored. So bored, that I decide to open one of my imaginary doors. I picture my brain, as a sort of hallway. With lots and lots of doors, sort of like the school, now that I think about it. Some doors are open constantly, memories that I gladly revisit whenever I want. Some have simple locks, and as you go farther down the hall the locks become bigger, then they have chains, then multiple locks AND chains. Until some of the doors are completely wrapped in the chains, hundreds of locks coating each and every one of them. The last doors are boarded up, hundreds of locks replaced by hundreds of nails, nails in boards, in the wall. Creating secure walls between me and the doors. These ones I never go in, these ones I have spent years hiding and pushing down. Mentally hammering in each and every one of those nails, placing the locks, wrapping the chains. Those doors will stay forever closed, because I broke the keys and threw them away years ago. But back in the front, where there are doors with simple locks, locks I still have imaginary keys to, those ones can open. And sometimes, when I'm alone with my mind, with my invisible mask on my bedside table, and nobody but the darkness. Those are times, when I open the doors, just to peek. So I pick up a key, go to a random door, and open it. This door, I swiftly find out, is the feelings. Feelings I couldn't get rid of, feelings I couldn't face. They swarm around me and they soak into me like a sponge. A dark smoke being sucked back into my body. Pain and sadness and misery, surround my brain like cartoon birds, but guilt hits me hardest. I know the only way to make all of them go away, is to go through them. Pick them apart, dissect them, disintegrate them, peice by microscopic piece. I focus on the pain, and I wince, it makes me want to yell. Fear clouds my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut. Sadness punches into my gut, screwing up my insides and the tears fall. Guilt takes over everything, my eyesight, my mind, my stomach. The guilt is so strong it's almost physically sickening. So I cry into my pillow, silently, biting my lip to keep silent. I can taste the salty tears in my mouth and feel the hot wetness on my cheeks. I cry for everything I lost, everything I did, every single moment I screwed up. My head hurts, and my brain is foggy. My vision is blurred. "Gemma?" I suck in a breath as I whip my head around and up out of my pillow, creating a wave of dizziness. "Cora... Sorry. I-I didn't- I didn't mean t-to-" Cora's purple hair stuck up in odd angles, her green eyes sad. I didn't notice she had greens eyes until now. I couldn't form words anymore, they got stuck and came out as weird noises so I shut my mouth. The lump in my throat felt like a tangible thing that I could choke up. Another tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away. Cora did something that surprised me. She leaned down, and hugged me. And I hugged her back. I wrapped my arms around her torso and deflated, as if for one moment I could let someone else carry my weight, let someone else lift my head, my limbs. A shuddering sigh went through me, I couldn't remember the last time anyone had hugged me like this. More tears. I closed my eyes, she smelled like flowers and laundry detergent. We stayed like that for I don't know how long, maybe minutes, maybe seconds. She gently ran her hands through my hair and when she did pull back I could see her freckles, dark spots without any light. I wondered if, before she dyed it, had her hair been red? Naturally? Her shirt was wet and I felt ashamed, but also grateful. "Thank you." Cora just nodded and slipped back into her own bed. "Good night, Gemma." I heard her say, her fairy-light voice now sounded a bit more deep, I bit more... like a teenage girl, I guess. I wondered if she had a mask, a mask she slipped on every day, before she stuck up her walls. I wondered if what I just saw was her without the mask, if she had hugged me and left it on her bedside table. "Goodnight, Cora." I said, my voice was gravelly. The door of feelings was gone, but I knew those feelings would turn into thoughts, those thoughts into another door, another lock, another key. Finally my eyelids slid closed and I fell into uneasy, exghausted sleep.

A/N hey, kinda sad chapter i know but i was in a mood. hope you like it :)