Sluts & Suicide

l a c u n a

lacuna: (n.) a blank space; a missing part

     Emme woke up to someone shaking her intensely. Her eyes shot open and she stared up at the culprit. Her mother scowled down at her.

     "You were supposed to be up an hour ago," Kim practically screeched at her daughter, hatred filling the room.

     Emme whimpered and rolled out of bed not caring if she was late for school. Her mother stomped out, slamming the door behind her. Emme sunk to the floor and sobbed for what felt like hours. She could barely pull herself together. 

     A saddening moan escaped her mouth. She weeped even harder out the sound of it. It sounded so heartbreaking. She missed everything her life used to be.

     She used to have a child in her stomach. She used to have friends. She used to be happy. She had a life. But that all has slipped through her fingers and that part of her was missing. All of her was missing.

     Now she's broken and can't be fixed.

     Slowly, she got up and picked out an outfit. It showed a lot of skin, too much almost. It was a skin tight, low cut, army green top paired with some denim booty shorts with some sheer stockings underneath. On her feet she wore some knee high black boots. This was deemed slutty in her mind and society.

     She looked into her mirror and slightly lifted up her shirt. On the slit of skin, there were a couple deep cuts. Luckly they had scabbed over. Emme bit her lip to keep the gut wrenching sobs trapped inside. 

     Silent tears slid down her already tear soaked cheeks. She wanted to scream. Scream at her parents for hating her. Scream at God for taking her child away. Scream at everyone.

     But alas, she cannot do so. Instead, she picked up her ba and started on her walk to school. When she got there, the look on peoplee's faces told the whole story.

     They think she slept with someone.

     "Oh my gosh! Who do you think the slut slept with?"

     "How dare she show her face! No one even likes her."

     And that's how Emme's rest of the week went. Rumors spreading, people whispering behind cupped hands, boys asking for sex, people slut-shaming her. She wasn't looking forward to shopping with Sandra, but it seemed like an escape now compared to what she was enduring at school.

     Soon enough, Friday rolled around.

     "Emerson! It's so good to see you! Are you ready to go shopping," Sandra bombared Emme with. She gave Emme a kiss on the cheek, more like a peck, and a bear hug. It kinda gave Emme a warm and fuzzy feeling.

     She smiled lightly at Sandra and snatched her purse up off the floor. They headed out the front door. Emme used to love shopping, especially for dresses. But now she wanted to spend all her time moping around, sleeping, and be depressed (not that she favored it..).

     "So the theme of the ball is pastel colors. It's a kickoff for my new clothing line. There won't....," Sandra trailed on in her little description of what to expect at the ball, but Emme was far from paying attention.

      She nodded along pretending that she was absorbing all the information Sandra was voicing to her. By now, sandra might as well have printed out an instruction manual. At one point Emme stopped nodding and responding all together and let Sandra, the chatterbox, run her mouth off.

     In reality, she was falling apart. Emme was ready for Sandra to shut her trap so she could internally mourn in peace.

     They pulled into a parking lot. Finally, Sandra shut up. Peace. Quiet. Everything that Emme needed was given to her in that moment of no Sandra talk. She dwelled in it for what seemed like hours but what was really two seconds.

     The once again chattery Sandra pulled her from her haven. Sh etalked on and on as they headed towards the dress and apparel store called Julianne Apparel.

     Wow, what a fancy place. We deserve to be here, the voice in her head snickered sarcastically. Emme whacked her head making the stupid voice shut up. All it did was critisize her all day.

     Sandra gave her a weird look as if Emme was a talking peacock. Emme only rolled her eyes at the clearly aging woman. Emme studied her and picked out a couple grey hairs. Yep, she will probably get her hair dyed.

     "Hey Sandra? Is it okay if I wear a... deep red dress," Emme asks with some hesitation. Sandra sucks in a breath for longer than needed. At a anxiety causing pace, she shakes her head. Emme feels a wave of emotions wash over her. Especially guilt.

     Emme instantly felt the regret and guilt. She made Sandra agitated and that is far from good.

     "I can't let you do that. It would throw off the whole theme and I would have to plan the whole thing again and I just don't have the energy to do that. Sorry hun," Sandra said calmly, but her expression said mad. Emme nodded and went to looking at the ground, suddenly finding interest in it.

     She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and it went on to rub her back.

     Sandra spoke,"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to sound so, so, so witchy." Emme gazed at her and gave her a tight-lipped smile. Erasing her face from her memory wouldn't be easy. It might not even happen.

     They entered the store with grace. Well, at least Sandra did. Emme attempted to but she felt like she failed. She felt far from graceful. Or anything that was positive. She felt she was a worthless piece of shit. She was the slut of the school and she had her court who were all fake and onlt pretended being her friends. I reality they talked and gossiped about Emme behind her back.

     But Emme understood. It wasn't like she was worth anything. That's  why she pushed everyone one away. They's never be able to fill the void.

Hey Guys! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and hopefully it didn't trigger anyone. And if you are wondering where Cameron, Vickie, and Jessica are... don't worry! they'll be back. But they will all be prominent Characters in the second book. So yeah.

Bye!