False Reality | Book Three

Chapter IV

A/N 

The same photo as the last chapter lol, but that's an image as to what her "mark" looks like. Especially now since it is tattooed.

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I stare in a daze at my reflection. It's tomorrow.

Tomorrow being the day I go on a date with Turner Roark. After yesterday in my ominous dream, I'm really not prepared to see his blue eyes again. Every time I think of him, my heart flutters in a bad way. No longer the happy tingly way (although it really wasn't that before).

My black hair softly curls over my shoulder, and my towel barely conceals the black mark on my chest. I look down at the design, my lips pulling up in a small frown as I look at it. I hate my birthmark. So much so that I got a tattoo over it just last month. It hurt like hell and felt like thousands of bees were stinging me, but I learned to deal with it. Now my chest looks like a normal human beings with the shape of a shadowed, dead, tree across it. I no longer look like a branded horse.

When Ruby somehow convinced me to get a makeover, she got my sisters input, and my sister actually advised getting caramel highlights throughout my black hair. I now have streaks of warm coffee brown running through my hair and I actually look good. My black eyes look dim, almost like a dark grey. I wonder if that's from the sleep deprivation.

It's 6:38 right now, and Turner texted me and told me he would grab me around seven. I've been staring into my mirror for eight minutes like a cocky little booty. I sigh before reaching out and grabbing my brush.

As I brush my hair, I wonder if I should text Ruby. I had decided telling her would not be the best idea since she wasn't so fond of Turner. She would probably scold me and tell Turner there is no way I'm going out with him...actually that doesn't sound so bad. 

I also think about yesterday, my odd conclusion. I didn't want to go on this date with Turner. Something felt wrong...almost as if it wasn't supposed to happen. I wanted to find out the secrets the big black bird carried, not worry about the pleasures of romance.

I actually almost called Turner up and said "sorry but not interested anymore" but smartly decided against it. He would probably show up at my house with a question mark written across his forehead. I have no idea how I would react at that moment.

Besides, now that I am going, I hope to find some type of answers. Something about Turner doesn't rub me right. Either it's the dour dream I had yesterday or it's just the fact I'm not interested in him like he is with me. I don't know which is the correct one, so hopefully, this date will help me find out.

I finish brushing my hair and reach across to grab my mascara. I almost poked my eye countless times, but eventually manage to look somewhat normal. Next is the concealer. It works like a champ as it covers up my blemishes and the dark purple bags under my eyes. I look like a normal teenager all bright and plastic-y.

Next, I get up and go to my closet. I grab out a pair of newly washed skinny jeans and tug on some skateboarding shoes. I then noticed a black shirt. It hangs softly over my closets top shelf. My eyebrows raise before I grab it. I never noticed this before. I mean, how could I when I have thousands of clothing pieces strung around my room? This one makes me super curious though, especially as I see it's meant for a boy. I softly run my fingers over the soft material before tilt my head to the side as I get a whiff of something strong. I cautiously bring the shirt to my nose before snorting.

Icy mud.

Warmth runs through me at the smell and I instantly hug the shirt to my chest. How a shirt is offering me comfort I don't know, but I'll gladly take it. My nerves are running on end and the anxiety picking away at my brain finally stops as I just hug this shirt. I have no idea who it belongs to or where it came from, but I find myself stuffing it into the bottom of one of my drawers. The soft smell of winter floating off of it makes for a very therapeutic blanket.