Four

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// author's note //
okay dudes sorry about this not updating mess that i've been doing; hope you're sticking with me lovelies :-) school has started and I got a job (yaayayayyayayaya ame!!!) and ya know I have a boyfriend now so everything is just kinda hectic lovelies. but here's an update for you :-) model behavior should be updated next, btw. 

so yeah just leave me a couple of comments??? bc yeah that makes me wanna write more bc i'm thinking about just abandoning writing in general so i dunno. hope you guys enjoy :) sorry for whining! x

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8:43 a.m.

Wednesday, November 1st, 2014

 

Days.

It’s been days.

Days without sleep.

Every time she closes her eyes, he is there. He’s a ghost traipsing around inside the one place she cannot escape: her mind.

She sees the filthy hands and the yellowed teeth with spaces between and the gutting of his dirty fingernails against her skin. It hurts. It feels like she’s in an eternal rerun of a show she can’t escape. Every time she wakes up, she’s sweated through another set of sheets and another t-shirt. She’s taken two days off of school and now her mother is literally forcing her to get up and get going. She won’t stop asking what’s wrong, but Belle can’t really blame her—not after last year’s isolation. That was so scary for her and her mother both, it’s not really shocking that Mrs. Sinclair is so concerned with Belle’s isolation.

She sighs and tosses her hair up into a (very) messy bun, afterward slipping on some jeans and a Pierce the Veil t-shirt. In all reality she wishes she could curl back under her covers and snooze for years, but she has to go to school and every time she shuts her eyes the scene replays.

A wracking cringe shudders her body as the thought of seeing Luke after so many days comes to mind. He was so angry then, he probably hates her now. She’s sure of it. I don’t blame him either, she thinks as her backpack is slung over her shoulder, I invaded his privacy and put him at odds with the people he lives with. He should hate me. I’d be concerned if he didn’t.

 

The reminder of Luke’s current homeless situation physically pains Belle, sending a shot through her chest as one of her heartstrings tugs. She stares at herself in the mirror before casting a longing look at the door adjoining her room and the one which belonged to her brother.

He and Luke are about the same size…

 

Her musings only continue to feed the chaos in her mind, sending shivers down her spine and tingles to her toes. “You shouldn’t be thinking about him right now,” she chastises herself, tearing her gaze away from the door. “You shouldn’t be thinking about him and you aren’t beholden to Luke either. Stop it, Belle, stop. You’re an idiot. Just stop.” As she sighs, she realizes just how crazy she might sound at times, what with talking to herself and answering all the time.

With a hard swallow, she forces her lead legs to walk out the door and carry her to her car. It feels as if she’s operating a robot, giving her body orders and forcing it to follow them, no emotions running through her veins.

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