"нope" [h.s.]

lιттle prιnceѕs.

Four in the morning and she doesn't shut the fuck up. Why does she have to shout to nothing, to anyone? Why does she have to slam things to the wall? Why does she have to make me regret living? This is a nightmare and the worst part of it is that it seems unending. I've leveraged my door with all the things that I could move. I feel safe from my mother, but I'm not safe from myself. I put my headphones on and turn the volume of my iPhone to maximum, I could faintly hear her. Amnesia sounds on my phone, they are the only reason that I'm steal alive. My dream is to meet them, to tell them how much they've helped me without even knowing me. I just want to thank them for all those hours they've spent with me, through their music.

My head turns to the poster on top of my bed. 5 Seconds Of Summer being the idiots they are. Michael on top of Luke and Ash messing with Calum's hair. Then I remember that my sketch book is hidden behind the inked paper. I take one of the sticky plastic pieces that sealed one of the corners to the wall and there it is. I made a hole in the wall when I first came to this house. I take out the old diary in which I've spent so many hours writing and drawing. I open the first page and admire my first try of a'realistic' eye. It's so bad that at first it take me a while to recognise what it was.

I take a pen in hand and open the sketch book to a blank page. When I realise what I was sketching it was too late. A brown haired boy has taken his place on the page. His curls being the most difficult part to draw, it took me ages to see them right. I didn't remember how much I love to draw. After twenty minutes of trying to make realistic his hair, I'm amused with how it finally looked. Then my hand makes it way for drawing his face. Starting with his two piercing green eyes, if you looked too much into them you could get lost. My hand dances on top of the thin paper. After giving the last looks at the two enchanting eyes, I move down on the page. A nose starts to take shape, a perfect one. Then, his lips. I make them proportionate to his head and nose. After looking at it for several minutes, I feel happy with it. I forgot how you feel when you draw, how it gets your mind off everything. I need to do this more often. At the bottom of the page I write: 14th October, 2014. Sketch of: Harry.

My music stops and I start the album of my boys again, when I blocked my phone it suddenly buzzes. What time is it? 5:15 in the morning.

Good night.

It read. Who was it? I'm too sleepy to just try and make my mind function.

Tomorrow I will found out. I need the two hours left of sleep. My mind turns black, the only thing that gives me warmth and light are the two green eyes that I've spent so much trying to draw, though my hand will never reach their perfection. Why him?

*

An intense noise makes my ears rumble. Oh, it's Monday and I have class. I turn off my alarm clock and jump out of bed. It's a new day. I open my bag and get out a white shirt, a grey sweatshirt and a black skinny jeans. After taking a shower it's seven thirty. I quickly put my clothes on and look for my books. The two first periods I have History. Ugh. After packing up, I run to my mirror and put some make up on. Black eyeliner surrounding my blue eyes and I added some mascara. I look as shit, my lip is hurting and hasn't even started to heal. I put some makeup on my eye that has turned a little kind of purple. I look as hell. After checking my bag, I'm ready to jump out of my window. Just when I'm about to jump, a cold bloody scream make me turn, that's when I remembered to get my sketch book and put it into my bag.

It's cold outside so I put my hood on and introduce my hands inside of my pockets. My gaze glued to the floor. After thrifty minutes of walking, I'm outside the school gates. This time it's open. Just when I thought it would be a good day, I jump into someone.

"Oh my god, Nat. What the hell has happened to your face? You look as shit." Alex. It was the person I most wanted to see... I hope you read the sarcasm on the last phrase...