ENDLESS

S5 Chapter 5

LILA MARTIN

MONTH: JANUARY

Sometimes I felt invisible.

I wasn't as pretty as the other girls. I wasn't the strong, witty and graceful heroine you found in books.

But I desperately wanted to be like them.

And I guess that's why I always had my face in a book. I've explored most of the library in the Light Kingdom and read all the fairy tales it had to offer.

What I would give to be a princess with my knight in shining armor waiting to save me around the corner.

It was nice to think that. It was nice to be inside my head, thinking of all the things that reality simply wasn't kind enough to give.

Because the real world is unforgiving. It's harsh, cold, and manipulative. Compared to fiction, real people are villains.

I use to believe the opposite at one point. But when you're an odd bug trapped between books and the will to learn, it's only normal that the world will start to isolate itself from you.

No one wanted to be my friend. No one wanted to talk to someone like me.

And I guess I've learned to find my way through that. If there isn't anyone there, then there isn't anything to grieve.

I've witnessed the cruelty of people. My bullies, Bailey's bullies, and Carter's captor. My grandfather.

But the worst of them all had to be Soul.

I didn't feel like I had the right to feel the way I did. I wasn't the one directly traumatized. But it was horrifying nonetheless. The pressure of making sure that the ER didn't get hurt- the pounding of our hearts as we tried to get Carter out of there as soon as possible. There was the bodies, oh god, that was one of the worst things- but I think what got to me the most was the blood.

All over the floor. All over Scarlett's hands and face. All over the dead bodies.

I didn't think anything like that in this world existed. Or that mankind was capable of committing such treacherous acts.

Sure, something bad always happened to the characters in the books I read- but nothing along the lines of murder and abuse.

How can people do it? What causes people to act this way?

I think what scares me the most is that, after that night, I realized anyone can do what was done back there.

The people who make fun of me are capable of killing.

And that makes me grateful for the escape that fiction provides. I'd rather stay in the oasis of my mind than try to live in a world where all that matters is hurting each other.

I'd rather dream than live.

In my books, there's a prince who thinks I'm perfect- friends who won't judge me for being who I am. I'm accepted.

I've tried talking to the other students ever since middle school started. But I've always gotten weird looks or the side eye.

It's okay. If I were them, I wouldn't want to be friends with an anxious stuttering mess.

But I wouldn't want to be friends with potential monsters either.

. . .

After school, my father was the one who showed to pick us up. As I entered the car, I gave him a curious glance. It's usually mom who comes to get us.

I think he noticed my gaze, because he then opened his mouth. ''Your mom had a doctor's appointment. That's why it's me today.''

''Oh.'' April muttered.

I put on my seat belt as he began to drive off. What's the doctor's appointment for? I hope mom is okay.

She probably just has a cold.