Misconceptions 》Styles

27.00

     "LATE NIGHT?" I call from the door frame, arms crossed over my chest. I startle her, I can tell. She wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. She thought that she was alone. I can tell that she wanted to be in the way that she stiffens at the sound of my voice, in the way that she wipes at her eyes. She is trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She is trying to be strong. That's part of the problem in this world; few if any are honest. We build up these walls because we are scared that someone will get too close and that they will hurt us. That we will grow attached and as soon as we admit the depth of our feelings, they disappear without a trace.

     But at what point do these walls become too high, too strong? Unwelcoming to the point where there isn't a single person willing to push aside thorns and ivy and chaos to see what lies behind the barrier? When we end up hurt either way because the only thing worse than being alone is being lonely and behind our castle walls it is a lonely, lonely life. At some point we have to let our walls crumble. We have to let people in. But some are destined for solitude. I am destined for solitude. I will die alone because I have been alone for my entire life. I can't let people in because it hurts me too much. I would rather be lonely than to risk abandonment again. Besides, it's hard to believe that anyone around me actually cares whether I live or die. We're all just wasting time, hiding behind masks. We surround ourselves with people even if we don't necessarily like them because it is easier to hate and complain and fake a smile than it is to realize just how alone we all really are. 

     "Skylar," Randy breathes, a small smile spreading across her lips. She shoots up from the black swivel chair she was sitting in and runs across the room, her arms wrapping around my monstrous frame. "I'm so sorry," She whispers, voice cracking as she buries her head into the crook of my neck. "I'm so sorry that I stood by and allowed you to destroy yourself." Randy pulls away, but her arms are still wrapped loosely around me. She is frowning, and her eyes are watering again and she shakes her head slowly as her eyes scan up and down my body.

     Fat. Fat. Fat. It's disgusting; everyone knows it.

     "I didn't destroy myself. I'm perfectly fine, okay? Everyone just needs to stop." I break away from her and rub at my temples before going to lie down on the couch in the corner of the room. I was so sick of being tired. "If there's anything you should be apologizing for, it's for deeming me mentally unstable to the point where I can't be responsible for my own health rights. And then for proceeding to send me to the insane asylu-"

     "It was a rehabilitation center," She barks, angry that I am complaining. Angry that I am upset with her and Harry for doing this to me. "One that you weren't supposed to escape from, for fucks sake. We were trying to help you, you know."

     "No one helps me. They just make things worse." I deadpan, sinking lower into my seat when Harry walks in. Why did he have to be here?

     "I brought you this," He says as a greeting, completely ignoring Randy as he crosses the room and throws a heated blanket in my direction. "And Rider's funeral is tomorrow. You can start ignoring me after that, since I'm going to be taking you there." His voice is clipped and it is so clear that he is angry. I know that that is all he wants to be, but he can't hide the hurt behind his voice.

     "I can take myself-"

     "To your grave. That's where you can take yourself, as you said so wonderfully when you stormed out of my house. I know you like to think you're invincible Skylar, but you're not. No one is. Especially someone in your position. So please, cut the crap and let me take you to the fucking funeral." Harry says in exasperation, running a hand through his hair before plugging the blanket in and leaning against the wall. "Hi, Randy. How's your night going?" His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and he slaps on a faux smile.