Jade

0.4

The day dragged on and by the time third period rolled around I was sick of it. I was sick of pretending to care about whatever the hell the teachers were droning about in the lesson and the pitiful looks everyone was giving me so I skipped third period.

As I walked away from school I became more and more aware of the rock of emotions caught in my throat. I needed a distraction.

I walked to the local gym aka Kick Ass Gym (KAG). I quickly changed into some sports leggings and a big t-shirt and headed to the punching bag area. I chose a punching bag, red in colour and began to punch. I chose a punching bag, red in colour and began to punch. It had been quite a while since I had used a punching bag so I started slow, teasing the bag but soon I was full on punching the bag, quick and hard just as I had been taught. Each punch felt liberating. Each punch brought me closer to my goal: total numbness.

I love working out using a punching bag because it helps me stay away from my violent tendencies as well as helping me perfect my punch so that it is as effective and brutal as possible. I also love to spar because it helps me clear my head and focus on what is going on around me. Its one of the few things I do that help me escape the claws of my mind. When I am sparring I feel the most free.

Lost in thought, I didn't realise there was someone else watching from the door until I heard a deep voice "if you keep going like that your going to rip the bag or break your wrist ... whichever comes first."

As soon as I heard that narcissistic voice I knew who it was.

"What do you want?" I said, hostility dripping from my voice. I urged myself to remain calm.

"Now, now. Is that any way to talk to one of your best friends-" he scolded me like I were an infant who had done something wrong.

"You are not my friend." I said with precision but I was slowly loosing control of my emotions.

"Im hurt JJ-" with sadness in his voice. but i knew better, Luke's manipulative.

I snapped and screamed "don't call me that !"

I took a deep breath and regained my control.

"What do you want Luke? Did Jamey send you to spy on me or something?"

"Can't a friend just check up on another friend?"

I quickly realised that he wasn't going to tell me anything. He wasn't worth the energy of trying to find out why he was here.

"Do what you want just leave me alone." I turned back to the punching bag.

"Don't you want to know what happened to Zayn?"

And with that he walked out. i stood there dumbfound fo a moment and then the realisation hit: I had just let my first real clue walked right out the door. I rushed out the door to look for him but he had already disappeared into the crowds. He was gone.

Home. We associate the word home with the feeling of comfort, a place that we could be who we are and not have to worry about being constantly judged or about being confined to the boundaries that society declares 'acceptable'. Home is the place where we can drop our façades and be who we really are.

So, what happens when the place that is supposed to be your 'home' is the exact opposite of that? You are always expected to be something you're not and more than anywhere else are constantly being judged about everything you do. Where social acceptability doesn't just exist but is constantly knocking on your door, demanding to be heard. Can you really call it a home or is it just the place you happen to spend the night, a house?

I unlocked the front door and walked into what is supposed to be my home. Instead of being filled with love and warmth it was cold and desolate. The interior décor was tailor made to cover up the cold and present a mirage of love and kindness courtesy of my dear mother. The walls are filled with family photos and photos of my brother and I as children playing around without a care in the world. I used to look at those photos and remember a time everything was easier, memories would come flooding in. Now I hate looking at those pictures because they remind me that once somethings are gone they can never come back.

I climbed the stairs and headed for my bedroom. It was a small room in the attic, the smallest room in the house my brother got the bigger room. He was the favourite after all.

I unlocked my room door and took note of everything. The desk was organised, the bed laid and my clothes in my dresser. I realised my mother must have been in here but decided I would argue with her later.

I climbed the stairs and headed for my bedroom. It was a small room in the attic, the smallest room in the house my brother got the bigger room. He was the favourite after all.

I unlocked my room door and took note of everything. The desk was organised, the bed laid and my clothes in my dresser. I realised my mother must have been in here but decided I would argue with her later.

I grabbed my robe and towel and head to the bathroom for a much needed shower. I recapped my day as I felt the water run down my skin, trying to look for potential clues I had missed but I found none except Luke.

As I walked out of the shower exhaustion took over so I decided to lay down a bit and soon i drifted off.