Phoenix

Outlandish

Gilly stared off into the distance, not really believing the world could keep moving—that Earth could keep spinning—when hers had shattered. The pieces were like glass—shattered into pieces that she was scared to pick up, afraid they might hurt her, knowing that they couldn't possibly fit together again without that one important piece that had been lost.

"Gillian, are you sure you're okay?" Chloe asked again.

"Yes," Gilly said forcefully. Yet Chloe could hear the lie in the singular word that spoke for a thousand. In a few strides, the redhead was kneeling in front of the blue-haired girl. Chloe took her hands, the temperatures contrasting greatly. Gilly yanked her hands back.

"What's going on?" Blue eyes met honey-gold, the blue reflecting a thin line of moisture as delicate as glass. Gilly set her mouth in a line, knowing that if she said the words, they would be true. Chloe gazed at her; her eyes soft. "Gillian, if you want help, you have to tell me what's going on."

Gilly sat up, grabbing her iPod and earbuds. "I don't want help, and I never said I did." She stood up, making Chloe jump back. "I'm going for a walk." She shoved her earbuds in her ears, turning on the first song she saw— "Need You Now" —and making her strides quick, letting her feet taking her wherever.

She held the iPod tightly, its edges biting into her hands. She walked out to the quad, keeping away from the road, the logical part of her that had kept her alive for so long driving her away from the cars. It wasn't the first time she'd felt this way.

"Are you feeling better?" Chloe asked Gilly the next morning. Gilly had returned late the night before after Chloe had gone to sleep. She hadn't bothered to change out of her street clothes, and her skin was cold from the damp shirt she wore while it had drizzled. Gilly had been unpacking her homework to take her mind off the news. School didn't resume until Wednesday, so she was going to do the homework she hadn't been able to get done. Gilly didn't really want to do anything for she lacked anything that might have pushed her to go on.

It was obvious that Gilly had taken Ruth for granted despite everything. She wanted anything that could help her. But most of all, she wanted her aunt's voice. Chloe's words simply infuriated her.

"Yup," she said sarcastically as she riffled through some papers. Her fingers itched to draw but she knew that would hurt too much. At the sight of a colored paper, she pulled it out, her hands shaking.

It was a painting that she and Ruth had done years ago. It was a scene of a girl and fairy soaring across the night sky—a scene taken from Peter Pan, a book she'd loved as a child that her mother hated, which had only served for her to love it more. Looking at it, one could find the meaning hidden in it—Gilly wanted to be taken away to where she would never grow up. To a world that she wouldn't have to think about anything but the day ahead. Neverland seemed like such a better place, even with the pirates and the annoying characters.

"I understand that you might not want to talk—" Gilly's head snapped up, and she glared at her roommate.

"No, you don't understand, Chloe!" Gillian's patience was worn thin. She let the papers fall back and grabbed her sketchbook. She tucked it under her arm and put her hands on her hips. "I can guarantee that you don't. Because no one ever understands what anyone else is going through. No one had gone through what I have, so don't you dare pretend that you do. Grow up, Beale! You can stop pretending that we're friends because you're just the stupid person I live with—not by choice may I add." Chloe gulped, daring to meet Gilly's fiery eyes.

"Then help me understand," she said, ever the patient girl. But it didn't have the effect she wanted. The fire in Gilly's golden eyes glowed brighter, stoked by the other girl's lack of reaction. She wanted a reaction. She wanted someone to hurt. Wanted someone to hurt as she did. She wanted to hurt her to the core like everyone in her life had. She wanted her to bleed, wanted her to break, because if she wasn't happy, then no one could be.

"And then what? Get your pity next? I don't think so. I don't want pity, especially not from some stupid girl who won't grow up. I don't want your friendship. I don't want friends or family. All they do is break your heart. So forgive me for not wanting to be friends with you like everyone else does," Gilly snapped.

"Please, let me help you," Chloe begged.

"Don't you understand? I don't want your help! I don't want your pity. I don't want anything from you. You can do nothing for me so just stop. Don't talk to me. Don't do anything. I want nothing to do with you. You're worthless to me." Gilly turned on her heel, not bothering to see the effect of her words. She left the room, pushing past Aubrey, who glared at her, leaving her journal where it had rested on her bed, open to the place it had all began. For the first time in her life, she had been about to read it again, hoping to find comfort. But now, she knew only one place could comfort her. Gilly was going to her sanctuary.