chapter 3

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The rest of the day drags by.
I see Min Yoongi a couple of times... he is hard to miss with his pink hair.

But otherwise he seems quite quiet. Keeps to himself. Sera spotted him too. She thinks he's cute. He is... but again compared to some of the people in here, it's not hard either.

It was finally library day today. So I got to change my books. Thank god. I finished them too quickly last time.
I wish they would let me have my phone so I could listen to music. I miss music.

I don't like writing things here, because someone always reads them and then they bring them up in the counseling sessions. Fuckers. They have no respect for privacy at all.

Dinner has been and gone. I'm sitting by the largest window flicking through the books, trying to decide what to read; but my mind is restless, and doesn't want to focus. I feel jittery, but not anxious.

Pink hair comes into my view and I turn to watch him. I'm pretty sure I'm turning into a stalker. Whenever he's in the room my eyes seem to follow him.

He walks towards me, my breath catches and my body tingles. How can the mere presence of someone cause me to react like this. What is it about him that calls out to me?

"Uh... do you mind?" He points to the seat opposite me.

"Um... no. G-go ahead."

He sits down, his long legs stretching out in front of himself. He's still looking at me. I can feel my cheeks reddening. Oh God. Why am I blushing? I'm not some young teenager who's being spoken to by a guy for the first time.

I start to bite my lip because I'm nervous. Why does he make me nervous?

We just keep looking at each other. I'm taking in all of his features, he looks so serious, but...  there's something. Something in his eyes. What is it that's calling to me?

A slow smile spreads across his face as we maintain eye contact. I can feel my face responding in kind. What is it about him?

He winks at me and I think my heart just stopped. How is a wink so damn attractive? What is he doing to me? I have never been this affected by a person before.

I'm pretty sure we are alone, but if anyone was watching us they would think that we were fucking idiots. I mean who in their right mind actually just stares at another person without any words being spoken. Probably a stalker. But we aren't stalkers. They do it in secret. Neither of us are hiding the fact we are watching the other.

Maybe we do actually belong in this place. We aren't acting like normal people at all.

I wonder what hes thinking about. Does he think I'm pretty? What am I thinking? No one thinks I'm pretty. I'm not good enough to be pretty. That's why I have to be perfect in every other fucking way.

Why would a God like him look at me and think I'm pretty enough for him. I must be becoming delusional. I think I really am losing the plot now.
He's probably trying not to laugh because I look so much like a troll.

I don't know why he would take any interest in me. I know I'm not ever going to be good enough for anyone. I know I'm not good enough to be loved unconditionally.

No one will love me. I am not good enough to be loved. I am not kind enough. I am not strong enough. I am not enough. At. All. Just give up.

I can't maintain eye contact anymore. Everything about him screams perfection, and everything about me is broken. I wouldn't know how to put the pieces back together even if I tried.

I'm that old toy from your childhood that has gone through hell and back with you, bears scars and marks, has been stood on multiple times and is missing parts, while other bits have been broken off with no idea where to find them.

He doesn't have scars. Not like the ones on my wrists.
I tug at my top, trying to hide the marks on my arms. Even though I know they are covered by my leather wristlet's,  I can't help but think that if anyone would find them it would be him.

The perfect man who looks so well put together. Why is he here? He doesn't look like life has chewed him up and spat him out.

A vice like grip holds and squeezes my heart, I have the sudden urge to leave. I can't be here. I... I. I might infect him. I might make him less than he is.
I can't be around him when he is perfection and I am nothing. Nothing but trash. No one wants trash.

I quickly gather my books and stand. I know he must be confused. But I can't. I can't meet his eyes, I can't let him see how broken I actually am. I can't open myself to him and drag him down with me. I can't. I just... can't. I can't explain. I can't tell him what's going on in my head. I don't even know what's happening.

"Sorry." I whisper looking at his feet as I walk away.

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