Lockdown [ON HOLD]

♛ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔 ♛

❛If there are no ups and downs in life, it means you're dead.❜

~ Ben Francia

|𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐀|

I sat down next to Devin, who was up against the trunk of a tree.

"So," I said, "What's going on."

She started after a pause, "I've been here all my life, and in this neighborhood, a lot has happened."

I nodded and encouraged her to keep going. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"About seven years ago, my brother was caught in a car crash coming back from work. I was in the car because it was an extended weekend so he decided to take me along. When the car took a turn on our driveway, another one hit us. It blew up and the heat shattered the glass next to my face. The glass flew against my face and gave me the scar on my head near my hair. I passed out after that. The doctors didn't expect me to survive with gun wounds on both legs and a face with embedded glass pieces, but ever since, I was diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety. I'm afraid of being in cars with too many people and prefer the motorcycle any day."

I stayed quiet for some time before saying, "You know what Devin, you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. You don't even know me that well, yet you told me one of your biggest fears. You're still alive after the death of your brother must've tried tearing you apart...I'm honored that you told me."

She gave a scrutinizing look.

"Thanks but...you have a story too. I heard from Skylar that you attempt to distance yourself. You flinch when they do anything and evade every occasion with them. So tell me, Minerva Abbott. What is your story?"

The tabled turned really fast and I immediately looked away from her piercing gaze.

Well, crap.

"I don't have a story."

Devin scoffed, "Everyone has a story, and it's normally not all unicorns and rainbows."

I looked back at her and stared at her in the eye, resisting the urge to flinch, "I. Don't. Have. A. Story."

Her calculating eyes looked over me, looking for any signs that could give me away. I hid all my discomforts under the rug while keeping any signs of untruthfulness off from my face.

Devin sighed, "I hope that you do, Minerva. I hope that you have a story and I also hope that someday, you'll let one of us in, because frankly if you don't let us in, you're thoroughly dead."

With that, she got up and left, her episode long forgotten. 

But mine had just begun.

♛♛♛♛♛

I got home and opened the door giving mom a wave and taking off my shoes quickly. Perhaps if I had not done so, I wouldn't have seen the compartment on the sofa that she was so cleverly hiding.

"Mom," I asked, "Since what day has it to be that you sit on the floor and sew the sofa?"

Her head snapped towards me and a flash of relief crossed her eyes. I had just intentionally given her an excuse.

"Oh! Minerva," she exclaimed, still fiddling with the ends of the leather, "I didn't see you there."

I gave her a smile and walked in front of the sofa, making sure my back was away from her. I went and got a glass of water from the side table, discreetly turning to get a perfect look at the contents inside.