My Way Home

[18] Pinky Promise [✔️]

ANNABELLE'S POV

7 days.

When people are given a choice they usually take the better one, like when offered a slice of pizza or a a whole box of pizza, they're gonna take the second one.

Why? Because there's more of it, they don't think about the consequences, all they think about is getting more.

Wouldn't you choose the box tho as well? There's more in a box then a slice, but sometimes you should put more thought into it, before taking the one that offers more. Sometimes you'll end up with more then you can handled.

If given a choice, I'd take the slice. I'm not too sure as to why, but I would.

Maybe because that means I'll have to work more, for the others, but sometimes the easy way, isn't always the right way.

If everyone took the easy way out, the world would be a whole lot different don't you reckon.

Maybe girls still wouldn't be able to vote, or maybe we wouldn't have electricity, or phones.

Sometimes it's all about work, the world would be a whole lot better if more people did the work they needed too.

~~~

You know when someone punches you, and you don't feel the pain till afterwards, like adrenaline or something.

Yeah, that. That's kinda how I feel right now, I didn't feel the pain of his punches or kicks or anything at the time, but now that it's over and he's gone, and everything has had time to fully kick in, it hurts.

I groaned, and whined as I pushed myself up into a sitting position, the pain finally kicking in.

All it ever takes in one stupid tiny little thing, and boom, it's like a bomb going off, but it's only ever going to affect us, not the people around us. It's not gonna take out most of China, like the first atomic bomb did in 1945.

After the pain dies down a bit, I finally stand up, heading to the bathroom to inspect the damage that had been done earlier this hour.

Seeing as the girls were at school, and Malachi was god knows where, for who knows long. I had the house to myself for a little bit.

Looking in the broken mirror, I didn't see myself. All I saw was a girl, I didn't quite recognise.

She was covered in bruises, with more forming. Her pale blonde hair was longer then she'd like, she had always been pale, but not this kind of pale, it's more of a violet kind of tone, kinda purple, but kinda white, never less it didn't look natural. Under all the bruises, there were cuts, with harden and dried blood.

Her eyes, they were still the same deep blue eyes she'd had as a child, they'd never changed, and I hope they never would.

As I stood there, in the dark and cold bathroom, my long pale blonde hair running down to my waist, I pick up the closest pair of scissors, ignoring the pain I felt in my left arm.

Holding the scissors in my left hand, I ran my right through my hair, untangling the mess I call hair.

Maybe if I do this, I can finally start looking up. I can stop doubting myself, and things just might get better.

Just one simple snip, and a few more, and it'll be gone.

It's be like change, a new beginning.