𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 | 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ON HOLD

[𝟎𝟑] 𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

SEPTEMBER 4, 2020

THE HOT WATER slid down Laiken’s lightly tanned skin as she stood idle to the bleating showerhead. Her hands cupped themselves tenderly in front of her chest as if adding an extra layer of protection from the warmth - a way to distance her touch-starved body from the craving the so dearly lacked. She held her body still, allowing the water to pelt her exhausted face; the dark purple rings under her closed chocolate-colored eyes made it ever so evident that the 22-year-old hadn’t slept in days. This happened to her a lot. Most of the time when she closed her eyes, flashes of her trauma would fog behind her eyelids and haunt her as her body pleaded for sleep.

Her nimble fingers reached forward to twist the shower off before she pulled back the glass that separated her from the rest of the bathroom. It didn’t take her very long to encase herself in towels as she wandered back to her room, making sure to be extra cautious to tiptoe through the creaky wood floors beneath her, though her limp made it difficult sometimes. Laiken could hear the soft melodious harmonies that escaped from the crack of Grayson’s door - they were undoubtedly asleep, but they couldn’t sleep without background noise.

Laiken was like that, too, but unlike Grayson, Laiken played music through her headphones. Grayson was too much of a restless sleeper to sleep like that; Laiken rarely slept, but when she did, she mostly stayed in one spot.

She plopped herself down on her bed, staring blankly into the vanity mirror in front of her. Her reflection met her eyes and held the contact until Laiken tore her eyes away from it. They wandered over to the alarm clock beside her small TV. 1:23 AM, it read. The girl ducked her head down, brushing away the soft build-up of saltwater the lined her eyes. “You’re fine, Laiken,” she whispered to herself. “You’re okay.” With that, she removed herself from her sunken pit of wallow and moved over to her dresser.

The clothes she chose weren’t anything fancy - simply a dark blue hoodie, black leggings, and a pair of Family Guy Brian socks. It didn’t take her long to get dressed and slip on her dainty sneakers - she instinctively slipped her pocket knife into the thin pocket of her leggings. She quickly braided her hair before her eyes cast a glance over to a sleeping Appa, bringing a tender smile to her lips as he snuggled deeply into his pillow beside her’s. She ducked her head down again - the bubble of happiness disappeared like it was never there. Laiken exited her room, making sure to leave it a crack open for Appa, and making her way over to her crossbody bag and keys that were hanging on a hook beside their door. For a split second, after she seized them into her grasp, she glanced back into the clean, dimly lit house.

She shook her head, opening the door carefully and making sure to lock it as the night of the Chicago darkness surrounded her. The crickets were chirping happily under the lights of the city, and there were noises howling from somewhere nearby. Laiken didn’t wait to find out as she slipped into her black 2018 Chevy Malibu, which she respectively named Molly. She remembered how proud of herself she was paid off something on her own; Molly was hers, and no one could ever take it away from her. She clicked her doors locks and slid in her key - the humming purr erupted from the engine and her dash lit up. She connected her bluetooth, allowing Spotify to randomly play music. It seemed to know that she was in her feelings, only playing sadder and softer songs through the speakers.

Laiken sighed, clicking on Instagram and clicking through her friends’ stories, not even caring all that much about what they posted. She scrolled through the posts, liking some as she did so. Eventually, she let out a soft breath, dragging her finger over to the post button.