Heart Of Obsidian *COMPLETED*

Chapter 2

*MYLES*

I opened the door to the house and slammed it. I was still fuming from earlier. I heard a commotion in the kitchen. "Honey is that you?" My mom yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah."

A simple response to probably alarm her to come to my room. I stomped upstairs and entered my room. I sat on the edge of my messy bed. I glanced at my boxes that were still sealed by the wall, some labeled clothes and others labeled miscellaneous. My room was dark and gloomy. I put the darkest curtains on my window because that's how I felt, dark as obsidian. The only light that shined was the flare of sunlight that crept through the cracks of the curtains.

My hoodie was dry but I felt the aftermath of burnt on my neck. I took off my hoodie and walked to my bathroom, yes my bathroom so I won't have to walk to the one down the hall. I turned on the light as I stared at myself in the mirror, my blue eyes were surrounded by the redness of irritation, my tears that I try so hard not to shed but I was beyond broken.

I noticed my neck was red I tried to touch it but it was raw and it hurt like hell. I'm going to kill him if I ever see him around campus, well not kill him but maybe intimidate him with my death glare.

My hair was much longer from the front. I always kept my sides shorter and let my waves flow down my face. I like my hair messy. It wasn't tangled or dirty I just like to wake up and tousle the front forward but right now it was passing my nose if I stretched my hair. I guess I'll get a haircut when I'm not in this crazy mindset.

I managed to calm myself so I wouldn't have to take my happy pill. I call it my happy pill because it puts a smile on my face and within 20 minutes I'm knocked out. I'll only take it if I'm close to home or I'm at home. I turned off the light to the bathroom as I made my way back to my dungeon of a bedroom.

There was a gentle knock on my door. "Honey," my mom said softly. I knew she was worried about me.

"Come in."

The door slowly creaked opened as I noticed her silhouette. She walked in and gently closed the door. "Honey, it's so dark in here, let me open your curtains," I heard her walking towards the windows.

"I like it dark and gloomy, just leave it as it is, please," my words were dark and stale.

"Very well."

Yes, I know I told Mrs. Fischer that I was afraid of the dark but not when I see some type of light, at night I have to sleep with the closet light on. I always feel protected when a piece of light comes through.

"How was therapy?" My mom asked as she sat next to me. I laid on my back as I stared at the ceiling. I'm not sure what color the ceiling is. I haven't paid too much attention to how my room looks, which is rare because I'm a neat freak. I have to color coordinate my shirts or neatly fold my jeans like they were on display at a department store. My socks have to match my shirt or else I'll completely lose it, figuratively speaking of course. My underwears have to either be black or gray, it's how I live my life, don't judge me.

"It was ok," simple response which means I won't have to talk much.

"So why did you come in all fired up?"

I didn't want to into detail, which my neck started to tingle again. I tried to touch it but it ached. I didn't make any sound of pain so my mom wouldn't worry so much. It was silent for a couple of minutes until I felt her body get off my bed.