Recovery (Until Dawn)

0: Memories

The daily loneliness was suffocating. Adrian tried to escape it when he moved in with his dad, but the subtle, drowning emptiness followed him here. There was a comfort, not seeing the faces he'd grown up with day in and day out; the same faces that just might've known what he did; the faces he would complain about to and with his friends, to who he thought were the loves of his lives. The feeling of being watched and haunted by the memories didn't follow him here.

But the loneliness did.

While being unknown helped eased his creeping guilt and paranoia, it reminded him just how long it had been since he made any friends. He didn't know anyone here, which meant everything was knew. All the social skills he should've developed over the past decade finally caught up to him, and as the end of the first marking period arrived in this new school; new town, the thoughts did too.

At least he had something to look forward to, he reminded himself, sitting in a vacant corner of the cafeteria with his burnt red lunchbox; his stepmother's homemade subs. A smile creeped up on his face, just a small one, as he began to unzip his treat.

It had to be that moment; that exact moment, when someone walked by, startling him with a loud noise- intentional, no doubt, but a noise that resulted in a jerk that knocked his lunchbox to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere. The container holding his meal burst open, ingredients tainted with the dirt from hundreds of shoes every day. The cause of the noise laughed to itself, pleased with the results, and Adrian's heart sank. Curse his illness, for making him so afraid of something so normal.

The brunet stared at the mess before him, mourning the one thing that kept him going on this cursed day, genuine tears welling in his eyes as he looked on in horror. No, this is stupid, he told himself. It was just a sandwich. He wasn't going to cry. Still, it didn't keep the tears at bay, as they rolled down his cheeks despite his best efforts. He wiped them away desperately with his jacket sleeve. It's just a sandwich. Stop it. He just wanted it to stop.

A voice spoke up next to him, pulling him from his thoughts. "Hey, are you okay? That guy was a real dick." It was a girl's voice, he realized, and he glanced up from his mess of a meal towards it. There, kneeling next to him, was a brown-haired girl with a gentle, reassuring smile on her face. He recognized her, she was in his creative writing class. Beth Washington. He'd often wished he had the courage to try and talk to her, but his guilt had kept him from doing so. She was a friendly face, often helping him out where she could. Adrian didn't realize they had the same lunch period.

"I-I'm fine. My lunch isn't, but that's fine," he said, trying to convince himself of that fact more than her. She wasn't buying it, though, her eyes slightly narrowing. She clapped a hand on his shoulder, rising to her feet once more.

"Come on. I'm buying you lunch," she announced. It wasn't an offer, no, it was a demand. She'd often do things like that. Adrian wasn't ignorant, he'd have to live under a rock to not know her family had loads of wealth, which was honestly one of the reasons he was so afraid to interact with her. He hated the principle of wealthy people, and was terrified to know what kind of person she'd be. No, rather, he was afraid she'd do things like this just for show, and not actually care about the injustice that was her wealth.

He was pulled from his thoughts- and his chair, by this same girl. "H-hey, it's alright, I can just get a snack." He didn't want to have to tell her that he was a picky eater, thus preventing him from trusting the mass-produced food from the cafeteria. She shook her head, and it was at that moment he realized she wasn't taking him to the line, but rather outside the cafeteria.

"H-Hey, where are we going?" He piped up, and it seemed to dawn on her to actually explain. Her cheeks flushed a little bit, and she slowed, no longer pulling him by his arm.