𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝟐𝟔] 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬

After studying with Tatum today, I went shopping. The thing is when I went to pay for the clothes I realized that I have yet to be paid this week. So basically what I'm getting at here is that I walked out of a clothing store because I'm poor. Which is not a good feeling if you've yet to experience something like that. By the way, if you haven't, then can you yell at yourself one word for me?

Lucky

Anyway, the whole thing just made me feel like shit. Not just about my day but about my job. I love it and I'd hate to leave it but it's just not keeping me financially stable enough anymore.

"Ugh!" I groan, slamming the shirt in my fist against the bathroom counter. "Why doesn't it fucking fit?"

Maybe eating normally wasn't a good idea after all.

I grab my phone, feeling the familiar sensation running over my skin and checking the time. I throw the cabinet open, grabbing my medicine, and stomping out into my bedroom.

Based on how I woke up and started the day, the rest of today's going to be shitty. I don't have any classes today but I do have work, and I'm trying to look decent for once in my life, but Ray took all my fucking clothes. Meaning that the only clothes I have only fit me in my freshman year of high school.

Sadly, eating properly meant getting my boobs back. And now that I'm at a relatively normal weight? I can't even fit into my clothes from seventh grade like I could just a few years ago.

Since I've acknowledged that I'm having a bitch-day, might as well unleash the part of me that begs for conflict.

I look down at the pill in my hand, contemplating whether or not to take it. What if it makes my mood worse?

I toss it back into the container before I can convince myself otherwise, taking a deep breath to prepare myself to get to yelling at my sister.

Throwing my door open, I make my way down the hall with loud, heavy footsteps. I turn the handle to Ray's room, ignoring her as I make my way to her closet, picking up the clothes from the floor I recognize as my own on the way.

"What are you doing?" She asks, her tone as harsh as the anger boiling inside me.

I ignore her, throwing open the door to her closet and taking my clothes off the hangers. She actually did have most of my closet. All the jokes weren't jokes after all.

"What are you doing?!" She asks me, louder this time. She reaches for my clothes but I push her away. "Where the fuck are you taking my clothes-"

"My clothes, Rachel-Mae, my. I paid for them, they belong in my closet. Get off of your ass and get your shit together because you're getting on my last nerve!" I turn to leave her room. She grabs hold of the band of my shorts, spinning me to look at her.