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You know that feeling when everything and everyone seems wrong?
You wake up in the morning and instantly wish you hadn’t, or worse, you want a redo of your entire life.
It’s the stuff people go to therapists for, and the stuff that keeps people like me up all night, hoping against hope we won’t wake up in the morning altogether.
Only to be disgusted with ourselves after.
That’s how today started, morbid and awful.
I didn’t have my usual happy pill from Kirian, and now, I hate myself for wanting Kir merely to feel better about myself.
Try being a human, Kim.
Not today, brain. Leave me alone.
Like any teenager with issues, plural, I hide from them by sneaking off to the garden. It’s weird how I recognise having issues, but I don’t want to name said issues.
Naming them is taboo. Naming them means I have to get into a rabbit hole of myself and I kind of don’t like that. Myself, I mean.
Today is just too much. Too raw and too real, and I’ve had enough with everything, and everyone.
I bottle it inside the same way any good, typical teenager with issues would.
Mum is lucky to have a daughter like me. I don’t take it out on people or drugs. Parties or boys. I have other purging methods, ones she approves of.
Such as starving myself.
I jab my fork at the bottom of my food container but don’t take a bite of my salad. I’m not in the mood to vomit; it’ll make my stomach way worse.
No, thanks.
If Elsa finds out I bailed out on her and Teal, she’ll be upset, but I don’t want her to see the puffiness under my eyes or the hollowness in them.
No matter how much makeup I put on, I can still feel the tears from last night.
I fell asleep crying after Xander shut me down so harshly. I can still sense the blade, hear the crunch against the bone and feel him twisting it inside.
He didn’t even need a new weapon. He just used that rusty knif
e he left in my heart that day seven years ago.
My lips are still tingling from the way he kissed me, how he grabbed me and held me like we’ll never be apart in any reincarnation.
Then he pushed me. He brought me up for air just so he could drown me all over again.
I stab my fork in a piece of tomato.
I hate him.
I hate him so fucking much.
“What did that food do to you, Kimmy?”
My war against the salad halts for a second as Ronan slides to my side, grinning wide. “There you are.”
“How did you find me?”
“I have special skills, chéri.” He plucks a piece of lettuce, chews on it, then throws it away. “How do you eat this shit?”
