Take Me Away

Day Three

The rest of the day had passed by just the same as the one prior. Cassie still woke up and went downstairs, still greeting Stacey falsely rather than the mute way she had wanted to; the easier way, instead of pretending everything was alright. She still went out at the lake, only to stare, however, rather than to work on her art. However, she had taken a long shower, trying so hard not to contemplate any of the situation, though as that may have been. She still had returned to her room, still awake for hours, though this time, with no visit from Stacey. She still took the pain pills to help her fall into the darkness, as ironic as that sounded; many avoided the darkness—she welcomed it.

When Cassie had awoken, she still lied down, this time, eyes open, staring motionlessly at the ceiling. Rushing back into her head were Stacey’s words from the night of her visit, and once again, the hurt returned. The pain of lying, the pain of doing something so reckless and stupid, for letting herself be sucked up by that temptation, and in the end, not being able to fight it. She had caused everything. It was all her fault, and the worst part was, she knew the whole time that what she was doing was wrong. Her better judgment she had pushed aside purposely. She regretted it, more so than before.

It was day three of realization, and the third day where she was going to surely collapse. She had noticed slightly that Stacey was starting to sense something was up, but she hadn’t spoken it aloud. Just her reaction to Cassie’s lack of interaction and normal behavior was enough to signal it. Worst of all, she just didn’t have the courage to admit it. She was too scared of rejection, too scared of speaking it. She had acknowledged it in her mind, but to verbally acknowledge it—it seemed like it was too much for her. She didn’t want to take the risk, because deep down, she wasn’t sure if it was worth it. Would it honestly help her? She wasn’t sure. She had taken enough risks lately; this one, in her opinion, would be one too many.

Mechanically, she pulled the covers off of her body, slipped on her glasses, shielded herself from the view of the mirror, and pulled on a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt. It didn’t matter to her that it was the summer; this was what she would be wearing. She would hide herself from everyone’s view, the way she wanted it to be. She couldn’t stand being looked at anymore. Cassie didn’t believe she was worth it. Not after everything she’d done. She wasn’t worth any of the extra effort, she wasn’t worth the second glance—she just wasn’t worth a thing.

Without bothering to brush her hair, she threw it up into a messy bun, many curly, though somewhat frizzy blond ringlets were falling into her face, which she ignored. From what she remembered from the view of the mirror from the day prior, she was starting to develop light bags under her dark brown eyes, and all-around, she looked less happy, less put together, and just a complete and utter limp and pale mess. To her, it was almost sickening to look at herself, much less the thoughts of people that see what she’d let herself become.

As soon as she arrived in the kitchen, she found that Stacey had whipped up breakfast, which was already at the table, a cup of French Vanilla coffee in her hands and the usual newspaper sprawled over the table, her occasionally glancing at it. When Cassie arrived, Stacey looked up, a tired smile spreading on her face. She stood up and glided over to her younger sister, engulfing her into a hug, rubbing her back softly. Startled, Cassie hugged back, with a confused expression implanted on her face. When she pulled away, Stacey gave her a quick once-over, before frowning.

“Cass, you know I love you, right?”

These words surprised her at first, but she quickly nodded, replying in the monotone she had acquired over the past few weeks.

“Yes.”

Stacey hadn’t known what to expect, but she was astonished by her reply. Cassie had said the reply she wished to hear, but the way she had said it implied that she, in fact, hadn’t meant it. Stacey knew something was up, because the younger sister she knew didn’t speak like this. She didn’t act like this. Never had she been this introverted, or withdrawn, which would be a slightly better description. The older girl needed to get to the bottom of this, and fast, before it would be too late.

“Then you know that I only have your best interests at heart, correct?”

Cassie nodded wordlessly in response. Stacey narrowed her eyes, but Cassie ignored it. She wasn’t sure what her older sister was up to at the moment, and right now, she wasn’t entirely sure if she cared. She just wanted to flee. Those words that were coming out of her mouth could hurt—they already had, from what she could tell—and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d much rather leave while she had the chance.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

It was safe to say that she needed to make no attempt to act when that look of shock crawled on her face. She knew she was a little obvious, but she hadn’t realized she was that obvious. Immediately, a flash of guilt passed through her features, though she quickly masked it. Not soon enough, because Stacey had caught it. Nevertheless, Cassie still plastered the façade of perplexity on her face.

“What are you talking about?”

Stacey’s eyes had narrowed to the size of slits, not at all amused with this, more liked worried, actually. This wasn’t going well, not nearly as well as she would’ve liked. Cassie was making things difficult, and it wasn’t appreciated for a single second.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m sick and tired of being lied to. I care about you, but this just isn’t going to work. Tell me the truth. The full truth. I’m not playing this game with you, Cassandra.”

Cassie flinched at the full name; Stacey only called her that when she was being serious. Cassie’s defenses crumbled; she was sick and tired of the lies. All of the thoughts that swirled through her head those past days reappeared in her mind, which had occupied her so much at that moment, hitting her as hard as a twister, she hadn’t realized the tears slipping down her cheeks until it was too late to stop them, or to hide them.

“Fine. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”