How to Mend a Broken Heart in Ten Days
Scars Are More Than Skin Deep
" So let me get this straight, you ran away because your parents were emotionally abusive............. and you said you were from New York right?" Sam asked trying to look me in the eye for some sort of confirmation.
"Yep" I said not able to look him in the eye because that would give away my lie. Seriously I was the worst liar ever. That's why I was never the person people came to with their secrets, the one people would confide in or maybe it was because I had no friends. Often people stereotype rich people as snobby people who think they're better than anyone else. I didn't think that all, most of the time I feel worthless, like I don't deserve anything, much less anyone.
"So how did you get here?" Jacob said as he walked stuffing a hotdog in his mouth. He devoured it one bite, then licked his lips. His. Soft. Moist. Lips.
PG thoughts Aria. Think PG thoughts.
" I walked" The words slipped out of my mouth so fast before I could even stop them.
All eyes on were on me at this moment.
"From New York" He asked with his eyebrows raised.
"Ummm....... I meant I walked to the airport................ which is how I got - here, at this place" I tried to add in eye contact to make my lie even more believable but then I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. Damn my teenage girl hormones.
"How did you pay for ticket" He asked.
"I'm really tired, if you don't mind I'd like to lay down for a while"
Sam and Emily were nice enough to let me stay with them for a little while. When I first saw her, I was shocked by her scars but after spending fifteen minutes with her, I barely noticed them. They just became apart of her. They reminded me of the wounds on my body, the scars that I had both inside and out.
"Your room's on the left" Emily said pointing to the door.
" Thanks" I replied bending over to pick up my bagpack with my belongings not realizing my shirt was showing more than it was supposed to.
"What happened to your back" Paul asked.
My wounds weren't even close to being healed, they stitches were clearly visible and it was hard to look at.
"ITS NOTHING OK! JUST MIND YOUR BUSINESS" I yelled while pulling down my shirt far enough than it could even go. I ran to the room, not caring about the startled eyes that followed.
My mouth became dry,tears began to well in my eyes and my mind became fogged with memories that I tried so hard to forget.
Why was I even here. How could you make someone love you, when your own mother doesn't love you? Much less, if you can't even love yourself.
They say wounds heal with time, but at this rate was it even possible?
"Yep" I said not able to look him in the eye because that would give away my lie. Seriously I was the worst liar ever. That's why I was never the person people came to with their secrets, the one people would confide in or maybe it was because I had no friends. Often people stereotype rich people as snobby people who think they're better than anyone else. I didn't think that all, most of the time I feel worthless, like I don't deserve anything, much less anyone.
"So how did you get here?" Jacob said as he walked stuffing a hotdog in his mouth. He devoured it one bite, then licked his lips. His. Soft. Moist. Lips.
PG thoughts Aria. Think PG thoughts.
" I walked" The words slipped out of my mouth so fast before I could even stop them.
All eyes on were on me at this moment.
"From New York" He asked with his eyebrows raised.
"Ummm....... I meant I walked to the airport................ which is how I got - here, at this place" I tried to add in eye contact to make my lie even more believable but then I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. Damn my teenage girl hormones.
"How did you pay for ticket" He asked.
"I'm really tired, if you don't mind I'd like to lay down for a while"
Sam and Emily were nice enough to let me stay with them for a little while. When I first saw her, I was shocked by her scars but after spending fifteen minutes with her, I barely noticed them. They just became apart of her. They reminded me of the wounds on my body, the scars that I had both inside and out.
"Your room's on the left" Emily said pointing to the door.
" Thanks" I replied bending over to pick up my bagpack with my belongings not realizing my shirt was showing more than it was supposed to.
"What happened to your back" Paul asked.
My wounds weren't even close to being healed, they stitches were clearly visible and it was hard to look at.
"ITS NOTHING OK! JUST MIND YOUR BUSINESS" I yelled while pulling down my shirt far enough than it could even go. I ran to the room, not caring about the startled eyes that followed.
My mouth became dry,tears began to well in my eyes and my mind became fogged with memories that I tried so hard to forget.
Why was I even here. How could you make someone love you, when your own mother doesn't love you? Much less, if you can't even love yourself.
They say wounds heal with time, but at this rate was it even possible?