Status: Hiatus
Tattoo
013
Kaitlin's not there.
School starts in ten minutes, and it takes slightly longer to get there. Usually Kaitlin is there first, grinning contently when she sees me. It makes me marginally happy to know there's someone who still enjoys my presence.
I know I don't.
But, she's not here. From this corner, I can see down the street she would be becoming from. It's empty. I close my eyes gently, feeling waves of quiet despair lapping at the boundaries of my mind. She could just be late, she could be ill, she could be... Stop being so pathetic!
My eyes snap open and I take a second to take in the still empty streets before turning towards the school, hands slipping into the pockets of my dark jumper. She's just ill. Or late. She's not avoiding me, ignoring me, she doesn't hate me. I haven't done anything.
I hope.
The corridor is empty and that, at least, is a blessing. I approach my locker, eyes flicking to the sides of the hideously painted halls. Through the windows in the doors, I can see classes happening. Teachers bring out papers from their bags and drawers, students sitting down at tables, talking, smiling, hiding.
It's too quite and my thoughts are beginning to climb. They feel alike to a nest of ants, busy and thriving, intruding and spreading at an alarming rate. Little snippets of 'fat', 'lonely' and 'monster' separate from the mass as I open the door to my locker, cold metal on skin. They hum under my epidermis, stealing my concentration when I try to remember what books I need out. My stomach feels heavy, suddenly, like all the pounds in my body have changed proportion and when I glance down it looks practically bulbous.
I inhale deeply through my nose, resting my forehead on the locker next to mine. It's not 'suddenly', it's always. So fat and and out of control. The disgust of my peers radiates even through the walls of the classroom where they cannot see me. My head begins to hurt in a way that has nothing to do with the metal pressed against my forehead.
With a sigh, I push away from the locker and place all my books back inside my locker, swinging it shut and feeling the lock click. My thoughts are so intertwined I barely comprehend where my feet are heading until I smell the familiar scent of strong detergent.
It's been four weeks, now.
School starts in ten minutes, and it takes slightly longer to get there. Usually Kaitlin is there first, grinning contently when she sees me. It makes me marginally happy to know there's someone who still enjoys my presence.
I know I don't.
But, she's not here. From this corner, I can see down the street she would be becoming from. It's empty. I close my eyes gently, feeling waves of quiet despair lapping at the boundaries of my mind. She could just be late, she could be ill, she could be... Stop being so pathetic!
My eyes snap open and I take a second to take in the still empty streets before turning towards the school, hands slipping into the pockets of my dark jumper. She's just ill. Or late. She's not avoiding me, ignoring me, she doesn't hate me. I haven't done anything.
I hope.
The corridor is empty and that, at least, is a blessing. I approach my locker, eyes flicking to the sides of the hideously painted halls. Through the windows in the doors, I can see classes happening. Teachers bring out papers from their bags and drawers, students sitting down at tables, talking, smiling, hiding.
It's too quite and my thoughts are beginning to climb. They feel alike to a nest of ants, busy and thriving, intruding and spreading at an alarming rate. Little snippets of 'fat', 'lonely' and 'monster' separate from the mass as I open the door to my locker, cold metal on skin. They hum under my epidermis, stealing my concentration when I try to remember what books I need out. My stomach feels heavy, suddenly, like all the pounds in my body have changed proportion and when I glance down it looks practically bulbous.
I inhale deeply through my nose, resting my forehead on the locker next to mine. It's not 'suddenly', it's always. So fat and and out of control. The disgust of my peers radiates even through the walls of the classroom where they cannot see me. My head begins to hurt in a way that has nothing to do with the metal pressed against my forehead.
With a sigh, I push away from the locker and place all my books back inside my locker, swinging it shut and feeling the lock click. My thoughts are so intertwined I barely comprehend where my feet are heading until I smell the familiar scent of strong detergent.
It's been four weeks, now.
♠ ♠ ♠
You guys are seriously the best readers I've ever had on one story. You can not comprehend the amount of affection I hold for all of you.Thank you for the comments, subs and recs, it's more than I could have hoped for c: