Miles had brought me to the library, and I guess it was the place I asked for. It was queit, and and I don't think my parents would ever look in here. Miles got us a table, just here the other tabloff the general area wes were. He slid into his seat, and set some of my bags down on the other seat. He offered to carry those, and I should have said thank you... But, I didn't.
I slid down into the opposite chair from him, and I swear I could still feel the humidity clinging onto my skin. "Sure is hot and humid here," I remarked. The weather in this dump of a town wasn't that different from Mississipi, but, it still was hard to handle.
"Southeastern coast . . . it gets unbearably humid here often in the summer." I could hear him say, but I was thinking about something else... How did those pictures get in my bag, I was positive I burned them! I usually put the 'special photos' in my binder, but after what happened in Mississip, I burned them. I remember the bonfire like it was yesterday.
I remember the smoke curling taller and taller into the night sky, as we carried on, just the four of us. I remember us going swimming while Ethan tried to start the fire. I remember we having to help him, and us maybe teasing him just a bit. I remember throwing those photos into the fire, like it was a basketball game and it was the winning score.
God. I missed that place so much. I swallowed the lump that had made its way up to my throat, down.
"Anyway . . . want to tell me a bit more about yourself and why you ran away?" I snapped back into reality. I was back in the library, right. I'm here, in this library, in this town.
I was surprised how those stupid photos made my mood change. They were like remote controls for my emotions. I bit my lip, noticing Miles watching me.
"Oh, ye-yeah." I felt like his eyes were trying to bore into my soul. "Well..." I thought about it. 'Tell me about yourself.' God. Its been such a long time seen someone asked me that. What do I say? I felt stupid. I should tel him about everything what happened. Five months ago, the worst time in my life. No one knew, but.... I had a feeling, I needed to tell someone.
I had to tell someone about that Eric had screamed at me, how I was getting threats from anonymous people. How every time I walked through my old town, all the kids would whisper. How they called my 'names,' how my house got egged that one night. That they had a traditional bonfire without me, that they tried beating me up after sschool; so I had to take another route for the rest of the school year.
I wanted to tell him about how my dad came home some nights, drunk, and then he would yell at me after I helped him inside. I wanted to tell him about how I collapsed at my moms funeral, how everything came tumbling down. I wanted to tell him about the night after my mom died, my dad came home more drunk than I've ever seen him before. How he grabbed his gun and tried to shoot the roof off. How he got arrested for a week, and I lived home alone. How badly I wanted to smack him, for almost shooting me. I wanted to tell him about how my Stepmother would shove me under the sink, and how musty it smelled.
I could feel tears filling my eyes, they drowned out my vision and I closed them. Don't cry in front of him. I forced the tears back, the lump in my throat, the way I wanted to just sob on the table and sit there for hours. I forced it all back, and I forced myself to look at Miles.
I didn't realize how handsome he was, light blue eyes, very dark brown hair, and he was tall, only just a tiny bit taller than me. I liked how his hair did his own thing, sometimes falling into his eyes, like it was doing when we were walking, or sometimes just being messy, like it had its own mind. I sighed silently, I could see my hands shaking.
I opened my mouth, but closed it just in time, because rushing up my throat was everything that happened, all the words were just about to spill out, but I stopped them.
"Well, everything... Is..." I took a deep, shaky breath. "Fine," I lied, I gave the most fake smile, it even hurt myself to do it.
He raised an eyebrow as I said it, he reminded me of my dad, with all this eyebrow raising. My dad raised his eyebrows, he always did. When he was suprised, when he knew that I was lying, or just plain confused. I remember when I was little, he would raise his eyebrows and respond to my nonsense with 'Really? Wow. You're kidding me.'
Stupid memories, making me sad and happy in a minute.
Miles sighed, "Really? Every thing's fine? Is that why you ran away from home?" His eyes bore into me harder, like he was trying to find something.
I sat straighter, would he notice that my makeup was off? How it was smeared, as if I was doing it in a rush. How there were sags under my eyes, as if I didn't sleep at all for the past two days. How my hair was probably frizzy, from the humidity. How from running for about twenty minutes made sweat trickled over my face. Maybe even how it doesn't look like I ate for days, which I didn't.
"I... I- I have a cat!" I blurted, and unzipped my backpack that was laying beside me. I looked inside, and inside was my sleeping beauty. i smiled at Sherlock, my baby, my child. I loved him so much. If it was my choice, he'd be the only person that would ever be in my family.
I reached in, and grabbed him from the stomach. He looked at me, like, 'Can you not?' So I set him back down, and he curled back up.
"Well, he's in there." I pointed at the open backpack, and took a deep breath.
That was my mistake.
Everything tumbled out. Well, not everything, thank god. I told him about how my dad came home drunk sometimes, but not the time he almost shot me. I told him about my mother and how she died, but not the time at collapsed at her funeral. I told him how my stepmother locked me in the cabinets under the sink,but not how that I didn't do anything to stop it. I told him about how life was killing me, and how I so badly wanted to end it.
I looked up at him, tears clouding my vision. "I- I... I'll be right back," I sat up, and rushed to the bathroom, which I saw in the way in. God, it was time to go look at myself in the mirror. The wreck I was, and it was time to pull myself back together.