BILLIE'S NIGHTMARE

Chapter 22

I heard my parents argue once again in the livingroom and it died down only after my dad walked out the door claiming to have to go back to work and my mother calling him a common workaholic, hopeless and helpless to his addiction.

I stayed locked in my room because I wasn't in the mood for people. And to add to that, I felt physically drained after letting Billie take over. Well, if this is Billie. Amy and Sarah knocked on my door a few times and requested that I have something to eat. That I shouldn't let anything affect my appetite else I would become unhealthy and weak. I didn't listen. I kept quiet and listened to my own thoughts rambling, listened to the aching of my body.

It didn't feel normal. I know what pain feels like. I know what body ache feels like. Hours of dance rehearsals after years of being unfit have been the perfect example to compare. But this didn't feel like that. It felt empty. Like a part of me was missing. I can't find the words to properly articulate what it is, but I know it isn't good.

"Eli," Donavan called from out my door.

God, I hate that name!

I wish I could pull the door open and scream, 'THAT'S NOT MY NAME!' but I don't want to make him or Amy and Sarah feel bad.

"Open the door, sweety. Whatever happened, I'm sure it's nothing a little baking can't fix." He tapped on the door twice to emphasize that I open.

I internally scoffed. Baking. I can't believe I ever thought that would help. It never fixed anything. It never made my problems miraculously disappear.

I waited until Don left before I got up and found something to change into. I hate the clothes my mother makes me wear. I don't feel the need to be seen in public wearing short skirts or pink dresses anymore. I find a tracksuit in my closet that I was modeling for one of my father's friends. He gave me a few to keep after the photoshoot that my mother had thanked him for, but shoved at the deepest corners of my closet afterwards.

When I was done, I jogged down the stairs and found my car keys on the kitchen counter. My mother was reading a book and cared to spare me a confused glance as I tended to walk out the door.

"Elizabeth—"

Click, swing, Bang!

I could almost hear the gasps from behind the door when I banged it shut. I strolled to my car and climbed inside, welcoming the smell of vanilla and tropical fruits that mixed with the new car smell blessing my nose.

I knew that Josh was home alone from the music pumping inside the house.

His neighbors must loove him.

I climbed out of my car, unable to help the grin on my lips and the anticipation rushing inside of me to see him. I knocked on the door and waited. No reply. I tried to ring the doorbell, although I screamed, HE CAN'T HEAR YOU, IDIOT! on the inside.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialled his number. The music stopped from the inside, and he picked up.

"I'm outside, open the door." I said the second he picked up.

Without a reply, the door swung open and Josh stood at the doorway, phone still against his ear and eyes slightly wide in surprise. But it immediately faded into a smile, one that made my insides warm and my stomach twist and tickle beneath my skin. He was the only person that smiled like that when he saw me. I couldn't help but return an equally elated smile. One that told him I was as happy to see him as he was to me.

Before I knew it, I was wrapped in his arms, mine around his neck while his occupied my waist.

"Hey," he greeted warmly. The sound of his voice after so long and after so much has happened was like a soothing melody.