Beneath It All

1 - F***ing Kids ;)

A/N^ book cover made by a_tree_and_her_boy. THANK YOU!!

I rewrote this chapter 6 times.

C H A P T E R O N E

A s t r a *.✧

Sometimes I like to look at the sky and just think.

It's a dark canvas freckled with a million droplets of white paint. Little pinpricks twinkle like diamonds in the sky.

Hundreds, thousands, wish upon these burning balls of fire every night, releasing upon them their desperate undying desires and wishes, whispering their thoughts and hopes and dreams into the cool night air and praying by some miracle that it will be okay.

For some, they request their closed books and stories are permanently erased and burned to ashes. For others, they beg and plead desperately for an entirely fresh new notebook, one with a gleaming leather spine and pretty bindings that withholds countless generous opportunities and hope. Others pray out of gratitude for the smooth pages and ink carved onto the page that dictates their life.

Some of us wish we could put the pen down.

Despite the first signs of dawn reaching from the horizon, the night sky was impossibly black. Black, dark, broody. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the air rise up through my nose, down my trachea and into my chest.

Existential thoughts and questions invade my mind from every angle, flooding every last neuron until all I can think about is how pathetic and worthless I am. How one day my name will be cast away into the infinite abyss of time and history and nobody will ever remember me. The name 'Astra Thatcher' will one day mean nothing to nobody.

I take ahold of that thought and allow it to engulf me, consuming me until my lungs are being suffocated and tears are welling in my eyes.

I feel so alone in this place. Here, I have nobody but myself.

I hiss. One, two. I feel the pain spiking up my arm before I see the red.

I don't know why I do this to myself. I like to pretend I do, but I really don't. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

Better better better.

*

"Did you fall down and hurt your arm again, Asee?"

Reality hits me like a blow to the head. My mind was stuck like a record player, constantly replaying the same moments from last night.

I took a deep breath and turned around, plastering a smile on my face. Finley was right next to me. He peered eagerly up at me, prodding my arm with his good hand. A throb of pain shot up my arm, and I curled my toes, wincing inside.

"Yeah... yeah, I did."

I handed him his bowl of cereal for breakfast and he took it over to the table, laying it down with a heavy thunk. As he sat down, I grabbed some ice out the freezer for myself before taking a seat opposite him.

His hand was covered in a thin sheet of plastic, the skin a gnarly red. He'd burnt it ever so badly last night. Brad told us not to worry or do anything, saying the hospital wouldn't care anyway and that we'd just be wasting money. Wasn't that their job though? To care?