What You Caused

52.

In my free time I re read the my diaries countless times. It put my mind a little to ease when I realised Lucas had taken the last dairy of the stack. The one where I hadn't written much about how I disliked my appearance and the one where there was only a few entries.

A small part of me however, wished it hadn't been that one. I wished he had read the others where the pages were tear stained and where I had written how much I was hurting from whatever insult Lucas had thrown me that day; I wanted him to be aware of how much I had hurt.

It even made me consider telling him everything. I wanted him to feel guilty for what he caused; I wanted the guilt to eat away at him. Was that horrid or cynical of me?

However, just seeing as how he genuinely believed I was over reacting over everything that day made me realise that he probably wouldn't even care how much hurt he had inflicted upon me. But then again maybe I should stop making assumptions - we all know where that took me last time don't we?

Anyways, I continued to re read all the entries, putting everything he had said to me to memory.

I genuinely can't believe there was a time where I had believed that what he had said wasn't as bad as I made it out to be...because re reading everything I had written made me realise everything was worse than anything I had remembered prior to finding the diaries.

Another few habits I had fallen back into was impulsive cleaning and impulsive re decorating. Although I went through my days having barely enough energy to leave my bed and continually felt fatigued and exhausted - I was non stop cleaning my room.

It was a way to get out of my head - out of my thoughts. It had been a coping mechanism of mine about two years ago to distract me from the hunger and it worked well and seemed to be working well again.

So far I had changed the position of my bed, desk and my beside table and had changed my bed covers already 6 times, hoovered at least once everyday and wiped down every possible surface I could find.

I moved Harry so he stood more comfortably near my dresser and had even decorated him with fairy lights to adhere to the Christmas theme. I had ordered led lights and some of those fake vine leaf things from amazon and a couple more miscellaneous items to place on my shelves in my room.

As I'm cleaning out the inside of my desk drawer and organising my socks by colour, Mia and Grace make their visit for the day.

"Alright that is enough!" Mia exclaims, dropping down her bag on my bed with more force than needed, making my entire bed shake. "I know you're hurting baby because he-shall-not-be-named is an ass, but we need to get you out of this room, you've been stuck here for the past week and you need a change of environment to clear your head."

As Mia is saying this, Grace walks over to me and places the back of her hand against my forehead to check my temperature. "You don't feel hot any more and you don't have any more sniffles so I think it's safe to leave the house."

"It's ok, I'm kind of busy here," I say, motioning to my sock organisation.

"Bella please," Mia pleads.

I shake my head. "No guys please, I just want to stay-"

"Bella please I hate seeing you like this!"

I stiffen immediately, Mia's distressed tone catching me off guard. I halt my sock organising for a second.

"Mia!" Grace scolds, narrowing her eyes. "Stop it!"

"I'm sorry," she responds more quietly now, sitting down on the edge of my bed, her eyes down casting to the carpeted floor of my bedroom. "I'm just so worried, I've never seen you like this." When she looks up her eyes are glassy with unshed tears and the knot in my stomach only gets bigger.