Half of their childhood was ripped from them. Taken at a young age they didn't know anything about the world they were brought into.
But at least they had each other
Nathaniel Walker and Everleigh Taylor were thrust into a dark world before their mi...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
Grayson Landon Taylor
I knocked softly on the door, only entering when permission was given for me to enter. It was already almost noon and I hadn't heard or seen anything from my sister who was normally up with the birds. I hadn't even heard her typing which I could normally hear from my bedroom next door.
I open the door slowly, peeping my head through. Leigh was away but she was still lying in bed, the blankets wrapped tightly around her. She hadn't changed from what she came in wearing the night before and her hair was a mess of frizzy curls.
I was worried, normally Leigh was the most put-together person, she took pride in her appearance and how she presented herself. But what set alarm bells were me was her eyes were red, meaning she was either doing drugs or she had been crying.
I had seen how she had all sorts of distaste for drugs, having grown up around the effects of it so it was most likely the latter even though that was worrying on its own.
"Good morning." I greet her carefully.
"Hi." She rubs her eyes before smiling at me. "What's up?"
"I just came to check on you, I haven't seen you today and I got worried," I tell her
"You're so sweet, it's a shame you never let people see the teddy bear you are." She comments making me scowl and her smile widens. "I'm okay, just tired. Yesterday was a busy day I guess. Also, I had a meeting that needed to be taken in private?"
"You had a meeting dressed like that?" I ask, my mouth speaking before my brain had time to process what I was saying but Leigh laughs.
"I should probably be offended about that but honestly I could be dead before I attend a work meeting looking like this." She sits up and gathers her hair into a very messy bun. "I had a therapy appointment this morning."
Again I frown. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She assures me as she starts making her bed, I round the other side to help her. "It was more of an upkeep appointment to make sure I don't digress mentally."
"Does therapy help?"
Therapy had always been a taboo subject in our house, mom and dad didn't see the benefits, there was only one therapist in our small town and mom and dad didn't want her to know our business and think bad about them or something.
"I would say so, it helps in the long run but it isn't fun. It's so hard talking about the things that are worrying you especially if you have been taught to keep your emotions bottled up. It makes you cry and feel miserable but slowly over time you start to feel lighter and happier, you don't have so much weighing you down. You are more adjusted to your environment and the changes that happen don't make you feel out of control, instead, you are ready for them." She walks over to her dressing table and puts away some of the things that had been sitting on top. "So what are we doing today?"
