Nothing But Each Other (book 2. of Nothing But Trouble)

15) Blank

Sitting on the edge of the bed without Aris was admittedly excruciating. Apparently, being around him had really worn off because now I was the one bouncing my leg up and down. The difference was that I had to keep a watch on my hands so I didn't dig my nails into my face. Usually, he would just hold my hands when I got like this. Except, being away from him was why this was happening in the first place.

I just wanted Aris or Minnie or Sonya or Harriet or even Flora. Being alone after everything that's gone on was enough to leave me on edge. While I'm used to being an extremely independent person things have changed. I had discovered enough dark secrets to leave me paranoid for life, and after what Beth had done I just needed to know that I wasn't losing my sanity. I needed to know that I would always have someone genuine with me. There's also the conflict of how much more difficult escaping together may be if we're all separated.

Realizing nothing was going to help and that I definitely wasn't getting any sleep any time soon I pulled out the journal. Uncapping the pen, with shaky hands I started writing whatever came to mind.

Dear Journal,
Everything right now is a wreck. As much as people complained about the Spring, and as hard as we worked to escape it, at least we knew what would come next. Well, until the end when Aris showed up. Even then, we had each other. There was a plan, and even if it had to be altered we stuck with it. That was enough.

Now though, time to plan and put it into action is running out. With us apart it's practically non-existent.

I just don't get it. Why does it matter to them that Aris and I are close? Why does that mean we can't share a room? Surely they know that when you trap people together so that they're all they have, some of them are bound to be close?

Unless, it's not that.

Are they onto us? Do they know that we know?

If that was the case why not just get rid of us now? What would be the point of them dragging it out? Am I missing something else or am I overthinking it? There's no way to tell, and that kills me. Because this time there's no way to just find something to distract myself. There's nothing around me that's familiar and gives off any sense of safety. We're trapped. Just like always, we've come to what seems like a dead end.

For once, this isn't doing anything so I'm just going to stare at the ceiling. I'll talk to you later,

Y/N

Closing the book and putting it on the bed, I laid on my back as I tried to figure out where to go from here.

So far though, the answer for that was blank.