Abused and Unloved~

Chapter Twenty Five

What was I supposed to do with this new bought time that I didn't actually account for?

I didn't want the things around me to change, I wanted to stay right here— in this semi perfect bubble I had. In this bubble I was safe.

Before, I always had to make decisions for myself because if I didn't, I would die. It was my basic survival instinct.

Now what?

I don't live this melodramatic life of risk, I'm just me now. I'm not the abused girl, I'm not running, I'm not hurt, I'm not neglected, I'm not hiding anything. Abuse made me who I am, now who am I? Who am I supposed to be?

This wasn't how my story was supposed to go, and now that it has— I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do.

Was I being forced to think ten more years instead of ten more feet?

"Cortez?" I snap out of it and look him in his eyes. He skeptically wipes a tear off my cheek that I hadn't noticed had fallen.

"Where does that pretty head of yours run off to?"
"... not sure."

His face contorted in confusion but I sat up and forced myself to climb out of bed to escape his stare.

I travel to the bathroom and gently wash my face and brush my teeth, I take my hair out of the bun that was destroyed by my sleep and force it into a neater one.

There was no point in getting dressed, all I wanted to do was shower and put on a different set of pajamas.

Returning to my room I see Kaylee had gone and Jayden was where I left him looking to me for answers.

"You alright?" I didn't understand the question because I hadn't felt alright in a while. I was always in some sort of neutral state, constantly anxious that something was going to tip the balance. I was scared that I would always be the girl who uses her past as an excuse. I didn't want to be that girl.

"Where's Kaylee?" He was noticeably bothered by my avoidance of the question, "She's telling your parents you're up, are you good?" I shrug mentally blaming my hangover for my stale vibe.

"You don't know?"
"I don't." My voice didn't have any strength, but I avoided eye contact in hopes of dissuading him from pushing the subject.

"Well what do you know?"

I huff walking over to my closet and grabbing a hoodie, pulling it over my head in one movement, glad to have some coordination back.

"I don't want to think about important tests or college apps yet, or even growing up. I want to stay right here. Things change and bad stuff starts to happen."

My back faced him so I could avoid feeling embarrassed by my innermost somewhat immature thoughts.

"I remember sitting on that hill with you outside of school, listening to you always talk about the future, and escaping. Flying away."

That bird. The bird that was free and had the ability to make its own choices. The universe doesn't give a warning label when it finally allows you to make your own choices. It sort of just shoves you forward and hopes you figure it out.

"That was when I had something to fly away from."
"I get it, but— I also.. don't..?"

Impulsively, I wanted to get frustrated at him for not understanding, but I had to remind myself no one could feel and think exactly what I did.

I turn back around to face him, seeing him sitting back on my bed with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me.

"Life's not perfect— far from it. But what if... what's coming next is worse? I always spoke of the future, almost certain that I would never get one, but now that I do..."