|Chapter 19|

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Enjoy Reading! ;)

|Chapter 19|

Satisfaction.

It's the act of fulfilling a need, desire, or appetite, or the feeling gained from such fulfillment, such as the feeling of satisfaction once feeding our hungry tummies, waking up from a deep, lovely sleep, achieving a goal, or in my case, facing my own problem.

As I said ever so many times before, I've been bullied quite a lot of times. All were ruthless, painful, and gruesome. Never once in my entire life was I able to fire back at my bullies or defend myself in any way possible. However, today, I completely broke that routine and exceeded my expectations. I suddenly felt invincible and independent. I don't know what came into me, but I know one thing.

I was on fire.

I was on fire, and it was not burning me.

I was on fire, and it felt so good.

It felt so good, being able to defend myself. It felt so good, firing back and not having my fortitude wavering. It felt so good, leaving with no battle scars, well, at least not on me. It felt so good, watching Jennifer fall into ashes right before me.

Running away wouldn't have helped me, anyway. It would have ruined the picture I'm trying to draw of myself. A girl so dark, strong, mysterious, and absolutely deadly. I've already messed up with mistakes I can't erase, and I refused to screw up any more.

With a sincere smile, I handed my untouched lunch to a janitor and wished him a good day. He thanked me, and it warmed my heart how happy he was.

I tried not to let the fact that I have Biology next ruin my good mood. I took out my books and the bee, Bary, from my locker and walked slowly to class. I was being stared at by many students, but I ignored their stares, putting on a straight face. I quietly entered the classroom and sat on my normal seat, waiting for the class to start as I was a few minutes early.

Three minutes later, the once empty chair to my right was occupied by Eleanor.

"Hey, girl!" she greeted cheerfully. I ignored her presence and averted my gaze to the window. I felt relief consume me as the seconds passed without her questioning my avoidance. Except a minute later, when she decided to annoy me, like she always does.

Poke.

Another poke.

And another poke.

"What do you want?" I rudely snapped at her. Her hand quickly snapped back to her side like a rubber band would when pulled too far. I saw hurt flash in her eyes before her head lowered and her fingers fidgeted furiously.

   I felt immensely guilty. It wasn't fair for her. That's why she should stay away from me. That's why we should not be friends. I don't know her, and neither does she. And I wasn't planning to change that.

"I-I thought w-we became f-frien-" I interrupted her stuttering self.

"No. No, we're not friends. We never were, and never will be. We're going to work on this stupid project and go separate ways after that. Got it?"

   As each word left my mouth, I felt a thousand knives being stabbed in me. Why does it seem right but feel so wrong?

You're going to get hurt, if you give up now, my conscience reminded.

"Okay," she whispered sadly.

   I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and prayed silently that what I'm doing really is for the best.

"Elizabeth?"

I shut my locker closed and turned around, looking at Eleanor, who was awkwardly drawing imaginary pictures on the ground with her small feet. I raised my eyebrows at her, questionably.

"Um, I was wondering if you're coming over today. You know, to finish our research and stuff," she said after clearing her throat.

Today was the first day I ever see her this nervous. She usually got over my witty comebacks and rude comments pretty quickly. But the way she started acting today, after that Biology class conversation, was very different. There was way too much tension in the air. It was awkward and very unpleasant.

"Sure," I replied simply. She nodded and looked at me with her brown eyes.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked. I nodded and followed her footsteps towards the school gates.

I wasn't. I wasn't ready. And the stares I was getting from the whole school wasn't helping either. No one bothered to conceal the fact that they were obviously talking about me and Eleanor. Replacing the loud chatter, hushed whispers filled the thin air around us.

   As per usual, beads of sweat appeared on my face and I felt my body get warmer and warmer, defying the mild October weather. I focused on breathing properly as we together made our way towards the school's parking lot.

"Justin's not coming along. He's leaving with his friend in a while," Eleanor informed me. The minute she said his name, my heart started beating a million times faster. Most probably because of what happened a few days ago, when he said that he knew me. That he felt my pain. That he felt like he could trust me.

And he just can't. It's too dangerous for the both of us.

   I nodded quickly and looked straight ahead of me, searching for Eleanor's car. My eyes landed at two figures: a boy and a girl. As we got closer, I recognized them both. It was Justin and Jennifer, and they looked like they were in a very intense conversation.

I felt like my stomach was being tied into a million knots. I felt very sick and nausea hit me like never before. I couldn't bear watching them talk. And I really didn't like how I'm reacting towards this.

   Is this the girl he mentioned to me a few days ago? Is this the friend Eleanor is talking about? Who's he dating, exactly? Is it really Eleanor? Or is it Jennifer? Am I jealous? Why do I freaking care? 

Dismalness

    It is the quality or state of being dismal (sad, gloomy, and dreary). It is the feeling when you're lacking joy and happiness, such as when you lose a loved one, or when your grades aren't as great as you wished they would've been. It is what I'm feeling at the moment.

Absolute melancholy.

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