last resort

t w e n t y

AN UNLOCKING DOOR reverberates through the unhumanly silent street, constantly mocking me, leaving me alone to die with my thoughts.

It's punishment. I want to go back home.

Back to England. Back to Lora and my family. I don't like Miami anymore. I never wanted to move across the globe in the first place. It wasn't as if my brain will become any richer. But it was America. I always wanted to live in America. The name rolled off my tongue as if I'm bragging about owning a diamond as big as my iris.

I don't want to be here with backstabbing friends and a lying mother. I want to be at home and comfortable and warm and surrounded by those who care about me for me, not for fame.

But it will never happen. There will always be someone who would try to use me as an advantage for themselves without asking. If she requested nicely, I may have considered talking to my mum, but no, Phoebe is too dumb to know about anything.

Not long after the lock reverberated, weight falls down next to me, strong arms hugging me tightly. I inhale a strong scent of lemon sanitizer and medicine, comforting me hyperventilating lungs.

I can't find the strength the wrap my arms around him, but I tug his shirt tightly, squeezing the balls of material tightly in my fists. I bury my face in his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. I never ever thought a heartbeat is calming. Hearts are constantly racing, constantly changing.

He strokes my hair messily, tangling his fingers into the curly white locks. His voice raises in no syllable, into no sound. As if he could sense the displeasure I'll have if I had to answer all his quizzing questions right now. I would give him foggy answers, in anyways, which is as much help as putting a drunken behind the wheel of a vehicle. I'm content with silence. Silence is stronger than a million words spoken by a million gods.

Even though he doesn't say a single word, he still comforts me. Tightly. Shudders run through my body, another sob escaping in my weakened state. I can't believe I allowed pettiful teenage girls to bring me down. I promised my dad this wouldn't happen. I broke a promise, too.

I release his shirt, trying to wipe the smudges of tear mixed with eye and face makeup, instead burying my face in my hands. "I'm sorry," I snivel, unable to find myself. "I didn' mean to chase you ou' of ye' house in the middle of the night."

He sighs heavily, as if I just insulted him. "Hey, look at me," he whispers cautiously. He rests both his hand on either sides of my face. I drop my hands to my lap, slowly dragging my eyes up to his. He rubs his thumbs over my cheeks, staring deeply into my eyes.

Even in the weak moonlight cast upon us, his eyes reflect it like a mirror, catching the subtle blue perfectly. "Don't be sorry," he whispers, sliding next to me. I stare up at the stars. The moon mocks my every move, as if he knows what Ashlynn said. He's throwing me with his mocking light.

"You going to tell me what's going on?" He asks softly, his voice breaking from the whisper.

I inhale my sobs, choking on them as if they're water running up my nose. "Backstab and broken promises," I snivel. It doesn't even sound half as bad as I give away. I'm overreacting. I'm always overreacting.

He moves his body next to mine, his gaze fixed at the sky in awe. He hugs his knees lazily, keeping him up steady. He's still dressed in today's skinny jeans and t-shirt, bare feet and without bracelets. The black stud in his bottom lip sucks even to the pale skin it's surrounded by. I lazily look back up at the speckled black hole surrounding the earth, crossing my legs. My skin press against the grass, the juices coating patches on my ankles.