Keira

t h i r t e e n

Keira felt it in waves.

Huge, thunderous sheaths of guilt crashing down on her shoulders, building a weight too heavy to bear. She struggled to live like this, putting one foot in front of the other as if a tangible mass was hung on her limbs.

Waking up was the last thing she wanted most days.

She always felt so, so, empty, but on the days that any emotion seeped through the cracks in her armor, they weren't ever good.

She feels like she's being suffocated by the lies she's told and the things she's done and the things she's seen that are unspeakably, undeniably wrong.

"Will you get away from me?" She shrieked at a couple of wannabe groupies that were swarming her. They dispersed as quickly as they had come, leaving Keira to wander hand in hand with her thoughts. Alone.

She shoved open the bathroom door, breathing raggedly and trying not to break down. Not here. Not now.

"AAGH!" She released a short, high pitched scream, feeling tears leak out of the corner of her eyes, then slamming her hands into the sink's edge because she couldn't hold it in any longer.

Keira faced the mirror, but the person she saw in the glassy surface, her reflection, didn't look like herself.

The girl's hair fell in neat, crimped waves of golden brown and her make up was smudged at the edges of her eyes, running down her cheeks like an ink smear.

Who was this girl? The girl with the big smile and pretty face and tight clothes wasn't someone she recognized.

Keira took a step back, her boots clicking on the tiled floor.

Who was she?

Slowly, a stall door opened and a girl peeked out tentatively.

Keira swung around, a retort dancing on the edge of her cherry red lips, when she stopped.

Annie.

The girl she'd given hell to for no reason at all.

Though that did fit the description for many girls.

"Go ahead." She said instead, holding her arms out. "Make fun of me. Push me down." Every word was a venom laced dart. "Do to me the things I did to you. Get your revenge." Her voice dropped deathly low. "I don't care anymore."

Annie tried to hide her tremble, swallowing shakily.

"I don't want to hurt you." Her hands shook visibly but she breathed deeply to stabilize them. "I'm not like you."

Those words were supposed to sting, and it would've, if it were anyone but Keira. She was too dead inside to feel anything anymore. Everything felt like a hazy blur and nothing stood out in her life except for the deep waves of deprecation that shook her entire body.

"I don't hurt people for fun. I don't hurt people to feel something because I'm empty inside." Annie looked more confident with each word. "I pity you, Keira. I may not have as many friends as you. I may not be popular and pretty like you. But I don't have to lash out at the world to act like I'm not falling apart every second."

She knew that Annie was right. She knew it before she started talking.

Annie might've been Keira's friend in a different world. One where she wasn't subjective to society's whims. Keira didn't know much about Annie. But she knew lots of people thought she was nice and shy.

Annie looked like a typical girl next door. She wore a hoodie today, no doubt over some graphic tee, and plain jeans. Her converse were scuffed and obviously worn with time.

Mitchell dressed plainly in the same style.

For her, they represented the lucky ones. People who were fortunate enough to lead perfectly average lives on the side, away from the drama and conflict that snagged onto Keira as soon as she slipped on a short skirt and decided to go to a party with her friends.

"Are you going to say anything?" Annie asked, much like Maia had.

Her voice was hoarse, but she managed to say, "I'm sorry."

"You can say sorry a million times, but it doesn't erase what you did."

Keira numbly stared at Annie. Her tears had stopped, leaving dried makeup on her face in messy tracks.

"I know."

Keira left the restroom feeling the waves crashing on her shoulders all over again, as if they'd never left.