The Runaways: Chapter 15: Cathlina

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I'm alone in the cafeteria now. Trenton left, and nobody has woken up yet. I don't think I can go back to sleep. Too much has happened since I woke up this morning. Too much on my mind.

Why did he try to kiss me? I've known him for too long. I've never once wanted that. Now he won't talk to me. Maybe I should've let him.

What am I thinking? I've known him since I was four, I can't kiss him. That wouldn't be right. But, if I don't, he probably won't ever talk to me again. Why am I such a horrible friend?

I never should've accepted the authority Mr. Leight offered to me. It's a huge mistake. I knew I can't handle it! I've taken on more than I can deal with. I need help this time.

I've never needed this much guidance before. I feel like I've lost a limb or one of my senses. I feel hopeless.

I sigh and exit the room. Maybe the smell is just getting to me. Even thought we'd covered the damage up, it didn't stop the horrid smell from wafting through the room.

I stand in the middle of the hallway and shake my head. I still feel the pressure on me, weighing down every step I take. I feel like I have a chain around my leg, restraining me from thinking straight. The thoughts are just in front of me, but I can't reach them.

I guess I can do something until everyone else wakes up. I can talk to someone, but the only one to talk to is Trenton, but he doesn't like me at the moment. I wish he hadn't changed so suddenly.

Well, what am I going to do this early in the morning? Announcements don't start until 7:30, so I have a while. I don't generally read because I was never taught very much about reading and writing. I don't go to normal school. I'm taught in a room by a teacher, but I'm mostly taught of weapon use and how to escape from the police.

My handwriting is terrible and I can't read novels. They're too complicated for me. Besides, when do I have time to read? Well, except for now. I'm usually too busy to worry about reading. But I find the time to draw. I have a pad of various papers I've stapled together. I can't get an actual drawing notebook because it's too risky to try and buy one. I have some pencils and markers I've found, or actually, stolen, from Mr. Leight's office. He never gave us our own pencils because he had a limited supply. I took only a few pencils and markers of colors I normally use. It isn't like he was going to draw any pictures anyway. I might as well make use of his supplies.

I sit down at the desk in my room. I'll draw something in my makeshift notebook. I still have some pages to fill.

Near the back of the stack of papers, I find a clean page. At first, I start drawing a portrait of Siana, but it just makes me too sad. I'll get my drawing wet.

Instead, I decide to make a comic strip of the exchange between Trenton and me. I remember every word he said, and I try my best to spell correctly and make it neat. I included the parts where he slammed into me, up until he left the cafeteria. But, this just makes me want to rip the paper with the tip of my pencil.

I can feel anger broiling inside me, and I'm sure it's showing in my face. Luckily, nobody is around to see my ridiculous feelings. It just baffles me how the destruction Jedda caused turned into him almost kissing me. It doesn't seem quite right. He should be more considerate toward the people we have lost.

Maybe drawing isn't the best thing to calm me down. I rip the pages I just used out of my notebook. I throw them at a trash can by my door, but the paper balls just bounce off the rim. I don't get up to put them in the container. It isn't important right now.

The silence of this place is beginning to bother me. It is never silent for this long. The only thing I can think of that will cool me off is my own voice. I've always felt comforted by my own voice, telling me that everything will be alright.

“He probably didn't mean to make me uncomfortable. I think he wants to help me,” I tell myself.

It makes sense. He even said that the tragedy wasn't my fault, even though I said it was. He was just trying to make me calm down and understand that these things happen, especially to people like me. I could've died if Siana hadn't stepped in to save me. Trenton would've done the same for me. And I would've done the same for him.

But I just want him to be my friend. Before he left, the thing he said really hurt me. When I said he's like my brother, he said, “I don't want a sister.” I guess he's thought of me differently than what I've thought of him.

I should talk to him. Maybe I can clear all of this mess up. As long as he doesn't try to kiss me again, we should be all good.

I get up to set things straight, but I hear a knock at my door.

I open it to see Jedda staring me down, a knife raised, ready to strike.

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