Our Wicked Ways •In editing•

Pep Talk

There's a kind of tired that needs a good night's sleep, and another that needs so much more. It was like I was wearing one extremely heavy jacket on my shoulders, carrying it around all day, but the jacket was, in fact, my bones.

I didn't sleep at all last night and apparently, it was showing. I had been told by numerous Hilltop people as I passed that I needed to lie down for a few, but I refused and probably couldn't even if I tried.

All of this was getting too much, and I wished I could just leave but my Dad had made sure I had eyes on me constantly. This all seemed incredibly stupid to me down to the very bone, no one wanted me around anymore, I didn't need someone to tell me that because I knew. My Dads ditched me off here at Hilltop again, my brothers growing up and don't need my protection, everyone else pretty much just tolerated me and was doing fine and Paul, well, he just hates me. I was either better off gone or just plain dead, at least that's what I wanted.

"Dylan!" I hear a bubbly male voice from behind me, which I mentally groaned at. I was in no state of mind for happy go-getter people.

I spun around nonchalantly, expressing no emotion on my face as I stuffed my hands into my back pockets. I could see Doctor Harlan then, walking up to me with a smile on his face. Great the guy supposed to make me better, like there was a cure for the passion for dying.

"Hey Dylan, just the girl I was looking for." He smiles warmly, finally standing a few yards in front of me. He refuses to carry on, just staring and smiling waiting for a response and I managed a nod of the head. "I was hoping we could speak in my trailer?"

"Look I get it you think I'm cuckoo for coco pops but I'm doing just fine on my own." I fake a smile politely and begin to walk away.

"Your life does not get better by chance Dylan, it gets better by change." He speaks, pressing a hand on my chest which I desperately wanted to smack off. "All I'm asking for is a five-minute chat." 

I stood silently staring in the man's Hazel eyes. This was all bullshit, I remember going to therapy when I was a teenager and it never did me any good. For christ's sake, it's the end of the world everyone has problems I wasn't just going to buckle down and sob my heart out to a guy I barely knew.

"Yeah, no thanks." I reply, brushing past him and walking to the little hutch I sat at before, it seemed to be my favorite place here in Hilltop. Observing the people from a distance but not getting close enough for me to see the ugly.

I sat down on the wooden steps, pulling my knife out and carving pointless things there. After a while I looked up, watching the little swarm of people rushing around doing their jobs. And even in the crowd, I managed to pick out Paul from the rest.

My anger bubbled again and I threw my knife down on the steps. It made me more hostile than I had possibly been that I had truly messed this up for good, my only friend, if I could even call him that now after my confessions with myself.

"You like him right?" Her voice called out as she sat on the steps with me.

I didn't look at her but I knew her voice, hell I'd never forget it. Of course I knew she was not truly there, but it was real enough for me. And yeah, maybe I was making it easier for my insanity to bury itself a home in my mind by speaking back, but how could I not? She's my Mom.

"I do." I manage to say, watching him speaking to the Hilltop people.

"Sweetheart, I know you think you're a monster, and you don't deserve anyone's sympathy or love but you're wrong... Look at me." He speaks softly like she always would. I gradually turn my head to look at her, and she looked just the same as the picture I kept in my head. I smiled, as I looked at her hair. It was a lovely whisky, the colour of fallen leaves browned and sleek with the first rain of autumn. How such a tint could play with the light, like peering at the sun through a jar of pine honey. And her brown eyes shone brightly, reflecting the warmth of the sun. They were such a unique colour, a mix of light and dark. They looked at my icy blue ones, so big and beautiful, so much emotion held inside. "You've been through so much, and you've been strong for far too long. It's okay to take a break baby, but you have to pick yourself back up now. You need to start to fix this mess." 

I listen intently, she always knew what to say to me. But I couldn't fix it, it was too late. "You don't understand Mom, everyone hates me. I've dug myself into this hole too deep."

"You're never in too deep, love." She says, looking at me. "Give yourself today, to breathe and to be sad. Tomorrow, pick yourself up fake a smile and right your wrongs. Don't go disappointing me now."

I sigh, knowing she was right. I guess I did just need a little reminder that I will get past this if I really want it. I stood up hoping off the step and picking up my knife, when I looked up to say my goodbye she was gone as fast as she had appeared. I smiled small, hoping she was right and that tomorrow I could begin to mend things back together.

(A/N: Just a short one, sorry)