Every day the rest of this week the rain poured and it seems to not want to come to an end. I didn't find this as an omen, like I sometimes usually would, more of a relief than anything.
Constant heavy rain + people not wanting to come outside = the lesser chance I have of seeing Oliver again. Thank god.
His words were carved into my skull and embedded in my brain now. I always find myself crying at the most random times from thinking about it. Once again, he's fucked me up.
I tried my best to shake him from my thoughts to focus more on work, but honestly it was no use. Business today is shit, only two or three people have came in and that's it.
So here I am now, trapped in a dead place with a chatty 16 year old and my thoughts.
"I'm gonna take some aspirin, I've got a headache." I grumbled to Jessica.
"What? Okay." She said absentmindedly. It's weird, she's nearly always talking every second she can, but today she's unusually quiet and seems really anxious.
I gave her a suspicious look but shrugged. It's not my problem. If she wanted to talk about whatever's bothering her, believe me, she would.
I grabbed my bag and took it into the bathroom with me, taking out my aspirin bottle and popping two pills into my mouth.
This will help for now.
When I walked back out of the bathroom, I immediately wanted to turn around and hide in a stall till my shift was done. And to think I had saw the last of him that day.
"Look who it is, lads!" A disgustingly familiar voice boomed as I walked past their table.
"Don't start, Oli." I heard a voice say. I wasn't sure whos it was. It was a voice I've never heard in my life. A females.
I wouldn't look at that table, not even sneak a glance. I didn't have to look to know he was making fun of me. Literally, I didn't have to, he was talking so loudly I swear the shops down the next block could hear him.
He thought he was hilarious, of course. Shouting about how big of a loser I am and how he will never understand what he saw in me when we dated. I'll admit, that fucking cut me deep.
Ever since we laid eyes on each other for the very first time, I have done absolutely nothing wrong to him. I've never once treated him how he treats me. I'll never stand what his deal is with making me miserable.
Then again, he knows what hurts. He knows what tears down my every wall. Being called fat, worthless, pathetic. You name it. It sends me crumbling down.
I've always been too sensitive to words other than actions. Being physically hurt only leaves temporary wounds but words.. words cut deeper than any single one I've made on my skin. They linger in your every thought. Make you rethink things over and over. "Am I really good at drawing?", "What if I fuck this one simple task up?" Endless thoughts.
"Yeah, bet she's thinking about going home and cutting herself!" He snorted while throwing a sickeningly amused glare at me.
That kinda did it for me. "I don't fucking do that anymore." Why did I speak? My whole voice was laced with fear and it was shaking. I just looked stupid.
"Oh is that right? I'm sure you've got to have some room on that littered body." He smirked, taking a look at my scar covered arms.
I can't hide them but I always try my best to. I'm vulnerable for remarks like this when I wear this uniform and I hate it.
I tried my best to ignore his last comment, looking back down at the counter. I want my shift to be over already, god damn it.
"Why is she covered in such ugly things?" I heard the female speak up. She sounded just as Oli did. Malicious, rude.. What a perfect match.
