To The Moon And Back | ON HOLD

10 | Jishui

E L L I E

I've told no one the real reason behind my dislike for novels. The most they are aware of is, at first sight, expect a demon-like shriek from my very human mouth. I'm not sure if I should categorize this as a phobia. Everyone is deathly afraid of something, whether that be spiders, the sound of a balloon popping, confined spaces, heights and much more.

No one shames people whose skin crawls at the sight of holes or turns the earth upside down when the cutest creature crawls onto their shoes, so I shouldn't be shamed for shivering at the sight of a hard-covered book. No, it's not actually a phobia, but I should say it's on that spectrum.

Until the age of seven, Alec and I shared a room. My brother is a conceited brat who thinks he's all that because a few girls are willing to drop their skirts at the mere sight of him and boys fear his quote and quote 'manly aura'–his words, not mine. However, that's no news flash to anyone who knows him.

Not only was he narcissistic, but he was also very much a sociopath. No, he was never diagnosed as one, but he might as well have been considering what he did to scar my little adolescent heart. At night, after mom was done tucking us to bed Alec had other plans.

He would get 'scary' books from the library. Since the librarian didn't permit books past our age group I could hardly call it a horror novel. Just something that would scare the crap out of a five to seven-year-old. Anyways, at night whenever my parents left the room they would turn off the light.

Alec would climb into my bed with a new scary book every night, turn off the lamps and crawl under the covers in pitch black and read it to me. He would do this up until we had separate rooms. I guess, ever since then I've had a burning hatred for books seeing as they were Alec's weapon of choice.

I love my brother to death, but sometimes I wished I could strangle him to death. "Are you going to Taylor's sleepover tonight?" Lizzie asked. I forced to tear my gaze away from her bookshelf and finally pulled myself out of my reverie, "no."

Taylor was Lizzie's friend, not mine. "She always invites you and you never come, do you know how bad that makes you look?" I could care less. Being in Taylor's presence brings nothing but bad luck. Four times at her party, I managed to embarrass myself and Lizzie expects me to go back to that house?

Nope, I'm not a very superstitious person but I have a feeling there's some bad juju in that house. "You're going, it's probably the last sleepover we'll have before going to College." Again, I could care less. I'm an antisocial person, I don't like interacting with people, especially if there's no benefit to said interaction in the end.

Making new friends is a different story, but I've known all Lizzie's friends since elementary school, why should I make an effort to befriend them months before we're all shipped off to higher education? I knew debating with Lizzie on this would be useless.

Not only am I compelled to tell her everything knowing that gossip is her middle name, but I'm also unable to resist her demands and pleas, and that's the sole reason why I always find myself at a social gathering when I'd much rather be curled underneath my duvet.

But. . .my life could end anytime now.

I need to stop fearing the thought of being even the slightest spontaneous. Lighten up, Ellie, before you regret it. "Fine, I'll go to the stupid sleepover. But I swear to god if we have a pillow fight and start painting each other's nails, I'm booking it." Her legs kicked off the bed as she sprung into the air excitedly, gleefulness evident on her face.