Thea would say she "Isn't like other girls," if the phrase wasn't so disgustingly trendy. With a personality more salty than the Dead Sea itself, the attractive allure of a cactus, a peculiar hatred for feminist self-victimhood, and occasionally acc...
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It happened again.
I'm not sure why, or how, but it did.
I am beginning to think I'm going insane.
I am a rational person losing their rationality. My sanity is literally being scratched from my psyche by the claws of imaginary wolves I only see in my dreams.
First the night of the storm, and now in my dreams? My brain is working on overdrive to supply a reasonable explanation for all of this, but I've been coming up empty.
For one, the first hallucination, as I like to call them, I was awake for, so it couldn't have been just a dream. Second, I don't have dreams, like, at all. So, to go from not dreaming at all, to having vivid hallucinations that I can even feel the pain from, is definitely out of the ordinary.
I turn on the radio in my truck, as well as the heat, rubbing my fingers furiously on my jeans to form any kind of heat in my frozen fingertips.
My weekend went by fairly quickly, filled with homework, grocery shopping, and the last bit of unpacking. Ultimately very boring.
The only instances where I'm not obsessing about my strange hallucinations, my thoughts drift to my time at Moonrise. I keep replaying the events over and over in my mind. The strange aura of the place, the way they lived, how I was attacked... I find myself unable to understand what exactly it was that bothered me.
It wasn't that they lived secluded, how tight knit they were, not even the strange maps I had seen. Something about that place wasn't natural, yet I can't figure out what it is.
And I hate it.
I always know the answer to everything, and if I don't, I do the research it takes to find the answer. Yet, in this scenario, I don't have an answer, and there aren't any ways to find one.
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about my new 'friends' either. I don't think I want to hang out with them anymore, not that I really wanted to do so to begin with. Things will probably be awkward, now that I've been attacked at their house, and I really don't think I can handle constant tension like that. I can already see the apologetic look on Sorrell's face in my mind's eye.
A sigh blows out my slightly parted lips as the school comes into veiw. I really don't have time for other people's half-hearted apologies, nor do I care. Maybe I could just ignore them? Yes, that should work. If I don't talk to them, they won't talk to me.
After parking the truck, I pocket my keys and heft my backpack over my shoulder. My Converse splash in the little puddles in the parking lot as I make my way to the front doors. I internally groan at the coming onslaught of disgusting people who are about to ruin my day with their boisterous presence.
