Life is a series of unwanted callus decisions made in the heat of the moment, which is why Everly Wood will never understand the world.
Naturally eccentric and obsessive, no matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to fit in. But that's the lea...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."
Franklin Roosevelt
My eyes flickered open, but nothing focused. My fingers scraped against the dirt, crumpling the leaves. All I could seem to make out in the dark night sky were trees, so many trees. Twenty-five, no thirty, I counted. I gingerly raised my hand, just missing my face due to the disorientation, and felt a warm gooey liquid coating my fingers. A blur of crimson catches my vision and I looked up again, resuming my count of the trees. Thirty-six, forty-four.
What happened? What happened? What happened?
**
"Get me another," he slurred, holding up his cup that had previously been filled with whiskey.
He was drunk. After my mom died it seemed to become his daily pass time. By the age of twelve, I had the signs down to a science. He would pace the room, his mind as restless as the sea. When his eyes were glossed over, making it harder to notice the way his pupils were barely there, that's when I knew he'd had too much. Because then came the irritability and his snake-like tongue that felt like knives being plunged into my back.
I nodded, I didn't dare tell him what I was really thinking. I think you've had enough.
No, I knew what would happen. The night would end with him passed out on the couch and me, curled up in the corner with my hands pressed firmly over my ears because it was all just too much to handle.
So instead, I poured the syrupy liquid over the ice cubes. The large glass felt uncomfortable in my petit hands. I tried to force my hands to stop shaking.
Don't drop it.
My breath hitched with every move I made. I handed him the glass and his fingers brushed against mine. I felt the glass slipping through my sweaty palms and it crashed against the floor, shattering. The noise startled me and I jumped, taking a few steps back.
"No..." I whispered, unshed tears pooling in my eyes.
My mind slowed down the catastrophe, flashing to the aftermath of my previous screw-ups. The familiar stinging feeling on my cheeks. The ache of my bones. My body shook.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, my thoughts swirling together on a loop.
"Could you be any more god damn clumsy?" he said through his clenched jaw and muttered under his breath. "Stupid."
"I-I'm sorr-" He lifted himself up off the couch, towering over me.
I bit my lip, the metallic taste of blood hitting my taste buds. It was disgusting but sometimes necessary. If I hadn't, I would have screamed. It took every ounce of willpower inside of me to stand still and not run and hide underneath my covers.
