Forgiven (JD x Veronica)

Chapter 7

"What?" It was more of a statement than a question; Heather had heard her perfectly, loud and clear, she just wanted to make sure Heather was being genuine.

"Can I come over to your house?"

Heather blinked.

"Like, right now?"

"Yes."

"Uhm, give me a second," Heather paused, covering the receiver with her hand to assure any noise wouldn't get through. Looking around her room, Heather was stunned by how disgusting it was. There were clothes piled up in almost every corner of the room. Everything that had a surface in her room was either covered with papers or dirty dishes. Her carpet had five different stains all from different beverages. Wincing internally, Heather glanced at her shut bathroom door. She shivered. She didn't want to even think about how revolting it was in there.

"No, y-" Heather choked on her words. Internally, she cursed herself for being this nervous. "No."

"Can you come here then?"

"Like, to your house?"

"Where else?" Heather's heart winced. Sarcasm. When on Earth did Heather turn sarcastic?

"Okay, I'll be over in a bit." Heather slammed the phone down on the receiver

Heather stood up quickly, and almost fell back down. Her vision blurred and her head swelled. Stumbling, she leaned against the wall for support and waited for her dizziness to pass. Once it did, Heather arched her back and cracked her neck. To say she wasn't excited would be a lie; she was finally going to atone for the things she had done.

Granted, this excitement came with anxiety, anxieties large enough to consume all of the excitement and leave Heather nothing but a nervous mess. Heather tried to quell these anxieties, after all, Heather was a very forgiving person, right?

She hoped.

. . .

To say that Veronica felt better after somewhat amending things with JD would be a lie, but a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was quite difficult, if close to impossible, to describe exactly how she felt. Granted, Veronica never had an easy time expressing her emotions healthily. Always, always, always bottling things up and suppressing her anger, always suppressing her beliefs and doubts in hopes of fitting in, of conforming.

It always ended up the same. It would blow up in her face. Something would set her off and she would get irrationally angry, yelling at friends, hurling insults at her family, and taking the blame out on herself. And then, once the rage faded away, her mind realizing how awful it was to be angry, would she realize the damage she did cause. The friendships she had nearly severed and the family she had shoved away. The mental wounds she had reopened and the guilt she loathed experiencing would haunt her, plague her mind, screaming and screeching that she was a horrible person.

Blowing out a cloud of smoke and letting it surround her, filling her lungs with more carcinogens than it already had, she felt some sort of calm fill her. Sure, JD was still a murderer and sure , Veronica was still very traumatized by his actions, but it felt relieving to let her anger go, even if it was just momentarily. To smack the demon that was nibbling off of her rage away. Despite feeling temporary euphoria from the hope of making a decision that could cause change, in the back of her mind, she knew her rage would return.

Out of frustration and the impending doom over everything in her life falling apart, Veronica let out a scream and jabbed the lit cigarette to the back of her left hand. Her screams of anger almost instantly turned into screams of pain. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and her hand pulsed with a fiery intensity. Skin seared and muscle twitched. Veronica continued to press the cigarette deeper and deeper into her skin, screaming with every millimeter it went deeper.