Hold My Hand

Chapter 11

The way I feel today compared to last week is night and day. All the light and frothy feelings from being with Laura have been torn away and replaced with dread. The kind of dread that makes you fidget and sit on the edge of your seat. It's worse than the Ferris Wheel. It's even worse than that time when I thought she hated me. 

I am ready to run out of this room and go wherever Laura is to ask her if everything is okay. Ask her if I screwed up with the kiss and if that's why she hasn't talked to me.

She asked me to prom and I already ruined it for her. I'm not a good friend, am I?

I rub my eyes until they stop stinging while the teacher at the front of the room lectures about the importance of correct comma placement. I wish I was in the right mindset to pay attention. As it is, I can't even focus enough to remember what day it is. I went to bed as the sun came up. Two hours of very ineffective sleep later and I was absently staring at the ceiling wondering how to survive today.

I still don't have the answer.

For the fifth time I stare down at my phone to check my notifications. To my dismay, the screen is empty. Dread twists my intestines into bowline knots. The words on the dry erase board seem miles and miles away at this point. Is it tunnel vision, or am I stuck in a negative bubble of guilt and self-hatred as the world keeps on rotating without me?

Is Laura stuck here with me or has already written me off as the broken freak who kissed her?The shuffling of paper and book bags being zipped up snaps me out of my daze just before the bell rings for lunch. I pick up my empty notebook and roll it up to shove it in my back pocked while I walk out into the hallway.

 At least a hundred students are all crammed together in the tiny hall; each with their own destination in mind and absolutely no care for the people around them. Imagine having a virus outbreak in a high school. The whole student body would be out sick in the matter of a week.

Down the hall, I catch sight of honey-blond hair that looks just like Laura's.

I don't think, I just start walking. It's been too long since we've talked in person and I'm not giving Laura the chance to get away this time. I don't register who is around me; my eyes are trained on her. If I lose sight of her in this crowded hallway, I may not find her again until tomorrow. It's been a while since I have seen Laura within 20 feet of anywhere I usually go.

Feet shuffle around me like an impenetrable wall of flesh, but I push through the crowd to get to her. I get several elbows to the ribs and a few not too nice words in my direction, but I couldn't care less.

I'm drawing nearer, but the closer I get the closer I get to the realization that it isn't Laura. The disappointment washes over me and coats me in a thin layer of resignation.

Quickly, I turn and push my way into a bathroom, making sure I lock myself in a stall before I wind my fingers through my hair in silent frustration and squeeze my eyes tight to fight the tears. Pathetic. Why can't I let go? Why can't I let it be what it is?

Just something that could have been, but wasn't ever meant to be. An offhand possibility. A risk.

 That's all she is, yes. Now calm down. Remember what Will taught you.

I take a deep, calming breath in through my nose

1... 2... 3... 4...

I hold the breath in my lungs, feeling my rib cage expand against my bra's wire.

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7...

I slowly exhale and unwind my fingers from my hair and put them down by my sides.

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8...

My shoulders relax so they aren't as scrunched up and tense. The first time Will lead me through that breathing exercise was after Mother died. Everyone kept coming by with pans of casserole and lasagna. They kept saying how sorry they were that I lost my mother at such a young age, and I couldn't handle it. I nearly punched a hole in the wall next to the front door before Will sat me down.

All I wanted right then was to show everyone who pretended to care about me that I didn't need or want them in my life. All I did was risk breaking my hand.

After a few minutes, I unlock the stall and wash my hands of all the stall germs. The hallway is quiet and empty, but the closer I get to the cafeteria the louder it gets. It's enough to make me want to turn around and walk right back into the bathroom.

Skipping lunch is no big deal if it's to avoid people. Unfortunately this school recently "hired" asshole hall monitors to stand there at all times and ask students where they are headed and why. Turning around abruptly would raise their suspicion, and suspicious hall monitors just so happen to be at higher risk of being slapped across the face today. So, I can't afford it... not if I want to go to college.

I keep walking until I push through the big double doors painted in gaudy purple and yellow school colors. It's crowded, like I suspected, but it takes me no time at all to get my lunch and sit at the table Laura and I usually occupy. She hasn't been here in a while. I sigh audibly and push my mushy peas around my tray. Is it my fault?

I know in some ways it is, but in the grand scheme? She promised me she wouldn't run away again. She broke it. Maybe it's my fault for holding her words so close to me without any shred of doubt. I should know better than that, after everything I had to deal with growing up.

I learned then to never take a promise to heart, but somewhere along the way I got it in my head that Laura was different.

The rest of the day feels like hell, but in reality it is just like every other day. Each class flows one into the next. I get my daily exercise via the five minute walk between rooms. The only thing different is my desperate and unruly urge to get home.

I stare at the blank screen of my phone waiting for something to happen. Even though I am laying in bed and everything around me is silent and still, I get sensation that I am falling deeper and deeper into the abyss.

A/N: Forcing myself to keep writing and be consistent with this story has really helped me learn about how I write. I'm not quite sure when this particular story will end. It could end at chapter 15 (which is already being written) or it could end at chapter 20.  

What I do know is that when I go back and fix this up for Ao3 eventually, I'm going to have a LOT to change. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though. I'm improving. And I can tell because even going back to this chapter to post it, I had several things that I wanted to change that didn't feel right for me anymore.

This isn't the best story, I know. There's not a lot of romance involved, and it's mostly Carmilla being S3 Alt Carm and Laura being S2 Laura, if that makes sense. But it's been a good project for me to get my mind off of all the BS. 

I hope whoever is reading decides to take a chance and create something, regardless of how good or interesting it turns out.