thalia grace jones
Upon entering the house, the sense of familiarity did little to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. Breathing heavily, I closed the door quietly behind me, hoping not to draw attention. However, before I could even make it to my room, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from the hallway.
"Where have you been?" My mother's worried voice filled the air, her concerned expression mixing with a touch of frustration as she emerged from the living room, followed closely by my father.
I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to explain the chaos I had just escaped. "I-I was out for a walk," I stammered, my voice betraying the turmoil within.
My parents exchanged a knowing look, their concern deepening. "A walk at this hour?" My father's tone held a mixture of sternness and worry. "Yeah, just needed some fresh air," I replied, attempting to mask the unease in my voice.
But the events of the evening weighed heavily on me, and I knew I couldn't keep the truth from them. "There was... an incident," I admitted hesitantly, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I got caught up in something strange... I'm okay, though."
Their expressions shifted to a mix of concern and alarm. "What kind of incident? Are you hurt?" My mother's worry escalated. "I'm fine, really," I reassured them, trying to downplay the intensity of the situation. "It's just... complicated."
My parents exchanged another glance, their concern palpable. "We've been worried sick," my father admitted, his voice a mix of relief at seeing me safe and concern about the unknown circumstances. Guilt tugged at me as I realised the distress my absence had caused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," I apologised sincerely.
The tension in the room lingered as I struggled to find the right words to explain the unexplained. But how could I possibly articulate the inexplicable events that had unfolded? In that moment, all I could do was offer reassurances while wrestling with the weight of the secrets I held.
My parents exchanged worried glances, their concern etched on their faces as they continued to assess my demeanour for any signs of distress. I could feel their worry enveloping me like a suffocating blanket, adding to the weight of the inexplicable events I had just experienced.
"It's late, and you're out here after dark," my mother began, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and sternness. "We were about to call the police. You know how dangerous it can be."
"I know, Mom, I'm sorry," I replied, feeling the guilt gnawing at me. "I didn't mean for this to happen. It was... unexpected." Their expressions softened slightly, the concern shifting to a more empathetic understanding. "Honey, whatever happened, you can tell us," my father urged gently, his tone a mixture of reassurance and paternal concern.
I hesitated, grappling with the internal struggle of wanting to confide in them while grappling with the bizarre and unexplained nature of the events. "I... I can't fully explain it," I started, the words catching in my throat. "There were people, strangers... and something strange happened. But I'm okay, really."
Their brows furrowed in worry, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on their faces. "People? What do you mean, something strange?" my mother inquired, her voice tinged with a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
"It's hard to explain," I admitted, feeling the weight of the unspoken truth heavy on my shoulders. "I promise, I'll tell you everything when I can make sense of it myself. Right now, I just need some rest."
Understanding flickered in their eyes as they exchanged another concerned glance, accepting my plea for some space to process the inexplicable events. "Alright, but promise us you'll tell us everything when you're ready," my father requested, his concern palpable.
"I promise," I affirmed, knowing that this promise would be a heavy burden until I could come to terms with the surreal occurrences and find a way to navigate the enigmatic circumstances that had thrust themselves into my life.
With a heavy heart and a mind still reeling from the night's events, I retreated to my room, seeking solace and a chance to make sense of the bewildering encounters that had turned my ordinary existence into a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear.
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"I was so shocked!" I exclaimed, shutting my locker door with a bit more force than intended. James' eyes widened in concern. "They didn't say anything?!" he exclaimed in disbelief, leaning in closer.
"No, nothing," I replied, the words tumbling out in a rush. "They were like, 'tell us if anything is wrong,' and it was just so weird." My words were a jumble as I tried to convey the unsettling feeling of the conversation with my parents without revealing the full extent of the unsettling events I'd experienced.
James adjusted his bag on his shoulders, his expression a mix of worry and curiosity as I rambled on, skirting around the details of what truly happened the previous day. I felt torn between confiding in him and shielding him from the bizarre and dangerous encounters I had faced.
As I continued to talk, I avoided mentioning the encounter with the group of people, the attack, and the inexplicable abilities that had manifested. The weight of these secrets lingered heavily on my mind, but I wasn't ready to burden him with the intensity and danger of what had occurred. Instead, I sought comfort in sharing the parts of the story that felt less overwhelming
"Hey guys!" Peter chimed in, joining our conversation, accompanied by MJ. I murmured a greeting, rummaging through my bag in search of my phone. MJ tilted her head slightly, peering at me. "What's up?" she inquired, sensing something amiss.
"Not much," I replied nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact as I focused on retrieving my phone. Peter hummed, clearly detecting the evasive tone in my voice. "Anything new happening in your life?" he pressed, his curiosity evident.
James glanced at me, and I cleared my throat, attempting to deflect their attention away from the unsettling events that had consumed my thoughts. "No, not really. Unless you count my aunt having a baby. That's the only new thing," I stated, hoping to steer the conversation away from the complexities of my life.
MJ nodded with interest. "Oh, congratulations! What's the baby's name?" she inquired, leaning casually against the door.
Halting in my tracks, I turned to face her, a hint of frustration colouring my response. "It's a her. And I don't really know. I'm not close with my aunts," I replied with a roll of my eyes, feeling the weight of my words.
James raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh?" he teased, prompting me to reveal more about my family dynamic.
"I have... no aunts," Peter mumbled softly, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness. I met his gaze, a pang of sympathy washing over me. "I'm sorry, Pete. It's okay," I said, offering a reassuring pat on his shoulder. His grateful smile warmed my heart, gratitude evident in his eyes as he looked up at me.
As our conversation drifted into lighter topics, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Peter's smile and the diversion in our discussion provided a momentary respite from the weight of my concealed experiences.
"So, anyone up for grabbing some food after class?" MJ interjected, trying to lift the mood.
"That sounds good," James chimed in, shooting a glance in my direction. "You in?"
I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the idea of spending time with friends as a welcome distraction. "Yeah, sure," I replied, mustering a small smile. "Why not?"
"Wait, where's Ned?" James inquired, prompting simultaneous responses from Peter and MJ, both declaring, "Detention." Their synchronised response resulted in a brief standoff between the two friends, exchanging playful glares. "Stop copying me," MJ warned with a hint of amusement in her voice.
"You stop copying me," Peter retorted with a grin, the teasing banter escalating between them. Chuckling at their antics, James playfully moved between the two, trying to diffuse the mock confrontation. "Come on, guys, save it for later," he jested, trying to mediate their friendly argument.
Feeling the need to break away from the escalating banter, I decided to interject. "Let's go to class," I suggested, slipping my earphones in and turning up the music to drown out the playful bickering. The music blared through my ears, providing a comforting shield from the tension, as I led the way toward our next lesson
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next chapter is actually going to be interesting, i promise. Also um... I'm so insanely obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter. I mean I've always been a fan, shes so fucking talented. BUT LATELY SHES BEEN HITTING DIFFERENTLY!!!