Juniper POV
When I woke up, I was in the ER. I vaguely remember the whole ordeal. My mother insited on having a MRI done to me. And so that I did but nothing came up. I was fine, there was nothing unusual going on in my brain, that's what the doctor said.
The seizures are due to stress, me working too hard and thinking too much. They prescribed some anti seizure meds, which I have to take not one, not two, but THREE times a day. That includes if I feel an episode coming.
They recommended I rest more and try to relax, which is basically easier said than done.
Bunch of bullshit, I thought bitterly as I walked to school. I had went to the ER at 1:00am, got back at 4:00am, slept three hours, just to get up at 7:00am to get ready for school. So I was mayorly, royally pissed off.
I'd barely talked to mom about how I was feeling. She tried to talk to me a couple times while we were at the ER but I just blocked her out or gave her short answers.
Sometimes, I knew it was unfair the way I treated her. I was always mad, pissed off and lashing out for no reason, and sometimes directed my anger towards her when it wasn't her fault. My mother didin't deserve that. I was surprised she didint give me up for adoption or drop me off at an orphanage. It was the least I deserved.
Why did I have to live this life? The man in my dreams made it impossible for me to be happy. Who was he, anyway? There were so many questions but little answers. I knew that the key to solving all of this was in my past, in my repressed memories. But even if I did try to find out, even if I did go out investigating, he would always know.
And he would punish me for it.
I rolled up my sleeves a bit to see the bruises were still there. That was the only thing mom and I didin't mention to the doctors. Mom thought I had done it, obviously. For her there was no other logical explanation. She was wrong, of course, but I coudin't exactly tell her that.
There were son many thing's going on in my head. It felt like a million voices were speaking to me, whispering to me all my problems, it was all too much. I tried to drown them out by humming rather loudly, but all they did was talk louder.
I raked my hands in my hair in frustration. My vision began to cloud, tears formed in my eye's. I looked at my wach, it was 7:25 and although I would probably walk for 10 more minutes to reach school, I decided I might as well be late. I felt like crap, I coudint take the pressure anymore.
I ran to a no exit road which I knew very well. I would come when I needed some me time, away from my home, away from school, away from my life really.
It was an old abandoned two story house, with vines, fungus, endless spider webs and spray paint decorating its cracked walls. The dirty floor was decorated with broken chunks of stone, and dead leaves the wind had brought in. It had no windows, a broken huge oak front door and an equally broken staircase. My father had told me the owners had tried to sell it at a very high price, so high no one was interested in it. The owners gave up and moved away without selling it.
It was old, probably older than my dad would have been if he were still alive.
I threw my schoolbag on the floor when I entered and pressed my back against the wall, sliding down as I tried to get air in my lungs.
Great, I thought, Im having a panic attack.
I gasped and held my chest, my heart beating wildly. I started to sob uncontrollably as I hyperventilated, my head feeling like it was going to explode. Nobody was around, nobody knew this place existed. Only me. It had become my getaway ever since my old man passed away when I was fourteen, an overdose being the cause of his death, suicide if we're being specific.
I continued to cry, feeling more alone and broken than I had ever felt. Just then I heard HIM, his mocking laugh, echoing in my head.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME HUH?" I shouted as I stood up and threw my hands in the air, my eyes frantically searching for his silhouette.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE?" I grabbed a piece of stone from the floor and threw it at the wall. It broke, little bits flying everywhere.
I sank to the floor again, lowered my head and whisperd painfully "What do you want from me?" I continued to cry stupidly, childishly, as if it were to solve my problems.
Then I heard a loud thud, like somoene had fallen. I looked up to see a boy looking down at me, curiosity filling his dark green eyes. He had black hair that fell in his eyes. He was wearing a black shirt with a leather jacket that had a chain styled pocket, some jeans and black sneakers. Judging by his style, his looks and the notebook he carried in his hands, I guessed he was just like me.
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Edited