Royals

Chapter 49

(Citing my source) This will make more sense after you've read, but this is the website I used. https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sense-and-sensitivity/201401/3-ways-learn-love-yourself

It was four o'clock in the morning, and I was still awake. My eyes were splotchy and red, and my pupils were dried out from crying.

After our "family meeting", I comforted Anastasia as she cried into my chest. I laid in her bed until she fell asleep, and then I went into my secret attic to cry in solitude.

I was incensed and raging, helplessly watching as the water ran down my cheeks. In my wrath, I threw a bunch of knick-knacks at my wall. I tried to grab things that I knew wouldn't break like books, plastic, candy, and clothes. However, in my fury, I accidentally chucked a vacant alcohol bottle at the wall--which of course only led to me becoming more upset.

I tried picking up the shards of glass, but my hands were shaking. And, with my outstanding luck with glass, I got a huge chunk stuck in my forearm. Pulling it out required the usage of tweezers, which were on the desk in my room.

So, I quickly swept up the remainder of the glass with my fingers, scraping them repeatedly in the progress. The scrapes, although small, felt uncomfortable, as if hundreds of paper cuts were overlapping each other.

Afterwards, I exited the attic and made my way into my room, using the tweezers to painfully remove the hunky sliver from my flesh. I ended up smearing blood on my fingers and forearm, but I wasn't in any mood to wash it off. And, eventually, the burgundy liquid hardened into a stale crimson.

After my rage passed, I was left with my tears and the sniffles. I nearly went through an entire box of tissues, and even had the nerve to turn on depressing music because when you were upset, the best idea was to listen to gloomy music, right?

So I hummed along to the melancholy tunes as the tears dripped down my face. Ultimately, I ended up shutting off the music because it started to make me upset about my love life, and I didn't need to start thinking about that right then.

After a while, I tried to pinpoint the exact reason as to why I was so upset. And after a few moments of contemplation, I came up with a small list: I wouldn't be able to see my dad every day, I'd be forced to spend every day with my mother, and most pertinently, I wouldn't be able to witness those rare moments of happiness shared between my parents.

Those erratic moments would soon become nonexistent.

These were probably very stupid things to cry about, but I rarely cried antything out. I think I used this time as an outlet to let all of my problems, alongside the aforementioned ones, out: the whole Joey situation, my suspension for five days from school, and the fact that I was moving halfway across the world--away from everything I knew--in less than four months.

Around two o'clock in the morning, I received a phone call from Jared Johnson. I tested my voice first, assuring that it was normal and had no signs of my recent bawling session, and then I answered.

Essentially, he was apologizing for speaking to me in school, claiming to have forgotten our guidelines to the friendship. He also blamed himself for my suspension and declared that it would be best if we ended whatever friendship we had begun.

He justified his action of unfriending me by informing me that he didn't particularly enjoy hearing about how I was stomped on in the cafeteria, literally and metaphorically, and he said that I was correct in what I had told him in the morning. So, what I got out of our conversation was that he wasn't interested in being my friend anymore because I was more trouble than I was worth.