~fourtysix~

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Fourty-six
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Day 2

~ Vee's Pov ~

So I concluded that my parents had decided to lock me upstairs for the rest of the night...Or more? Possibly for the rest of eternity? The worst part was that I had started to doubt myself again,

Its not their fault their daughter walked out after being 'grounded.'

They must be so disappointed.

Why am I thinking about this at 3:19 in the morning?

I was tired, but it felt wrong to actually sleep. It felt betraying in some weird way. I should've slept, but I merely didn't think about it enough to actually get to it. So what was I doing all these hours? Thinking?

I hate being left alone with my thoughts.

I'm a listener. I listen to people. Listening to my own thoughts was an entire new subject, because I'm still listening, but I'm listening to myself. So am I the one talking? Or 'thinking' in this case? I can't be the conversationalist and thinker at the same time.

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Apparently its 8:42 am now.

The door might be unlocked. Or it could be locked forever. Who knows? I get up and out of my room to check anyway, and to my avail, it does open.

Note: door to the downstairs is unlocked at 8:42 or before

I think about going downstairs for a long time. Part of me wants to get answers from my parents. But the other part of me is extremely and overwhelmingly anxious for what's to happen if I do seek answers.

"good morning" Dad says as I walk into the kitchen very cautiously, I don't say anything in return.

Everything seems, 'normal'. As if nothing happened yesterday.

Did nothing happen yesterday?

"How are you?" Mom asks, and I shrug.

Dad sighs before continuing, "you do understand this is just so you don't go down a route of depression and anxiety, right?"

So it wasn't a dream.

I nod, not giving them much interaction.

"So on nights we're gonna keep you upstairs" Dad explains, "because of yesterday, we cant trust you to even have doors to use"

I stay silent, nulling over there words.

"Luvena will you go get the mail for me?" Mom asks in a polite tone, and I silently nod.

So you don't trust me enough to leave the upstairs during the night but trust me enough to leave the house alone to get the mail.

The chill of the morning is refreshing, and the deep breath I take almost brings me to tears for no reason at all. Why am I about to cry over fresh air.

Gosh I'm a mess.

As I walk towards the mailbox, I couldn't help but glance at Ollie's house. It's hard to get a good look at it from the front of my mine, but I can see barely edges of the house. Even a couple windows are in my view.

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