Chapter Seven

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It's been a month. Life has been well not great but at least normal. Kookie is no longer pushing me away, we're super close now. One thing that still bothers me is how he has a new bruise every single day. He had learnt to keep it together but I see pain every time our eyes lock. It's like he's trying to tell me things but does not know where to start. I hate how he wants to be strong all the time, I want him to let me see his pain. I don't mind.

It's a bright Saturday morning, I open my eyes to the blinding light and slightly groan at the intrusive feeling in my eyes. I roll in my bed lazily and reach for my phone. I send the boy next door a good morning text and get up. I make my bed then jump into the shower. I put on baggy cargo pants and a baggy t-shirt with a pair of Spongebob socks that I got from Dad on my 15th birthday. I hop down the stairs and my parents are all dressed up, they always are but today seems a little casual.

"You guys going somewhere?" I ask them.
"Good morning to you too," daddy sighs weakly placing his newspaper on the table.
I giggle like the princess he always says I am, "Sorry, good morning mom and dad," I say.
"Morning baby," mom answers placing three plates on the table and going back to attend to the sizzling bacon in the frying pan. I'm slowly getting tired of bacon. It's mom's favourite so guess what that means.
"You are going somewhere?" I ask again.
"Frank, I thought you told her," mom says.
"I did, Kelly I told you last week that your mother and I will be going for a three day couples' retreat in Hawaii," daddy explains. Now that he's saying it, I remember him telling me but i wasn't paying much attention.
"Oh yeah, I remember. You guys are going now?"
"Yeah, after breakfast, unless you think we shouldn't," daddy says.
"No, no, no. You guys should go. You've been planning this for weeks now," I argue.
"But Mrs. Gibson is gone now," my mom says making me laugh.
"I don't need a babysitter mom, I'm almost eighteen. I'll honestly be fine," I assure them.

After breakfast, I help my parents load their bags into the car. They hug me tightly kissing my cheeks before driving off. I should be okay, my Dad left me his other business credit card in case i need something that the balance on mine can't afford. I go back inside, plug my phone on the charger and plop on the couch. I decide to binge watch Prison Break. Too lazy to go find snacks in the kitchen, I just sit there watching the show lying in an uncomfortable position that is most likely going to make my neck hurt later.

Finally having had enough of the hunger, I make my way to the kitchen. I take a few snacks from the fridge and go to sit back down. The rest of the day is pretty much the same, snacks, movie, snacks and more snacks. I love the life I'm living, for once in my life, I'm not thinking about school at all. Thanks to the boy next door. Speaking of which, he never replied my text which is odd. Maybe I should call him. I go take my phone from the charger and soon as I press the home button, my eyes are met by multiple alerts. 6 messages and 17 missed calls from Kookie♡. Dang, why did i have to put my phone on silent. The panic starts attacking me almost instantly. He is in trouble. He can't have called all those times if he was okay.

I run out my house in only my socks and across the street. I knock a couple of times and no one answers. I turn the door knob hesitantly and to my luck, its it's not locked. I close the door behind me and run up the flight of stairs. I don't know which door is the one to his bedroom so I opt for trial and error, opening every damn door till I find him. I'm standing in front of the last door and I'm a nervous wreck. It's my last hope. I heave up a deep sigh then open the door. Stepping in, I don't see him but something is off. This particular room is just basic chaos. I'm guessing it's his. Night lamps broken, tiny shards of class scattered everywhere. His huge Justin Bieber wallpaper has been torn in half. His closet doors are wide open. His bed is a mess, covers lying everywhere. I move carefully forward and notice blood on the sheets. My eyes follow the trail of blood that's leading to a door that can only be a bathroom. Of course, he would be in there. I carefully step over the glass making sure not to get my feet cut. I knock softly on the bathroom door.

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