CHAPTER-21

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The next few days passed in agony for all four roommates. Deanna, however, was taking everything worse than the three other girls. She'd just opened up and allowed herself to get close to Carly, only for the smaller girl to be torn away from her. The impending thought that Carly may end up in jail and never be able to come back home terrified Deanna.

In all her years on earth, Deanna had never suffered a loss as great as this one. Sure, she'd lost her great aunt when she was 7 years old, but she didn't remember anything about the woman. Her mother had scolded her for picking flowers at the funeral instead of mourning along with her family, but Deanna simply couldn't bring herself to feel sad over the loss of someone she barley knew.

Now Carly was another story. Deanna cared immensely about the younger girl. Granted, she used to hate her. But she found it impossible now, after learning about her. Deanna found it impossible to hate anyone once she figured out enough about them. Once she learned someone's true motives, it made it easier for her to sympathize with them.

She'd spent the rest of the weekend in bed. Her roommates would come into her room and check on her occasionally, but after she lashed out at them multiple times, they decided it was best to give Deanna her space.

It was only at 11 PM on Sunday that Deanna realized she had classes the next day. Which meant she was supposed to turn in another one of her independent art projects. After considering just skipping class, Deanna was eventually able to pry herself out of bed.

She flicked on the lights in her bedroom and searched her backpack for her materials. Her eyes scanned over the colors of paint she had to choose from, grimacing at all the bright vivid colors she'd brought home. Eventually, she shoved all but two tubes of paint back into her bag.

Using the black and white paints, she mixed a variety of grays in her palette. Gray, Because without Carly, everything seemed to lose its color. Bright colors only reminded her of what she could possibly lose.

She began to search in her closet for a canvas, swearing that she had one stashed away somewhere. Her heart stopped when she found what she had been looking for. It looked a bit different than she'd expected, though.

Instead of finding a plain white canvas, Deanna found a plain white canvas - covered in Carly's childish scribbles. She must have done this the morning she had colored in her sketchbook, as well.

Feeling tears welling in her eyes, Deanna slammed the painting down on her easel and began to blindly slather paint over the colorful drawings, wanting to get them out of her sight as quick as possible.

A few minutes and a fit of tears later, Deanna looked down at her palette only to realize she'd used up all of her paint. Glancing back up at the canvas, she bit her lip when she realized just how thickly she'd layered on the colors. Paint was dripping down the canvas, down the easel, and leaving small specks on the floor.

Growing increasingly frustrated with herself, Deanna threw her paintbrush down and groaned. She trudged back over to her bed and crawled under the covers, curling up in the same spot where she'd spent the entire weekend.

There was a knock at the door a few moments later. When Deanna didn't acknowledge it, Eya let herself into the room. She raised an eyebrow at the painting before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

Deanna sighed, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "Why can't we just go... I don't know, fucking steal her back and leave the country?"

"Cause then we'd all end up in jail, dumbass," Eya laughed softly. "It's getting late..."

"I know," Deanna glanced at the clock. "I have class tomorrow."

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