The Broken & Curious Start [REWRITTEN]

9. Let's Skip

Chapter Nine.
Anastasia's Point of View:

[ PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT ]

"You can't leave for a week," Elle frowns at me.

It's been a week since I decided that I was going to leave town for a week and everyone kept making it out to be some tragic loss. They act as if I was telling them I'm moving out of the country or that I was leaving to my death.

"It's not a big deal Elle," I sigh, tapping my pen against the wooden desk.

"But why?"

"Because I'm over everything. I haven't been able to escape Archer for ten months now, he's constantly around and I can't take it anymore. Now that he thinks we're friends it just worse for me. I just need to breathe." I tell her, not daring to meet her eyes because I know she would have that same concern look on her face.

I enjoyed Archer's company for this past week and that was my problem. I was growing so attached to him and I couldn't have that. He was hers, not mine, and it wasn't fair to her that I was falling deeper in love with her boyfriend. He was so incredibly charming and amazing, making it so hard to resist the urge to dive deeper into the obsession I have with him.

"What are you hoping to get out of leaving?"

"I hope I get some kind of peace, some kind of closure, to feel some kind of freedom. I have been locked in chains for years now and I just need hope that I will be able to set myself free one day. That happiness doesn't repel against me."

"And are you sure that leaving by yourself is going to help that?"

"Staying here with people who just walk on egg shells around me and act as if I have knife to my wrist isn't helping me, so yes." I snap.

"St-"

"Please, drop it." I mumble, standing up from my desk and walk towards our teacher who was typing on his computer.

"May I use the bathroom?"

"Yes," He grumbles without glancing up from his computer screen, handing me the pass beside him before clicking away on the keyboard.

I could feel Elle worried eyes glued to me as I walk out of the class and I try to swallow the same irritating guilt that always pushes through me when I decide to speak up for myself.

I liked roaming the halls when they were empty from all the different kinds of students that walk through them everyday. It shows me that even though the floors are walked on and rattled for hours of each day that even they could feel a sense of calmness— that maybe I can feel the same. I have been pushed around, knocked down, dragged, and stepped on all my life and each day it has lead me to the deep hole I have dug for myself that everyone believes will be my grave one day.

Maybe it will be.

"Anastasia?"

Give me a break.

I turn around to see her walking out of her third period class. She tucks a strand of her long black hair behind her ear with her perfectly manicured fingers— the lights reveal the shine in her hair and the natural blue tint. Her big blue eyes fill with confusion and a bit of aspiration as she looks back at me— and as she flutter her eyes shut it shows the red and gray eyeshadow painted on them perfectly. Her plumped painted red lips curve into a small smile, matching the red on her eyes and the red sundress she wore with a gray blazer and gray heels. The dress showcases her tall, model-like body, and diminishes the little ounce of confidence that I had.