His Angel

4.

ANGELINA

I held my face in both hands, groaning. I totally scared him off, didn't I? Why they hell did she have to come out? I just couldn't control it, funnily enough. I hated this disgusting monster in me, and of all people, I did not need her emerging from the black pits of my heart onto Jensen.

I could've had a fresh start with him. Without the influence of all those girls in high school, or my family giving their input.

I loved him calling me Angel, it made me feel like I actually had hope to return to that girl again.

But I hated those words.

'We need to learn to control ourselves.'

He had no idea what that meant to me, and I blew up on him anyway.

How would he know that control used to mean everything to me? My appearance, my attitude, the way I spoke to people, the way my name passed from their lips. Nothing about who I used to be was natural, or even really me.

I curated every conversation, every look, every lift of a fucking finger. Until it came to the point where I couldn't breathe without listening to what I sounded like in the silence. It was uncontrollable, the urge to control everything.

I became someone else, and I had to step on others and become a reflection of the people that turned me into her to succeed.

I realized after that day in eighth grade that these people would never respect me, so I made them fear me.

And one day, I started to like the fear. And that's when I knew it was over. She had to be over.

I turned over in bed, the memories flashing back. Guilt and disgust washed over me, coating my skin like... like mud.

I closed my eyes, pushing the memory of that day away. And it worked, but instead of my mind going to that day, it slipped into what I used to be.

'A nightmare.'

***

Two Years Ago

I could feel the hot tears leaking out of my eyes, but every other part of me was numb. I sat in the stall, my face cold and dead, unmoving for the tears. I could let them run free, but something in me just couldn't let myself show it.

Not a frown, a grimace, or a furrowed brow. Not a single expression but neutrality crossed my face. I held my jaw still as stone, not letting a single muscle move out of place. She didn't deserve that from me. Sure, she made me cry, but that was just a physical reaction. The only thing out of my control. Otherwise, I might as well have been reading the newspaper.

She deserves nothing. Not even your tears, you fucking weakling. You can stop those. Do it. NOW.

I wiped my cheeks, took a breath, and exited the stall. I pressed some cold water under my eyes, the feeling already comforting me. I looked in the mirror and fixed my makeup, pushing down all the shit and dirt I could feel stirring within me.

'You are so brave for wearing that lip colour to school. It makes most people look like a circus clown in my opinion, but hey, if that's your jam then you do you.'

Nicole always knew how to play on my insecurities, and she did it with a smile. We'd just been sitting there at lunch, talking about our plans this weekend. Where the fuck did that comment come from? All she loves to do is tear me down and make it seem like she's just my friend looking out for me.