Chapter Nineteen

770K 9.7K 2.4K
                                    





<><><><><><><>

Dedication: QueenOfFreaks for the awesome cover on the side. Thanks, it's great. :)

<><><><><><><>

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I'm not sure whether it was due to my non-stop, pathetic sobbing or whether the concept of time just didn't matter to me anymore.  It was as though my brain was stuck on replay. Those words, that affected me in more ways than one, going over and over in my brain, making the urge to be sick grow stronger.

"It's your grandmother. She passed away this morning."

Ugh.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I lent my head back. My eyes were wet with tears, my nose running. I hated the fact she was gone and I hated even more that it was making me cry. I wasn't that type of person. It was just... how many more people were there left to lose? I seriously had no one anymore.

I absent-mindedly grasped at the bottle of vodka beside me. It was mixed in with orange juice. Or should I say, had pinches of orange juice. I sculled it back, as if it was water, ignoring the flare of pain that ignited my throat. My whole body was crumpled against the wall of my dorm room, it supporting most of my weight. My arms were limp as they fell by my side. She had been my last hope. My last hope of getting away from this hell hole.

Guess that wouldn't be happening now.

I'm uncertain of how long I had been there, sprawled uncomfortably on the ground, but it felt like an eon with the way my body was cramping. I'm sure the school day had ended by now, but there was still no sign of Imogen. She was probably with Chase, which benefited me right now. I do not feel like explaining what has happened to anyone. Especially not her. She will probe into my background, question my past my life.

I refuse to let her give me sympathy. She doesn't care.

No one does.

There was a soft knock at the door. I didn't even blink. I blatantly ignored the fact and resumed my rigid activity of laying immobile. The knock sounded again, becoming slightly persistent.

"Go away." I groaned, my voice coming out raspy.

As if an invitation, the door swung open, allowing Colin to enter. I groaned dramatically, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, with what almost was like actual concern. Hah. What a joke. I barked out a humourless laugh, sounding dry to my own ears. My cheeks were tear-stained, causing my long, brunette hair to stick to them annoyingly.

"Yeah, just peachy."

He gently shut the door and walked over to me cautiously, as if I was a ticking time bomb, moments away from exploding. Which was a possibility. Upon reaching me, he crouched down low, so that we were eye level.

"Are you drunk?"

"Are you ugly?"

"What?"

"Exactly. Both stupid questions." I said bluntly.

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "So you just indirectly told me I was attractive. Thank you."

Ignoring him, I clambered to my feet, swaying. My vision began swimming and I staggered backwards, my back hitting the wall roughly. Colin's eyes widened as he reached out, in attempt to steady me.

I wrenched my arm from his grip, as if being poisoned. "Don't touch me."

He stared at me in surprise. He didn't look hurt, just a little shocked. Slowly, I maneuvered myself away from him. I pulled down Imogen's dressing gown, from the rack and pulled out her belt. I felt Colin's gaze on me as I waddled over to the window. I tied the belt around the curtain holder, before securing it around my neck.

Downright DelinquentsWhere stories live. Discover now