𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

┏━━━ ❀ ━━━┓
𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭
┗━━━ ❀ ━━━┛
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Laying in bed, the waitress's legs are tangled with mine. It's been hard for me to ignore her cold feet sliding up and down my calves.

After her, I didn't even want to imagine resting in bed with anyone else. To better visualize it, I close my eyes. Face-to-face was her favorite.

She loved being able to lean in and give me little kisses whenever she wanted. And sometimes when her silly signs of affection would keep me awake, I'd bury my face in the crook of her neck.

I miss that feeling of comfort and safety. I miss that mixture scent of vanilla and sage. I miss her.

I could lay here and pretend, but nothing is comparable to the real thing. Upon opening my eyes, I pull from Laurie's hold.

I step through the bedroom doors, across the living room floor and to the cabinet beneath the Tv. Lowering to my knees, I reach for the handle and slowly open it. Inside is only a book of blank pages.

I fight against the tightening in my chest as I grab hold of it and bring it to my desk. Slowly wiping the dust off the leather, I pause. With this pause I take a deep breath in, feeling the world around me fill my lungs.

After that night everything changed. We all changed. That's what happens when you're the ones responsible for taking something that doesn't belong to you. When you do something you never thought you were capable of.

I give almost anything to take it back. To reverse the clock and fix my faults, but I know that's not possible.

On the inside of the cover is a simple though meaningful inscription.

To express the hurricane of a thousand thoughts - E

I trace over the same perfectly written cursive lettering before flipping to the first page. For the first time in what feels to be forever I finally know exactly what to write.

A story already written.

A signed confession.

Pen to paper I begin to write.

»»--- ❀ ---««

The night has fallen on Tuesday, October 24th, 2017 at 4:27 pm.

Neither of us have ever cut hair before but I've come to the point where I hate who looks back in the mirror. I need a change, even if it's one as small as this. It was soft and shiny, and well past my shoulders.

And now, running my fingers through the newly shortened hair, I can't help but admit this might have not been the best decision. I look down, eyeing some pieces of my former identity, which remain in the sink.

"Do you think it's too short?" Luce asks, fidgeting with the ends. I tilt my head, watching the way one side rises in my reflection. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"No,-" I linger on my reflection for a mere moment before looking at the girl on my right. "It's perfect," and irreversible.

I place both my hands on her shoulders and print a sloppy kiss across her cheek, a sign of my appreciation. "Thank you."

Lucille has been my dormie since freshman year. Would I consider her a friend, hardly. More like a casual conversation buddy and for some reason I trusted her to cut off 10 inches of my hair.

With one slight glance to the mirror, I walk out of our shared bathroom, reaching for my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. "I gotta be somewhere in like twenty, so I'll catch ya later."