"HOW NICE OF YOU TO JOIN ME, NATALIA.."
"IT'S ACTUALLY NATASHA, BUT, CLOSE ENOUGH.."
"WHATEVER DUMBASS.."
---
loss
noun
plural noun: losses
1. the fact or process of losing something or someone.
"Losing someone you love, it doesn't ever go a...
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"CHANGED FOR THE BETTER..."
---¤☆¤---
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could she be so stupid? Smashing the pillow into her face, she lets out a small scream into the fluffiness, her voice muffled but still notable. How⎯How could she be so fucking stupid? Pulling the pillow away from her face, she turns to look at Dr Gibson, the older woman not looking up from her magazine. She just simply flips to the next page, her eyes scanning the page. A hint of an amusement smile on her lips.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the pillow against her face, letting out another long gut-deep scream into the pillow. Stupid. Stupid. Bashing the pillow into her face again and again, she fails around on the couch, trying to sink into the cushions. Gods, Travis probably hated her guts. She'd never be able to return to Camp because of this. Gods! Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?!
"I fucked up! I⎯Ahh! Why did I say that?!" Natasha groans, cringing at the memory.
"Poncho's are back in.." Dr Gibson hums, "Are you done? Or do you want to stomp around for a few more minutes?"
"A few more minutes." Natasha grumbles.
"Okay, then. Have at it." Dr Gibson nods, "Just don't hurt yourself."
Turning her eyes back onto the magazine, Natasha throws the pillow onto the floor, falling back onto the couch in a huff. Staring up at the ceiling, she lets out a long sigh, her mind replaying their fight over and over again. Tears building up in her eyes, her bottom lip trembled slightly. He wasn't going to want to see her again. Fuck.
Why was she like this? Why did she have to destroy everything? It wasn't like she did it on purpose. It just happened. Over and over again. Letting out a sharp breath through her teeth, she blinks away the tears, fiddling with her fingers. Why? Why? Why was she like this?
"I was such a dick to him! And⎯And the look on his face it just proved it!" Natasha rants, "Why am I like this? Why do I keep ruining everything? I⎯There's gotta be a reason for it."
"You don't ruin everything, Natasha." Dr Gibson argues, making her scoff.
"Oh yeah? I fuck up my parents relationship, fourteen years and still no contact. I fuck up my friendship with Walter, though it wasn't entirely my fault." Natasha points out, "Then, I fuck up my friendship with Travis, by being a dick. I ruined everything."
"That's a lot of bold accusations, Natasha." Dr Gibson argues, dropping her magazine.
Scoffing loudly at Dr Gibson's comment, she couldn't believe Dr Gibson was seriously going to argue with her about this. Every relationship⎯every single one she's had or has had is ruined by her hand. She was the one to poison them. How could Dr Gibson not see that? Turning away from Dr Gibson, she curls up into a ball, her eyes now on the peeling fabric of the office couch.
