[sorry, hanni is a complete douche here.]
꧁ Third Pov ꧂
Danielle stumbled into her room, flinging off her shoes and tossing her cardigan aside without a care. All she knew was that she was ready to collapse into the comfort of her bed.
Her morning had been unbearably long, and she yearned to sleep away the pain—the one thing she felt she excelled at.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered, pounding her fist into the mattress as tears dampened her pillow.
She regretted her words to Hanni earlier. It was another outburst, and she had let it dictate her emotions.
Hanni must have been deeply hurt. Danielle's abrupt departure, without a thought for Hanni's feelings, must have left her bewildered.
It was never Danielle's intention for it to unfold as it did.
At this moment, it seemed as if the entire world was against her, and she retreated into her shell, worrying over whether she should ever face Hanni again.
She probably shouldn't, yet she has to. Professor Kim wouldn't allow her to skip his classes regularly without a valid reason.
After allowing herself to experience her emotions for a few moments, Danielle rose and approached her work desk. She opened a drawer and retrieved a small notebook.
With a pencil she picked up from nearby, she seated herself and began to write the date and a journal entry.
Journal #?
2-25-23
I no longer recognize who I am. I've lost touch with who I once was and who I am now.
The reasons for my panic are unclear to me. Understanding what it means to be 'me' has disappeared.
I find myself longing for the familiarity of the past.
I miss myself.
Discarding the pencil, it landed with a solid thump against the notebook, leaving Danielle submerged in her thoughts while the sound of a ticking clock pervaded the room.
"What a day," she sighed deeply, her fingers weaving through her hair.
Danielle knew she should be doing her homework, which was her issue with school.
She didn't really do anything unless she wanted to, and more often than not, she found herself lacking any desire to do much at all.
That is, unless she were to be coaxed out of bed by one of her closest friends. But Danielle was known for her stubbornness.
"Danielle," a soft voice pierces through her daze. She startles in her seat, clutching her chest over her pounding heart.
"Explain what you meant before. Tell me that I'm doing a good job as a friend, because I'm really trying to be," Hanni insists, her tone grave. Danielle is immobilized.
"Hanni, you only want me to tell you what you want to hear," she replies.
"I need answers, Danielle. Do you expect me to just leave you alone after what you said? You hurt me! Friends don't hurt each other, not the way you do," Hanni articulates, her voice laced with tears.
Danielle feels a constricting sensation in her throat, leaving her gasping for air. "Hanni, I—"
The older woman's gaze bores into Danielle, "Did you really believe I was going to miraculously recover overnight? I'll never be okay because I don't want help!"
