TRAPPED

4

Celine

I wake up in the comfiest bed I've ever slept on. Considering that I've been staying on an air mattress that has to be re-pumped every hour for the majority of my life, it isn't hard to exceed those standards.

I sit up and shuffle back to lean on my headboard. I glance around the room, then at myself. I'm still in my leggings and jumper from yesterday, but my shoes have been pulled off and the duvet is tucked into my sides.

I snap my head toward the closed door when I hear the sound of shouting.

"—staying here. She's supposed to for the rest of the week, anyway." My father yells.

I frown. The rest of the week? Its Tuesday.

I climb out of bed, untangling myself from my sheets. I walk over to the door, pulling it open nervously.

The hallway is empty, but now the sound of the argument is louder.

"She doesn't know any of you!"

"And she never will if you don't let her stay here." My father shouts. "Fucking hell, Isabel, if you wanna leave then nobody's stopping you, but my daughter is staying here!"

"No she isn't!" My mother exclaims. As the sound of their conflict becomes louder, I pause by the turn in the hallway, looking around the wall to see both of my parents standing a few feet apart from each other. Even from down the hall, I can feel the tension and anger between them.

"Hey, Celine."

I startle, spinning around to see Nic and Scarlett. The former smiles. "Sorry, darling." My older brother says softly. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?" The sound of his deep voice only partially blocks out the one of our parents arguing.

     I nod.

     "Did you just wake up?" Scarlett asks.

     "Yeah." I reply, suddenly self conscious. I didn't even check what I looked like before leaving my room. I didn't use the extra skincare I brought or brushed my hair or changed out of these crumpled clothes.

     "Do you want breakfast?" Nic asks.

     "No thanks." I say.

     He furrows his eyebrows. "Are you sure?" He questions. "You didn't have any dinner last night. You must be hungry."

     I am. I really am. But I've gotten used to the feeling of hunger, and now it's just a buzz in the back of my mind. Eat. It whispers. Please.

     But I can't. Not yet.

"I'm fine." I say. "I had a snack last night."

"Yeah?" Scarlett says. I nod. "What'd you have?"

I think for a moment. "Cereal."

"Oh." She says. She smiles. "That's good. Why don't I bring you something up anyway, though? Cereal isn't that filling."

"No, it's—"