Before I Forget

No Rest For the Wicked

What Sky had told her Dad about not making any friends, hadn't been exactly true. There was Luke.

Sky had the last room on one of the long hallways where the residents' rooms were, Luke had the one next to her. The first night when Sky had been crying her eyes out in her bed, soaking the pillowcase with her tears, Luke had knocked on the door and respectfully told her the walls were paper thin and that he'd greatly appreciate it if Sky shut the fuck up.

She had - not so respectfully - told him to sod off by throwing a sneaker at him - one he had only barely managed to dodge.

The next morning Luke had been back at her door, his shocking neon yellow hair in a high ponytail, holding a cup of tea and a plate with some pancakes in his hands, asking if she wanted to talk. They hadn't really stopped talking since.

Luke wasn't what you would call handsome, but there was something hauntingly beautiful about him. He was so thin that he seemed almost translucent, his paper- white skin was stretched tight over the delicate structure of his bones. He had cheekbones so sharp that they could have cut glass, a face full of piercings, and arms full of self-harm scars and needle marks. He was seventeen, and this was his 5th time here.

"Good morning, sunshine," Luke greeted her with a grin when she met him at the door of the cafeteria the day after Dad had brought the letters.

Sky mumbled a response and stifled a yawn. She had barely gotten any sleep last night - the letters had kept her awake until past midnight, and after that she had been haunted by nightmares, waking every half an hour, her heart in her throat, her body tense and trembling, tangled in sweaty sheets. Hawk's letter still lay unopened on her desk, even if she had read all the other ones multiple times by now, and even at this moment, she could feel its weight like an iron hook in her heart.

She still hadn't decided if she would read it or not. The fact that just the unopened envelope was enough to ruin all the progress she had made this past week, sure spoke against it, but—

What if it's for real this time? What if he still loves me? What if there's a way we could be together again?

But those thoughts were followed by doubt and anger, and piercing pain that took her breath away.

I'm so fucking stupid. I can't trust anything he says, so why even read the damn thing?

"We've got group together in an hour," Luke said as they walked into the cafeteria, and Sky snapped out of her thoughts. "What do you have after? Art?"

Art, oh joy. She was going to paint a canvas filled with blood - again. Brushing her hair behind her ear, she picked up a tray, even if she wasn't hungry at all.

"Yeah. You?"

"Horses."

Sky didn't reply, but Luke didn't seem discouraged by her silence. He proceeded to pile fresh fruit and pancakes onto his plate, then took a huge cup of hot water, glancing at Sky who still stood staring at the food, unable to decide if she wanted anything. She was nauseous, the lack of sleep felt like someone was hitting her head with a hammer. It was like suffering from the withdrawals again, and Sky feared she might puke into the fruit bowl.

Wouldn't be the first time that happened here, she suspected. She had seen people puking in all kinds of places during this past week and a half.

"Not hungry?" Luke asked with a quizzical look.

Sky shook her head.

"Rough night? Take a cup of hot water, at least, and a glass of milk," he said, picking up his tray. "I've got a surprise for you."