Chapter 3~Diner

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♡Isabella

As I enter the room, the sound of laughter and chatter hit me like a wave.

Some socializing and talking, others listening. From the corner of my eye, I notice a group of individuals who seem to be just 'there'.

It's as if they're standing on the outskirts of the heart of the conversation, on the outer perimeter of the room.

Seeing that group make me think: That's me. I can relate to that. Just being there, almost like a shadow.

I understand what it's like to listen to others, to acknowledge their need for interaction, but not to offer anything in return.

Just simply being there. Merely a shadow. That's a skill I have subtly developed over time.

It's a feeling that I've carried with me since my youth. My mother, for instance, could never see me for who I am.

I would try to communicate with her, share my thoughts, and feelings, but it always seemed like my words are falling on deaf ears.

Her response would be either silence or a shush, telling me to be quiet.

I would often feel like a distant observer. Completely alone- with no sense of understanding, appreciation, or love.

That sense of isolation is something a person can never forget.

It sticks with you, like a wound that never fully heals.

The pain of feeling invisible lingers, and at times it becomes a constant companion.

The one constant,the one thing never changes.

I spot Amara leaning against the locker, her phone to her ear. I make my way across the corridor trying to avoid glares from the people roaming around.

Once there we embrace each other in a warm hug, despite her still being on a call.

I insert the key into the locker and retrieve my books for the day, “Yea I will love you,bye mom”Amara says.

“Hey my love”, I exclaim. “Hello to you too sweetie” she replies a smile gracing her lips.

Her eyes evert to the stitches on my cheek her expression visibly falls.

“Isabella, what happened, why do you have stiches?” concern lacing her tone.

“Relax, I got a tiny scratch yesterday and needed stitches. I’m okay now.”

Tiny, who am I kidding although I’m trying my best to convince her.

Which I’ll have to do multiple times today.

She doesn’t seem to buy my bullshit. I don't think anyone with more than two brain cells would.

She’s about to say something when the sound of the bell interrupts her. I use that as an advantage “I’ll tell you about it later okay?” I say quickly.

She doesn’t respond, just nods her head once.

She glances to my cheek once more “I’m glad you’re alright Bella.”, relief washes over me.

Everyone thinks that I pursue street racing as a hobby and while I hoped that would be the reason it isn’t.
It’s a second form of income.

And I intend to take on a third in a few weeks.

I particularly chose it because I could race during the night and work at the diner during the day.

Allowing myself time to still complete any homework or assignments and participate in ice skating during the on-season.

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