"I hate him. He's rude, annoying, stupidly hot, and he makes me feel things I shouldn't feel. I hate it so much." -Mia
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"I hate her. She's an annoying little fine ass know it all. She's always in my head, I can't think properly around her, or...
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It's been a few days. And by a few days I mean a week.
What's happened in that said week? Well, nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I've went to school, went home, and slept.
I'll eat, go to my room, try to fight wanting to go to the scale that I have hidden in my bathroom, end up losing the fight, going to the scale, and then working out for long periods of time all because of how the numbers on the scale look.
After that I'll go to sleep and have nightmares.
It's everything that happened before when I was 15. The nightmares, the looking at the scale and having that feeling of needing to go workout everyday to get those damn numbers down. Everything. It's back. But I'm fine.
I have everything under control. I can stop. I'm under control, if I wanted to I could make it stop. I just want to make the numbers on that scale go down just a little bit. That's all. Just a few pounds, like five. Five pounds and then I'm done. Then I'll be done.
Every. Thing. Is. Fine.
A few days ago, we moved back into the house. It was cleaned, everything that was blooded, broke, or stolen, was all replaced. The house was searched to make sure it was safe. You wouldn't know that anything happened at all.
I haven't really been talking to anyone. Alè's been trying to spend time with Leo. She feels very guilty for everything and no matter how much we tell her not too she still puts so much on herself for it all. My dad had the extra guest room decorated for Leo, so he'll have his own room.
Leo and Alè still are living with us, they haven't talked to or seen their mom. Neither of them want to and I don't blame them.
ReRe came over a few times. I can tell she knows something is... different about me. She's always been good at reading people. And I've always found that amazing about her. Always knowing when someone isn't okay or fine.
But at this moment, this point in time, I hate it. I hate that she's always giving me a look that screams "I know there's something wrong."
She's asked me if I'm okay. I've said yeah. Because I am okay. I can tell she doesn't really believe me. I tell her over and over that I'm okay. She just responds with, "You don't have to tell me what's wrong right now, but if you wanna talk I'm here."
No one else seems to think anything to wrong. Or if they do they don't say anything.
Well, thats a lie. Isaac (who I've been avoiding) asked if I was okay two days ago. We were at school, I had just completely failed a test, a test in a subject that I have never failed in. And I failed all because in the middle of the test I looked up, looked out the window and I swear there he was. Him and his friend. Both there. Smiling at me.
