Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

11 // Practice

The next few days went by quickly.
The next few days were boring.

Boring and quick - not a good pair.

But, hey? The fun part?

Just kidding, there was no fun part.
I'd come home from school to an empty house. Both mum and Michael were busy with work this week. Not that I knew if this was a 'usual' for Michael to work till late, but for my mum, it was unexpected.

She worked as a manager assistant in a tech company downtown for 5 years now, so I was typically used to her being home by the time I came back from school.

As for Michael... I'm still trying to feel comfortable around him. So for now, I guess I'll be asking Damon instead about where his dad works.

Speaking of Damon, where was that kid?

He wouldn't come home until after 8pm. I'd hear him walk through the main door as I sat upstairs in my room, while he explained to his dad that he was 'out with a friend' or just a plain 'sorry'.

The only time I saw him this week was at school, a glimpse of him in the hallways.

But more importantly, the nightmares came back to me again. Slowly but surely.
I'd wake up at 4 in the morning from the jump scare, get dressed, no matter how early it was, and be out the door before anyone else in the house was.

Other than this, nothing eventful happened.

"You still on for tomorrow?"

I didn't realize how long I must've been staring at my pencil for since Violet came to sit next to me in History class. I place it back on the desk and turn to her with a reassuring nod.

"Of course. I promised you didn't, I?"

"You didn't, actually", she points out, "But you agreed to be my partner. Which I really appreciate, by the way."

"Oh, come on, you're saying it as if I'm some sort of royalty", I nudge her and see our teacher walk into the class.

"Besides", I say, picking out a textbook from my backpack, "I'll be at your house for like an hour or two. It'll be fun."

She smiles and faces the front.

"I'm really looking forward to it", she whispers while staring straight ahead.

|

I came home to, once again, a dead house.

Adding to that, we ran out of chocolate bars - a childish disaster for me - so I decided to starve until dinner and went upstairs to take a shower.

Showering after school felt like washing off all the 'school' off your body. The lingering scent of other people left on your clothes, the dirt from your face and even those pen doodles on your hands.

That's what shower gel companies should advertise their teen products with:
"Scrubby dub the school away!"

Hovering my hand over the bathroom door knob and dressed in a comfortable shirt and shorts, I scrolled through the messages on my phone. The most recent being from mum: