The Thoughts That Weren't Suicidal

17 | Don't Take The Money

"You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it // (I'm in love and you've got me, runaway)" - Don't Take The Money

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"Adrianna are you sure that your brother is okay with this?" Kris asked, slightly nervous as she drove.

I rolled my eyes in response, but didn't actually answer her because I haven't had time to figure out what I wanted to tell her yet. I couldn't lie because lying is bad for you, so I had to find a stretched truth somewhere.

Really, I shouldn't even have to be spending brain power on this. When has Kris ever worried about doing the right thing? Never. So why should she start now?

When I left the house, I ran to the park in Olympic record time; I wanted to be as far away from the house as fast as possible. I didn't want Cole to be able to look out of my open window and see me running down the street. Me jumping out of my window would have amounted to nothing if I had only gotten 2 seconds of freedom.

The only thing I forgot to do was leave a note; Cole is going to be extremely worried. He's probably going to think that I'm dead or something.

I wonder if wanting to be dead counts for anything.

"He's fine with it Kris. Stop worrying." He's fine. Breathing constitutes as fine.

Kris nodded, and I watched her expression relax and a smile break onto her face. I rolled my eyes and turned back towards the window. Why is she smiling? What do I keep saying that's so amusing? Maybe I should just stop talking. That way maybe Kris will stop smiling so much.

"We're going to have fun Adri." I ran away from home. The least that we better have is fun. This is probably going to be the last thing I'm able to do before I'm locked in my room and never let back out; Cole is going to end up homeschooling me and everything. Actually, thinking about it now, it doesn't seem too bad.

A girl home alone and her razor can never be too bored.

You're not supposed to be thinking about that. Why? Because we're with Kris; we told her that we'd stop. We've told a lot of people a lot of things. I thought that we'd already come to the conclusion that Kris is an exception. The only conclusion that I've come to about Kris is that she has good taste in food and has a knack for defusing a bad situation.

"You didn't hear a word I just said. Did you?" Kris asked, and my head whipped towards her. It's not my fault; I was having a conversation.

"No," I answered sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders slightly.

Kris laughed quietly, and I leaned back against my chair, listening. Her voice may make me want to strangle her, but her laugh has quickly become one of my favorite things. No one nor nothing else has ever really made me feel the same type of warmth and contentment. I'm still trying to figure out whether that's a bad or good thing though.

"Do you do that a lot?" She asked, then elaborated when I tilted my head at her. "Have conversations with yourself. How often does that happen?"

My heart dropped into my stomach, despite my lungs' attempt at shriveling up to try and give it a net. Now my heart is burning in acid and my lungs are probably next. They want to hide so desperately, that a pit of acid looks so appetizing.

"Are you going to ignore me?" What does it look like Kristina?

"Can I ask another question?" I quickly nodded and started getting the excavation crew together for my heart. Time to start breathing again.

"What was the shot that Ms. Lauren was trying to give you?" Never mind, cancel that.

Kris is asking unnecessary and depressing questions; None of the things that she's asking me are pertinent to the fun we're supposed to be having. She probably just wants to blackmail me into doing something, so she's trying to get dirt on me. Well, the jokes on her because I am dirt. So ha.