Living in Non-Existence

CH. 17 Broken

Thank god phones had a block button that had an infinite amount of people allowed to add because otherwise I would've needed a new phone with the way Marc was blowing up my phone. Why had I been so stupid? I never thought I was going to be that girl that lets a guy totally and completely mess her up, but I guess no one believes it until it happens.

When I arrived home it was completely different, the air seemed clearer, the breeze was warmer, and the trees seemed almost happy to have me back, at least someone was. There was no one home, just the butler that let me in with his courteous smile but other than him, the house was quiet. 

I dropped my bag with it's load of clothes in the laundry room, not bothering to unpack anything, I just wanted to sleep. 

The room felt sterile, too unloved in, too clean. I ripped off my clothes as fast as I could and hopped in the shower. The water flowed all over my body cleaning away the sand and memories of the summer. 

There's something about a shower that makes everyone think, kind of like a car wash. It might be because there's nothing you can do in either of the situations, you have to be there for however long and your mind wanders. 

And mine wandered to Marc, all the best memories, because that's the only kind there were. 

I couldn't believe that this week, this coming Monday I would be back at that prep school with its regulation uniform skirt, it's too stiff polo, and the backpack that always seemed to way a million pounds. I had thought that the summer would make it easier to go back, that I would be able to put a smile on my face and really just enjoy it all. 

Now, I was sitting on the floor of the shower with the water dripping in my face, my arms wrapped around my legs, tears freely flowing. I thought I couldn't die from a heartbreak but it sure felt like it in that moment. 

The last thing I wanted to do was pick up my phone and text all the "friends" I had abandoned but it started blowing up. There were simple: "Hey, I heard you're back," to more complex: "what happened to you, I thought you were going to come with me on vacay." So I did what any logical human being would do, I turned off my phone, and crawled into bed, even if I wasn't tired, the sadness would end me soon enough.

When I was younger people would call me a doll, which I thought was cool because dolls were perfect, they were the epitome of a flawless person. Then when I grew up I realized that dolls were only good until they broke, with one arm kids wouldn't want it anymore. That's how I felt now with the blanket covering my face, like a doll loosing her parts, so broken no one would dare step close to me.