Chasing Casey

Chapter Twenty Eight

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Dedication: Squeaky500 for commenting more than once on the last update! Thank you!

Recap:

Goose bumps scattered across my skin as my eyes darted around. I often felt it but today, I had felt someone watching me. I couldn't see anyone around but I felt them.

My phone vibrated against my leg.

Casey: I couldn't leave any evidence. Sorry.

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

Holy shit.

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As I sat in front of my dusty mirror, I cringed at my own reflection.

The bags underneath my eyes are prominent, bordering on an unhealthy dark, purple shade. I find it impossible to sleep now, even with the light on. I keep waking up in cold sweat, my sheets sticking to me, as I keep thinking I hear footsteps, my door opening/closing and feeling like someone is watching me.

I am definitely going crazy.

I don't know how I haven't been kicked out of school yet, due to lack of attendance. Dr Ainsley said something about them giving me "special consideration" due to everything I have mentally dealt with in the past year and a half.

So here I am, sitting in front of my hardly-used mirror, attempting to cover my pale, blotchy face with expired makeup, which has been sitting under my bathroom sink for months. Feeling a little better about my dreary appearance, I got to my feet, shrugging into my coat.

I'm leaving earlier than usual, as I want to see Marissa before school. We haven't spoken since our argument outside the hospital. I don't know where her thoughts are at or how she feels, but I am going to find out very soon.

"I'm heading out now," I called to my parents, stuffing a banana into my bag for lunch. I hardly have an appetite at the moment, ever since Casey and I basically began texting. I haven't heard from him, since his weird, confession-type-thing after I went through the hospital footage.

"Not so fast, young lady," my dad said, placing his half-drank coffee onto the kitchen bench. "I'm driving you."

"I'm fine walking," I insisted, growing more frustrated with how they're treating me. It's like I'm made out of glass. I understand why of course, doesn't mean it isn't frustrating.

"No arguments."

I let out a sigh as he gathered his brief case. I followed him out to the car and slid into the passenger seat.

"I want to go talk to Marissa before school starts. Can you drop me off there?"

He frowned at me. "You're not planning to skip school or anything, are you?"

"No, I'm honestly going to talk to Marissa," I replied, buckling myself in. "I actually want to go to school. I need something to get my mind off of everything."

"Alright," he agreed, turning the car in the opposite direction to school. "You doing okay?"

"I'm getting there," I replied honestly. "Dr Ainsley is great. I'm connecting with him better than anyone else I've had sessions with."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, he doesn't make me feel like I'm crazy. It's a nice feeling."

Dad grew quiet as he received the not-so-subtle message that he is one of those that make me feel crazy. The rest of the drive was silent. He pulled out the front of Marissa's house and I pulled my bag from the floor, swinging it onto my shoulder.