Abandonment is one word to describe Evelyn Ward's childhood.
Known as an orphan freak and paranoid schizophrenic, she was dragged through years of therapy after admitting to hearing whispering voices and seeing creatures and living shadows.
...
Come the end of the week, my world had completely caved in. While I spiraled deeper into the abyss of my own making, I slapped away the hands that offered to pull me back up, and set ablaze to all my bridges.
Jorden didn't understand why once again I shut him out, refusing to open up and share with him my pain. I couldn't put that on him -- the guilt was mine to bear, though despite my best efforts it seemed to be tearing down our paper foundations I had struggled so hard to construct.
The closer he got, the more I pushed him away. I tried to ignore the pain I caused him -- it was for his sake that I forced the distance between us. Letting him in would've only caused him grief -- or so that was the excuse I told myself to keep from breaking every time I ignored another phone call.
Then this morning when Chelsea had tried to talk to me, I had brushed her off, choosing to sever my ties rather than let her in and risk being hurt again. She had her reasons, I suppose, for not calling me -- better reasons perhaps than I did for not calling Jorden, but it didn't erase the fact that when I had reached out, she wasn't there.
So, here I sulked by the register of the Shake Shack, suffering one customer after the next while my bitterness grew. The demons grew bold, feeding off my constant acrimony, their shadows looming closer, whispering their malice in my ear.
"Here's your order. Have a great day." My voice was a false chirp forced through gritted teeth that mimicked a smile.
The tall woman standing on the opposite side of the counter picked up her drinks, walking away without so much as a thank you as if I were a mindless servant and not a human being in need of compassion.
I jerked my head to the side as a claw sank into my neck and the shadow wrapped itself around my shoulders.
The next customer in line stepped up. A young man whose tanned olive skin and dark eyes would've been extremely attractive if not for the ugly sneer he wore on his face. "Get me a large Vanilla Chai Tea, low fat. And make it quick, I have places to be."
Without a word, I punched in his order, taking his money and handing him the change while struggling to maintain my artificial, cheerful exterior.
His eyes seared into my back, making my skin crawl as I turned to make his stupid low fat shake. Every snide comment he muttered all the while drove me closer to slapping the arrogant smirk off his face.
The shadow coiled around me hissed its venom into my ears, fueling my annoyance into outrage.
"Stop it!" I hissed as its claws pierced my skin.
The guy's mocking laughter burned my ears, and my hands shook as I placed the plastic cup in front of him on the counter.
"Hey, Crazy Chick, maybe try talking a little less to your imaginary friends and pay attention to your customers. I said low fat."
My eyes bit into him with teeth sharper than a wolf's. "It is low fat."
"But there's whipped cream."
"You never said no whipped cream." My hands curled into fists, my fingernails biting crescent-shaped wounds into my palms. My grit teeth held back the torrent of anger swelling within me.
"Yeah, well, low fat implies no whipped cream, Sweetcake."
With that, the dam burst. I hurled the shake at him, my anger taking control and surging forward. "And what the hell does that imply, Dickweed?" I shouted as liquidy ice cream dripped down his face. "That you should shut your fucking mouth and learn some basic fucking manners before someone punches you in your goddamned stupid face!"
He stood there, mouth gaping, coated in ice cream. "What the fuck, you crazy bitch!"
Every head in the room turned to stare. Even Chelsea stood in a shocked silence as Mr. Crowley stormed out of his office to behold the source of the commotion.
His eyes surveyed the scene, coming to rest on me with a mask of stony anger. "Evelyn, office. Now."
Still seething, I stormed past him, catching Chelsea's concerned glance on my way to the office.
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Evelyn usually isn't one to react so harshly, is she? Could there be some correlation between her emotional state and how badly the demons affect her? Is there a cause and effect, or is it merely coincidence?
Let me know your thoughts and opinions in the comments - I always appreciate your feedback, and I love hearing your thoughts.
