Eighty Days of Heartache

the eighteenth day; [1]

THE EIGHTEENTH DAY
» PART [1]

"IVY I THINK I'm going to throw up," I moan from the bathroom, my head against the door as I knock on it repeatedly. The nerves in my stomach are folding over each other, and I genuinely do think I'm going to be sick.

On the other side of the door, in my bedroom, Ivy doesn't respond. Worriedly, I push open the bedroom door and find her glossing her lips, running the red lacquer over her plump lips expertly quick. Not a single mistake made.

She looks — as always — stunning. Her hair is tied into a messy bun on top of her head, a pair of gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears also. She hasn't gone to heavy with her makeup, a small amount of eyeshadow and a tiny flick of winged eyeliner to make her eyes look larger.

Ivy always looks beautiful, but when she knows people will be paying attention, she's goes all out.

"It'll be fine," she mumbles, not bothering to spare me a glance. "I mean, don't get me wrong I'm worried and you also have every right to be, but it can't be as bad as last time."

I sigh through my nose, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she brushes down her baby pink, skin tight dress. It comes to a few inches just above the knee, but with the nude heels that are discarded somewhere under the mess in my room, she'll look gorgeous.

I, on the other hand, didn't go for a dress. Ivy managed to convince me to go for a black denim skirt, and a navy blue sequinned body suit, paired with leather jacket.

And as much as Ivy wants to compliment me and my long legs, (which are fake tanned and waxed within a inch of my life) I still feel uncomfortable, sick, and undeniably, anxious.

"Ivy, I have a bad feeling about tonight," I whisper earnestly, watching as she throws me a look over her shoulder. She smiles at me sadly, shaking her head as she sits down at my vanity mirror.

"Doe," She pats the seat beside her, and reluctantly I comply and sit beside her. Her arm is thrown around my shoulder, and she pulls me close to give me a tight side hug. "It'll be fine."

I nod, unconvinced and still feeling anxious, but Ivy will be here with me. "Promise you'll leave when I leave?" My eyes grow misty, and my heart is clenching in my chest. It feels as if it's going to drop down to my stomach at any time.

Smiling at me, she gives me a firm nod before bringing her sparkly pink acrylic nails to her chest and slowly drawing a cross; right over her heart.

"Cross my heart and hope to fucking die."

I giggle, hugging her tightly and securely because I'm acting as if the apocalypse is upon us. Like this party is the end of the world, and to me, it possibly could be.

Do you ever get so anxious when an event comes around, that just the thought of said event makes you want to hide under your blanket and go through the breathing exercises that your mother taught you about?

That's how I feel about parties.

I'm willingly throwing myself into the lions den, and I know these lions haven't been fed for a while. They're hungry and out for a kill, and their prey is a little ginger girl with trust issues.

Tonight won't end well.

They never do.

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