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She woke with a start

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She woke with a start.

Hands lifting to her face, already knowing what she would find, she swiped at the fresh tears. An exasperated sigh left her, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore without the aid of some medication or another.

Slipping out of her king-sized bed, she padded across her room to her large en suite. After her eyes were accustomed to the bright light reflecting off of the white marble, she opened her medicine cabinet, searching for the stash of melatonin pills she'd been relying on for the past month.

Her lips turned down at the corners as she came to the realization that there were none left. Closing the cabinet slowly, she noticed her reflection in the mirror.

The girl staring back at her was nothing like she remembered. Her gray-blue eyes were rimmed with red, swollen from the crying she hadn't even realized she was doing. Her straight black hair was frizzy and unkempt, as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks, which very well may have been the case. Her normally golden tan skin looked paler than ever.

She was the vision of hollow. Of broken-hearted. A prisoner of her own guilt and grief.

Her Bergdorf lace-rimmed pajamas hung off of her thin frame, and she realized how much weight she'd truly lost in the past five weeks. She felt tears stinging her eyes again, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop them from pouring out, tasting copper in her mouth.

She glared down the girl in the mirror. "Don't you dare. Don't you fuckin dare. It's been a month." She saw her shoulders shaking, hating how bony and pronounced they'd become. She inhaled, feeling her lungs fill shakily. She continued breathing in and out, each time shaking a little less, until she knew she was past the point of letting the tears fall.

"It's time." She blinked at her reflection once more before turning off the light and getting back into her bed.

She glanced at her phone for the first time since waking up, noticing how it lit up with notifications despite the late hour.

It only served as a reminder of what was to come tomorrow.

The first day back. The first day of her senior year.

That's why it was time. Time for her to put on an act, to pretend she was okay. Tomorrow she would be watched, everyone waiting for her to break down. Everyone waiting for her to crack under the pressure, under the weight of all that she had been through.

She was their queen, and if she didn't put on a show, everyone would know.

Everyone would know that she was a fraud.

Staring at the ceiling, she flipped a switch within herself, one that silenced the buzzing of grief in her head. One that quelled the emotions that swelled within her.

Her thoughts slipped back to them, but this time she was okay. Or at least that's what she told herself.

Pulling her duvet to her chin, she closed her eyes and fell into a terror-filled slumber.

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