Trust me, please || J.JK

1: New life

Staring down at my dialpitated Vans, I keep every step forward. I concentrate on the soft taps against the pavement. My head lowered down and cover with my hood.

I'm far away from home. Not that my relationship with my home was satisfactory but I did miss it.

It's okay. I can do this. Solitude is the only thing of my own now. I just have to walk and not contemplate about anything.

"Walk straight for 50 meters. You're destination in on your right." a voice chimes from my phone.

My thoughts come to a stop. It snaps me into reality that I was not ready to face.

I'm alone. Again.

A slow shaky breathe liberates from my stressed body. I continue walking pulling my suitcase with me and tugging the strap of my backpack closer.

New place, new people, new life.

Moving to a new place isn't an easy feat.

My therapist admonished me to relocate so that I can obliterate my horrifying past. It is a part of the treatment for my traumatic stress disorder. But my parents compelled me shift for my safety. To save me from those assassins hired by the  money-hunger beasts.

But little did they know that moving to a new place and talking to new people would also be stressful for an anxious asocial person like me and that no one can save me from those sniffing blood thirsty hounds.

There are people around who want me dead. Encouraging right?

I shake my head pushing the brimming tears back.

Already tired traveling four hours in the train, I have been walking for half an hour now trying to figure out where the house is.

"You've reached your destination" the app states disquieting my confused mode of being.

I shift my gaze to my said destination, an old house.

It seems like the house outlasted because it was made of concrete. Beautifully built. The window glasses is tinted with yellow and a few hinges are not in shape. I could imagine how mesmerizing it would have been when it was new.

It was completely different to my luxurious mansion but better than the rat hole where I spent my last three years in the hopes of concealing my identity.

The porch in the front had a fragile wooden railing with creepers going criss cross around them. Covering the antique brown with fresh and well nutured green. A small circular table with two chairs is the only furniture placed the covered shelter projecting in front of the house's entrance. Perfect for a tea break at evening with your loved one.

Knowing how to communicate with people when you have social anxiety disorder can be difficult. Even after receiving a long treatment, I found out that I lack some of the social skills necessary to connect with people effectively and proactively. It is a hurdle that I face in my everyday life.

But the last few years have helped me overcome it... a bit. Having to survive alone in this big world I've started to conquer this drawback with a little patience, practice and his help....

Don't think about him Y/n!

I take a deep breathe and take a step towards the front door.