𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Forty-Six

the chapter

The next day marked a week and a day until Alessia was supposed to start college. Instead of preparing for college—buying school supplies, researching course opportunities, buying a new bag, new clothes and figuring out how to style her hair for her first day, she was planning something much, much more sinister.

And I think I knew what it was before it happened.

She woke up later than usual and alarmed at that, too. She bolted upright, checking her room, her door and her lock. Her dad had not broken in and beat her in her sleep, but he had hammered a shower rail into the centre of her door. She stared at it, a numbness inside of her that soon exploded with emotion, and then settled down again. She couldn't decide which to be—vacant or overflowing.

She decided not to decide, and headed into her bathroom for a bath; just her usual Sunday morning routine. Once she was clean, she checked that the hallway was clear before running down the stairs and grabbing something quick to eat. She swiped something else, too—a knife.

I think I knew before it happened.

She ate her 'breakfast' whilst scrolling through an untold amount of Instagram accounts. She started with Katy, Lizzie and Matt, before working her way through Mollie and Lucas. Then she stumbled across Ked's, then onto Johnny, Kiara, Dylan. Finally, she sat and stared at mine, Olivia Clark's. Before long, she got fed up of studying my 'perfect face' and hurled her phone to the ground, fists clenched.

She checked the time—2 pm.

Alessia rose from her chair, throwing her unfinished food into her bin, before untying her dressing gown and letting it fall to the floor. Unexpectedly, she then turned to the mirror, staring at her reflection. She sighed—what a shame, she thought.

I think I knew before it happened.

As she pulled on her favourite jeans, she pointed out everything wrong with her appearance, most coinciding with Kiara's speech at Prom.

As she pulled on her favourite top, she wondered why it was that I—Olivia Clark—got everything good in the world. Perfect looks, perfect grades, perfect social life, and...Dylan. Alessia had tried to tell herself over and over again that it wasn't just about Dylan, that her hatred for me was just innate and caused by my actions, not her thoughts.

But then she began to wonder why she was defending herself so much. Maybe it was all her fault. Or maybe the world just works out this way. That's often how Alessia felt; the whole world was pushing against her relentlessly. Like a storm with no shelter. An epidemic illness with no cure. Like her life with no end.

I think I knew before it happened.

Time passed, and with every tick of Alessia's clock, a new thought processed. A new idea, a new method, a new thing to say. After thousands of ticks, Alessia sprang up from her bed and pulled out her favourite dark leather boots. She slipped on a black, thin jacket over her t-shirt; the temperatures were still high despite the dripping rain.