Chapter 31- 1 year later

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Chapter 31- 1 year later.

I woke up, I combed my hair and quickly got dressed. Today is the first day of college. Everything has been great...the dayas adopted me....and sure the detectives already gave up on the case, sure Jackson left me to be with some bimbo. How do I know that? Well he posted a picture of himself and her on my page. Do I care? Nahhh.

Five months ago.
I heard a beep on my page and opened it. I glanced and saw Jackson with some girl. I read the hash tag, #Lovers1Year
I bit my tongue as I reread the that hash tag over and over again, until I stuffed my head into my pillow and started crying my eyes out.

Present.
Okay, maybe I do care.....but that doesn't matter right? Anyways I'm not letting him or his donkey looking girl get in my way. But before he left I saw something that I wasn't supposed to see, by I'm not getting into that.

I jumped into my car and drove to the university. A big smile splattered onto my face as I parked. I walked inside the university and down to the office.

Blah blah blah, minutes later.
I sat in class, writing everything down. Towards the end of class I had two pages written.

I walked out and up to my dorm which is....it's....uh....I don't know where it is. I kept walking up and down halls, staring at the piece of paper that said my dorm number. I happen to look up and magically the dorm was there. I walked, no I trotted over there like that immature 18 year old I am. I opened the door and saw the most gorgeous room...that's not even decorated, it just has boxes.

I sighed and started unpacking the boxes and placing everything in nice spots. When I was done I jumped onto my bed with happiness....well that was until I heard footsteps.

"Hey, it's daytime lazy head, sleeping is for later."

I glanced over and saw a girl with black hair and black eyes. Ugh it's my roommate.

I glared at her In disgust.

"Well are you going to get your a$$ up or not?" She scowled.

I sat upright and gave her the death glare.

"No. Who says I have to get up? A nobody..." I snapped.

She glared at me.
"Says me."

"Well your not in charge of me so I'd suggest you just get the h*ll out!" I completely snapped.

She gave me one last glare before she walked out.

I fell back laughing. I still have it. This roommate is obviously going to hate me A LOT...but mostly because I'm going to be pissing her off the edge of mount Everest. I got out my phone and smirked, I am soooo-

Wait a second Paige Daya...remember how everything was when you last said that word?

Hmm, oh god...I was such a cocky little diva then...and that's exactly why I got kidnapped and thrown in some abandoned building with six other strangers.

Riiiigghhht. I advise you to not think about that lately, and I advise you to stop thinking of Jackson like some obsessed weirdo...you remember what happened last time, don't you?

IM NOT AN OBSESSED WEIRDO!!

Why are you yelling at me? I'm in your head.

Shut...up.

Well let me explain a bit about all that.

Four months ago after finding out about Jackson.

I stood at the very top of the apartment. I stood on the edge, moving closer and closer to the very edge. I heard people down below and people running up to where I'm at.

"Paige!!!"

I turned around and saw my mother and others with worried faces.

"I'm sorry..."

I closed my eyes felt myself falling but soon get grabbed by someone. I had tears rolling down my face as I suddenly jumped out of that trance and saw many people.

"I'm sorry!!" I croaked just before being carried downstairs, tied down to a gurney, and being put into an ambulance.

And now.

Because of how long that story would be...let me just paraphrase it for you. I basically freaked out because of Jackson and then that happened and then yeah...therapy and all kinds of cr*p.

I picked up my teddy bear, smudge, hugging him just before getting up to go down to get some lunch. I grabbed some orange juice and a sandwich. I glanced around after I finished my lunch and went on a walk.

An hour later.
I flopped onto my bed and closed my eyes and fell asleep.

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