A fresh start is exactly what London McLaren needs in order to forget the demons of her past. A new last name, a new town and a new school.
She's about to start her final year of high school, ready to obey her parent's orders to keep her head down a...
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Sunday, April 5th, 2020
I hadn't had a day like this in months. A day where I felt completely and utterly sorry for my existence.
As much as I tried to hold up this exterior, an exterior that made me seem like I was getting by, I wasn't.
My parents had initially thought that maybe I had undiagnosed depression. This wasn't the case after I had been tested. I just had a lot of grieving to do, they said.
Was that still the case? Was it normal to feel like this after almost five months?
I'd never felt grief at this magnitude before. Pretending not to be sad was the hardest part. Because honestly, my brother didn't deserve my sadness. He hurt people. He hurt me.
My parents hadn't come to see if I was alright all day and it was nearly one in the afternoon. I hadn't been downstairs once.
They were still tiptoeing around me since the argument like they were afraid I'd burst any second. Despite hardly talking, they still held my leash tight. 'Tutoring' was my only way out the door besides school.
My phone begins to vibrate on my bedside table. I sit up in bed, reaching over to see who it is.
Kennedy's name flashes across the screen but I decline it. She doesn't leave a voicemail.
She'd probably heard about what happened last night with Harry. That makes me cringe. I didn't know how I was going to face him at school tomorrow.
My phone starts to ring again and I watch it vibrate in the palm of my hand.
Sydney's name flashes up this time. I don't bother declining it. I just let it go to voicemail.
They knew about last night. Why would they both happen to be ringing minutes apart otherwise?
A group text from Kennedy comes in, directed to Sydney and me.
Lon. R u ok? Harry is worried. Call us x
I should just ignore it but when have I ever listened to logic?
I'm ok. Just felt sick. Tell Harry sorry.
I backspace the part about Harry and just send the first two parts.
They both reply within minutes but I don't bother looking, already feeling guilty for having people who care enough about me.
I tap my fingers against my knee, leaning my head back against the bedhead.
My eyes roam over to my desk where my laptop rests charging. I pad over to grab it before pulling the duvet back under my chin.
I know I had math homework that was due tomorrow but I didn't care. There was only one thing that I could do right now.
I begin by typing in my brother's full name. It takes less than a second for 51,000 results to fill my page.
