Savior

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have an angst chapter

"What's going on with you, Delia?" Lauren's mad at me because I've been (even more) distant recently, even with her.

I used to be able to tell her anything, I told her that I love her, I told her that she was everything to me. I'm a freshman dating a sophomore, if that gives you any clue as to how old we are.

"I don't know, Lauren." I'm mumbling, it's become a habit as of late.

"Really?" She crossed her arms. We're in my room at the moment, I'm sitting on my bed and Lauren's standing in front of me.

It's around the middle of the second school semester, February, March, I've stopped paying attention. It's still cold from winter.

"Every effect has a cause. What's causing you to be this way?" She continued. I'd normally lose myself in her eyes, but now I can't seem to look away from my coat on the wall just right of her.

All my other friends, the ones who helped me rack up the courage to talk to Lauren in the first place, barely see me anymore. They're in the parlor, here for a school assignment. I never really grew super close with any of them, probably Francis is the closest because we went to elementary school and up together.

"I don't know."

I lived in a different neighborhood from all of them. It was hard. It was even harder when my older brother left for college when I was starting second grade. I had no one to play with. Mother and father were busy with work.

"How many times are you going to say that you don't know something? Have you just stopped caring?" Lauren's getting mad at me.

"No, maybe, I don't know, okay?!" Tears had been slowly running down my face. I don't bother wiping them away because there's just going to be more.

Now my gaze in averted to the blurry floor, my teeth are clenched. I'm fidgeting with the sleeve of my sweater. I haven't resorted to self harm in a few years, yet I've been thinking about how to do it efficiently lately.

"Well there has to be a reason why you're doing so badly in school! If you fail your core classes, you're going to have to repeat grade nine!" Lauren's shouting.

I hate shouting. I don't know why. Ever since I made those first few amateur cuts on the back of my left forearm, I've just been prone to loud noises. I'm jumpy.

"What do you expect me to do?! Pull my work finished work out of my ass and turn it in, then try to understand whatever bullshit is on the final?! I haven't missed a day, I've been present in every class, I'm trying, Lauren!" I didn't mean to scream that. I never scream.

"If you need help, I'm here for you! I've been through those classes, I can give you pointers and help you with assignments! You just have to talk to me!" She's shouting louder now.

God I hate shouting. Asking for help is completely different story. I vaguely remember when my father used to help me in elementary school. I was to figure out what words were in the word 'pants'. I just repeated the word 'pan', not understanding that 'ants' was also in the word. He got mad at me or something, either way I was crying and curled in on myself behind the table. I think I stopped asking for help after that. I've been trying to be independent, yet I still depend on others to make me feel happy.

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