what happened to louisa xun

seventeen

when february reached its end visions of george began to seep into louisa's dreams. he was everywhere, in the television, watching her on the streets late at night. she just thought she was crazy, which was true to an extent, but she otherwise ignored it.

the bell above her head rang when she entered motor, angela was nowhere to be found, but george was smiling at her from his place on a poster. louisa rubbed her eyes and his face disappeared, fuckshit gave her a look.

"what's up, sis?" ray greeted her from behind the counter as he tended to a customer. lou smiled at him, a yawn escaping her lips. she didn't think anything of it, but fuckshit did. he threw his empty arizona bottle at her, shaking her out of her daze.

she realized she hadn't moved from her spot in front of the door, and she didn't have the energy to do so. when was the last time she slept? she couldn't remember. her brain carried her to the couch where she collapsed and laid her head back.

"are you on something?" rueben joked, louisa hummed a response.

"he's everywhere," she groaned. "whenever i close my eyes he's there, i can make his face out in the bumps in the walls. i know he's dead, but he's every-fucking-where."

she didn't have to say his name for the boys to know who she was talking about. it had almost been a year since she arrived home in her torn clothes, almost a year since she first went back to motor as if nothing had happened. the feeling of beating someone to death with a bat had never left her, when she laid in bed her arms would twitch.

"usually stuff comes back on anniversaries, it's like your subconscious is reminding you what happened," forthgrade mumbled his fact, hands playing with the camera in his lap. "i mean, i don't know."

"i need a drink," louisa yawned again, rejecting the urge to jolt in her spot.

"what happened to your friend?" everyone looked toward fuckshit, who stared pointedly at lou. "drew n' them, where are they?"

"fuckshit, not today," ray stopped the argument he saw coming. the blond boy rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, his blood boiling.

the week before, lou drew a line between her and fuckshit, letting him know that she didn't plan on dropping drew for him. it hurt his feelings, he was never the one to be rejected. they left on those terms, and fuckshit hadn't been able to stop thinking about the way she looked him in the eyes and said "i don't need you anymore".

she should have stabbed him and twisted the knife, he knew it would have hurt less. fuckshit sniffled, forcing his attention to the television before he lost control of his emotions.

the boys were aware of their conversation after the blond boy trudged into motor with a blunt in his hand, eyes lower than usual. he broke down, telling them her exact words in a heartbroken rage.

i don't need you anymore, what the fuck was that? who says that? daniel couldn't stop replaying those words in his head, thinking about what it meant, hoping that there was an underlying message she was trying to convey.

there wasn't, she laid her feelings out perfectly in five words. i needed you before, whenever we were apart i felt like i would die, but you're not necessary for my survival. you never were, and i'm realizing this now.

fuckshit shook his head and looked in lou's direction. she was sleeping on the couch.