I've always had a feeling that I would die young. Ever since I started pondering on deaths door I've had this feeling. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my...
The following chapter contains graphic depictions of sexualassault and violence which some readers may find disturbing.
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My head is against my open locker door, staring at my books that are thrown in here. My locker is half empty considering that I've taken most of my books home to study for finals that is just around the corner which just adds to my pile of stress.
I've been in my room most of the time, trying to avoid being a human being. It's awkward walking around the estate or even the halls of this school I'm in. I feel guilty.
If I could, I would pack my bags and move up to Massachusetts. Maybe meet up with Ravi even though I made it loud and clear I don't like him. He seems like a nice enough guy to ignore my previous thoughts about him.
I just can't think of any way to ask for forgiveness. I really screwed up at my birthday party. Diego has calmed down as he told me he doesn't care to fight in his last year of high school and Dre wasn't at my party so I didn't screw up our friendship. However, everyone else in my life won't even look at me.
I tried speaking to Nida when I saw her leaving for school this morning in her school uniform. The grey skirt and pink button up shirt that was supposed to be tucked yet she never does follow the proper school regulations. She just ignored my presence, got in her car and drove away. It hurt watching her drive away yet it's my fault she's acting the way she is.
There is no other excuse. None. I have no one else to blame, but myself for the consequences I'm facing.
It's been three weeks and I miss her. I miss the familiarity of her. Her smell, her touch, her comfort. I've never understood how someone can be so comforting. But that's until I met her. My love. My flower. My Nida.
If I can't get her to forgive me I'll have no other choice than to kill myself. Yeah, that will make her feel bad. It will even make my friends feel bad. That they cut off ties with me pushed me to suicide will absolutely destroy them-
"Duarte!" I feel my shoulder get pushed into the locker door with a big bang. My head whips to the side to see Luke visibly upset. "I'm talking to you!"
I shake my head, coming back to reality. My eyes travel down his body, noticing his crutches is gone and he can now walk on both feet. "Sorry," I rub my shoulder, feeling it throb from the aggressive push. "What were you saying?" I ask, feeling weird around him as we haven't spoken in weeks.
"I asked if you're still coming?" I force a smile and nod, struggling to remember him inviting me somewhere. "Yeah, I am... could you just tell me what's the dress code?"
His eyebrows pull together as he tilts his head to the side. "Huh? What type of question is that?"
I seriously can't remember what he invited me to. I begin to fake laugh to play off my question. "I'm kidding, I just need the address."
