Diary of a Runaway (BOOK #3)

Begin Again

Liv

            I wasn't sure what I expected my first day back. Granted, never in my life did I think I'd ever have to experience a first day back in the middle of a semester after being turned into a vampire and then back into whatever the hell I was now.

            As soon as I got home, I made my way to shower wanting to scrub off the grime of the day.

            I turned the water all the way to scorching hot, letting my human-esque body blister in the heat. I stared down at my hands. They seemed so fragile now. I was weak. Not even physically, but I felt mentally drained. My vision spun and blurred and noises came in and out.

            I stayed in there until the hot water turned ice cold, and then I stepped out and wrapped a warm towel around my torso.

            I reached up to rake a hand through my hair. When my hand came out through the tangles, a wad of hair appeared in-between my fingers. I was ready to throw it into the trash can in disgust until I noticed the color.

            I'd been a victim of bad dye jobs back in my middle school years. But this wasn't just another home attempt at hair care. Gray strands intertwined with black. I gazed at my scalp in the mirror noticing spots here and there.

            "What the hell?" I asked myself.

            As I peered at my reflection, I noticed more subtle differences. Were those crow's feet? Laugh lines? I hadn't expected to get any of this until I was at least thirty five. And even then, I always planned on plastic surgery of Botox or something.

            "Liv?" Hansen asked, knocking on the bathroom door. "You alright?"

            "Yeah," I croaked. "I'll be out in a minute."

            I wrapped myself tightly in the new fluffy bathrobe Angelina had picked out for all the girls. Even my bones felt weaker, my joints locking up more than usual. What the hell was happening to me?

            I stepped out of the bathroom, pulling my wet hair over my shoulder. "Hey," I said to Hansen who stood with his hands in his pockets, dressed in his usual black attire.

            "You were in there for a while." He came over to me, putting a light hand on my elbow. "Are you alright?"

            I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," I told him, my voice cracking.

            "Really?" An eyebrow shot up. "You don't look it."

            "Sorry. It's just been a long day. You know, being back at school and everything. High school sucks. People suck."

            "I understand."

            Funny, how it felt so odd just talking to him. After everything we'd been through in the past months--the countless mes suffering from emotional uncertainty--I could see the shimmering outlook of change in him.

            "Can we sit down?" I asked him, my legs feeling stiff from standing so long in the shower.

            Hanson and I sat at the foot on the bed. My thoughts flashed back to a similar moment a time not so long ago when I was a different me--one who didn't feel much. Who finally confronted Hanson about what he did to me and how one day he would get what was coming for him.

            "I told you I would be there for you," he started. "So if you need to talk about it, go ahead. I'm not going to laugh or tell you what to do with your life. I'm here to listen. You deserve someone who'll listen."