Amren

{4} Sorry I Meant Pretty Face

It took me a while to compose myself. Granted, it's been a long time since I've had a panic attack that bad. I used to get them quite often from living with Hana and Edie. Ever since I started fighting, they've calmed down. This was a bit of a setback I guess.

I think I've been in my room for a few hours now. No one has tried to talk to me which I'm grateful for. I've simply been sitting on the hanging chair for hours. It spins slightly, it's pretty therapeutic.

I'm trying to come to terms with this situation I've found myself in, but every time I actually think about it, my brain cannot fathom it being real.

Six brothers, a huge mansion, bad people who are after me.

Yesterday I was a fighter with no family.

Today I'm a little girl with six older brothers.

What a f*cking downgrade.

I lean back in the chair and maneuver it slightly so that it sways more. This chair is the only good thing to come out of this whole situation honestly.

"Amren?" I hear someone at my door.

Kill me now.

"Yes?" I reply.

They took that as an invite to walk in. Tomorrow there will be a dent in the wall the size of my head.

It's Milo with a familiar duffel bag. I get up from the hanging chair and take the bag when he holds it out for me. I place it on my bed and look through it quickly. I see some familiar clothes, the cash I hid in here from my fight, and my most prized possession.

I gently lift up the photo frame of psycho bestie and I look at it for a moment.

"Who is that?" Milo asks.

"An old friend." I tell him, walking over to the shelves in my room and placing the photo on there.

First I kept the photo because it was one of the only things I ever owned. But since then I've gotten many more things, including my own apartment. Now I keep the photo because it's a reminder in a sense.

Don't. Trust. Anyone.

Psycho bestie is a reminder that people only care for themselves. I cant trust anyone to look out for me, she certainly didn't. I have to take care of myself, especially now.

She taught me a lot of things. My first punch, how to take the safety off a lighter, how to pick up broken glass without cutting yourself. But in my opinion, the most important thing she taught me was to take care of myself.

Maybe an unintentional lesson, but the most valuable in my opinion.

Scratch that, how to take the safety off a lighter proved to be quite useful.

Don't ask how.

"Are you still in contact with them?" Milo asks.

"No." I reply.

I go back to the bag on the bed when I'm satisfied with the placement of the photo. I avoid the money so that Milo doesn't see it. Rather I just take the clothes out and shove them randomly into some drawers.

"That's... organized." Milo comments sarcastically.

"Indeed." I reply with a smile.

"Are you coming down for dinner?" Milo changes the subject.

"Didn't think I had a choice." I remark.

"Technically you don't, but you haven't listened to Aslan up to now. I didn't know if you would with this." He comments.