Insane // Rafe Cameron

FOUR

"I'm not," I say quietly.

"You think I'll buy that?" He arches an eyebrow, fully aware of the falsehood.

"I... I..." I attempt to reply, attempting to reassure him, yet my voice falters.

"If I were you, I'd drop that idea fast," He says coldly, showing no sympathy.

I can't help but look down, feeling frustrated with myself. Why can't I just keep lying? Why can't I talk back?

But before I can dwell on it, Rafe lightly knocks on the door frame, getting my attention.

I look up and meet his striking ocean-blue eyes, but just like the ocean there is a deep darkness underneath the surface.

"I'll find you something to wear.Meanwhile, you might consider freshening up," he suggests, indicating my appearance.

Did he just hint that I look messy?

Uncertain whether to be insulted or irritated, a surge of anger courses through me in response to his disrespectful remark.

He just gives me a short grin before leaving, leaving me fuming.

I rush to the door, but he's already remembered to lock it.

Screw him. Screw it all.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Tick, Tock, Tick...

I fixate on the sound, every passing moment stretching out as he remains absent.

Deep down, I don't truly desire his return, yet the wait within this room grows wearisome. It's as though it has become my sole pastime.

Wait, sleep, wait, sleep... It's an exasperating cycle that incessantly teases me.

Surely, there must be something else. I glance around the spacious, silent room. My eyes immediately fall upon the imposing black bookshelf.

Reading.

I rise from the comfort of the bed, as I walk over I feel the cold floor underneath my feet, I miss my shoes. It's a weird thing to miss but I do.
I also miss walking on grass, just taking a normal walk after a long day after school. It's weird how we first realize how much we love it when we lose it.

I stride over to the shelf. Slowly, I peruse the titles of the books. They exude an air of importance and antiquity.

I select one and attempt to decipher its contents, but the unfamiliar language stumps me. I reach for another, but the outcome remains the same.

Can you believe it? I can't even make sense of a single book. It's as if they are determined to subject me to eternal boredom.

I take another glance around, but my mind draws a blank. It's like everything is empty and fuzzy. Maybe a splash of water on my face will help me think straight.

I go through the black door to the bathroom and turn the witch. The room lights up and a reflection appears in the huge mirror.

It's a lonely girl.

Her Oily and greasy hair, dark circles, red eyes, lips that are dry and chapped, and skin that's oily and sticky.

That's me? I raise my hand slowly to check even though I know the answer.

Just as I knew, the girl on the other side raises her hand with me.