The Garden of Eden || Canis Canem Edit / Bully [ #WATTYS2018 ]

Chapter Sixty-Two: Clawing Panther

'"I can't help it that you were born with a defect!" A shrill voice screeched in rage, her red claws struggling to form a fist. "You certainly did not inherit that from me, Eden,"

"Oh, so anxiety is a defect now?" I croaked, my hand nursing my stinging cheek that was almost the same colour as my mother's ruby nails.

"You're useless to me now! How are you meant to carry down the Milenko name with that label of anxiety?" Her hollers began to fade away, decreasing in volume steadily. "Worthless piece of trash,"

Tell me something that I am not aware of, oh dearest mother.'

The lazy summer breeze swayed the delicate treetops, causing a leaf to flutter down from its home. It trickled down to the ground, falling on the unmown grass of the courtyard. It was a beautiful summer morning. The sun's glorious golden rays shone through the windowpane, illuminating the small dorm room and the person inside of it. Eden was sitting upright in her bed, her skin bathed in sheen composed of cold sweat, her eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Her hand was grasping at where her heart lay beating rapidly inside her chest, her sharp nails digging at the skin through her nightgown as though she wanted to claw it out. Laboured breaths escaped her lips in rhythm with her heaving chest, as she struggled to gain her breath back. Her eyes darted rapidly around the room, scanning her surroundings in a search for something, or rather someone.

As her breath returned to normal, her heart sank deep into her chest at the realisation. "Gary..." She mutters in a sorrowful tone, raking her nails through her wild chocolate curls.

She had to escape the confinement of her dorm room, she just had to. She needed someone to talk to, she was sick of leaving her emotions and thoughts bottled up inside of her. 'Who do I have now? No one, I simply cannot speak to anyone about this. I can't speak to Jimmy for obvious reasons, Petey would blab to Jim and talking to Johnny about it would just hurt him even more.' Her shoulder throbbed, reminding her that it was still injured and required a bandage change. 'I could talk to Mandy... I'll do that and change my bandages afterwards.'

Eden nodded to herself in agreement, a gracious grin spreading across her plump lips. She hopped out of bed, practically skipping over to her wardrobe. She ripped open its cherry oak doors and reeled out a fine taffy pink rob and slipped it over her nightgown. The silk fabric gently caressed her skin, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. It reminded her of Gary's touch, his nimble fingers running across her scalding skin. She shook her head defiantly, forcing those heart-warming thoughts out of her mind. Eden tied the silk robe's fabric belt into a bow, the fabric effectively covering her modesty and she trod over to her door. She stepped into her matching fluffy slippers and glanced over fleetingly at the alarm clock sitting on her bedside table, the time read 7:01 am in blaring red numbers. Reluctantly, Eden forced herself to leave the warm and comforting confinement called her room and step out into the oddly desolate hallway.

In actuality, her room was not comforting anymore. It was more reminiscent of a prison. Her mind was constantly plagued with thoughts and memories of Gary, with his playful smirk and that glimmer of mischievousness in his eyes. Eden may be a master of displaying an emotionless poker face, but she knew that if she were to face her lover once again, she would break down into an endless stream of tears. She knew this full well, no matter how much she wished to resist it. The temptation of bursting into tears at that very moment in time as Eden trod down the creaking staircase, was almost overpowering. The familiar odour of perfume and chocolate chip cookies wafted into her nose, an aroma the common room of the girl's dorm always smelt of. There was the girl she was looking for, Mandy Wiles, relaxing comfortably on a couch. Her bare legs swung back and forth from their perched position on the arm of the chair as she hummed a pop song, blowing on her newly painted admiral blue nails.