Lolita Brown. Behind her blond hair and enchanting blue eyes lies a world of pain. There are so many labels stapled to her back, everyone knows her life story.
Hunter Kings. A boy once known as trouble from New York, enters Lolita's world in an esc...
M E A N I N G F U L M I S T A K E S Chapter Thirty Two
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I haven't felt it in a long time, but I feel empty.
A void that sits in the middle of my chest.
Suffocation floats in the air around me. Like poison that attempts to seep in my blood. I'm aware that I am sitting still in a room full of people, but it's hauntingly quiet.
As if I'm surrounded by ghosts as hollow as I am.
Until a horrid screeching noise echoes around the eating hall- of cafeteria for better words, as a girl pulls back the chair across from me.
It's compulsory to sit here everyday for our scheduled time. It's done so that doctors can monitor us if we decide to eat something, then they can note who needs to be watched.
"I overheard some girls talking." The unfamiliar girl with bright ginger hair sits herself down and nods her head in the directions of the table where majority of the girls sit together. "Apparently you're the Lolita who has a record for being here the longest, and after a few months, you're back."
"Do you want a signature or something?" My words are spoken slow. I'm not in any mood for conversation. I'm okay with being stuck in my little bubble by myself.
The red headed girl looks taken by surprise. "I'm sorry if I offended you or something. I was just curious to see if what they were saying was true or not." Her hair amazes me the more I stare at it. It's so coppery- ginger, that it hardly looks real.
Her cheeks are dusted in pale freckles and her eyes are a forest green. Her milky skin and sunken facial structure glows under the lights.
I envy her looks. I'd do anything to trade my silvery hair and boring blue eyes for something to rare.
"Well, they are." Bitterly, I say and push the lunch tray in front of me even further away. Any thought I even considering having about eating to get out of here is now gone after she brings my past. The sight of sandwiches and salad is making me sick.
Because when I see that food, I'm reminded of where I am. That I'm being watched and treated for something Doctor Weston understands on a textbook. He hasn't lived in my head and heard how I'm programmed.
"I'm Harper." She introduces, despite my efforts to get rid of her, and extends her hand over the table. I raise a brow and hesitantly shake her hand.
I suppose this is the same way I met Chuck Vanderwal when he was admitted. He and I kept each other company here- we kept each other sane.
"I'm Lolita, but you already know that." I'm uncomfortable knowing that people are aware of who I am and that I have a reputation.
It feels like my mother is seated around me. I'm in a room filled with her. She'd be telling me not to change for others. That this is my life and a way to numb the tears.
