"Fuck." He whispers into my neck, sending a thrill of excitement through my body.
His lips still smothered kisses over my neck and his hands roamed my body, starting at my chest, going down to my stomach. Caressing my soft skin, his thumb trailed c...
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I live in a big fucking house. With full cupboards and spare bedrooms. I also have a big family. But I still feel lonely. Nothing seems to please me anymore. But that's life I guess. Full of disappointment and high expections.
I've tried to see the good in life but only the bullshit seems to find its way to me. I guess that was why I'm so done with everything. Done with living.
Maybe that was why I'm in this situation right now. Standing here, hoping for a sense of belonging in this world, on this Earth. With a knife on my wrist, ready to cut. Ready to end it.
But I know that I'm not brave enough. I'm not strong enough to actually do the deed. To actually kill myself. Because I'm fucking weak. I'm so weak that I let the smallest of things get to me and I'm so weak that I can't do the one thing that I've wanted to do for the past few years. I've wanted to do it so bad, so fucking bad.
But I couldn't.
A doorbell broke me out of my thoughts as I left the kitchen and started my trek to the front door. I opened the double doors, facing the pizza guy. He gives me a confused look before slowly handing me the box in his hand. I snatch the box and give the man some change.
"Are you okay?" He asks me. "You look really pale." He points to his cheek.
"Yeah... I'm fine." Don't talk to me, please don't talk to me. I go to close the door but he speakers up again.
"Are you sure? I learnt that it's always best to ask twice."
I gulped, swallowing my fear of speaking and and gave him a small smile.
Yeah, I'm fine."
He finally leaves and I close the doors before turning and walking into the smaller kitchen.
This is what I hated about social anxiety. Being scared to talk to someone because of the constant fear that they are judging you and they are always watching you. It was the worst feeling, not wanting to socialise unless you are with the people that you are comfortable and open with. Except... I don't have anyone to talk to, no one to share my feelings with.
As I sat on the bar stool and opened the pizza box, I just wanted to cry. So I did. I cried as I ate the pizza. I cried as I cleaned my plates. I cried as I got ready for bed. I cried whilst I was on social media, pretending to be someone I'm not. A happy, joyous person with my whole life ahead of me. But I don't think I'm going to live to see my 18th birthday. I also cried myself to sleep that night, like most nights.
I don't dream, dreaming is for people with aspirations and goals. I had neither.
My alarm woke me up the next morning. I didn't want to get up, I wanted to sleep in but college informs my parents when I miss registration because of... past situations.
Grumbling, I pull myself out of bed and into the en suite on the other side of my room. Turning the tap on, I splashed some warm water on my face, fully waking me up.
After brushing my teeth and using the toilet, I walk into my wardrobe and pick out a simple outfit for the day. I choose out a simple black top and white mom jeans, I'm not trying to impress anybody.
Collecting the books I needed for the day and combing through my hair, I trekked downstairs, grabbing a glass of water.
I hate taking the bus. With my parents out of town in business for a few months, I'm not trusted to take my car. My parents are extremely cautious about what I do yet they are fine leaving me at home for months. Fucked up, I know. With the social anxiety crawling through my blood, being around people isn't appetising to me but sometimes I have to dig through to be able to make it out onto the other side.
As I left my house, I only had to walk down the road to the bus stop. A couple of people had already gathered there, people that I didn't particularly want to talk to. My pace slowed slowed as I neared the bus stop and I stood a couple feet away from everyone else, nobody would bother me.
That was when the head itching happened. I could feel my scalp tickling, urging for me to release the sensation. I fiddled with my fingers, trying to stop myself from digging my fingers into my hair.
With a grunt, I let my fingers fly up to my head as they slowly itched at it. I looked around, making sure that no one was watching before I increases the pace a little, digging my nails into my sore scalp. I know that this is happening because of the stress of exams that are coming up. I know that I have nothing to worry about. Despite everything, I do quite well in school. But that doesn't stop me from freaking out about what happens if I mess it up or if I'm sick or if I don't know the answer to a question...
The bus pulls up and I pull my fingers away from my scalp. Evidently, I wait near the back so that other people can go on first. Then there's the quest of finding a spare seat whilst everyone's eyes are on you, and only you. You could swear the whole world was conspiring against you.
The bus driver wasn't nice. Fucking twat. He wouldn't even give me a smile after I had accepted my bus ticket. Not that I wanted to communicate with him, it would have been nice if he had shown interest in his job.
I quickly find a seat next to an old lady who smiles as I sit down. At least some people have decency, my faith in humanity has been slightly restored.
I exit the bus a couple of streets away from college and I walk the rest of the way, avoiding people who know me. When I spot Laura, I curse under my breath and bow my head, trying to silently walk past her without her noticing me.
When I look up to see if I had made it, Laura makes eye contact with me. Her eyes light up and she scowls before approaching me.
"Aria." She says as she stands in front of me, blocking my way.
I don't say anything, I'll end up making a fool of myself.
"Cat got your tongue? Speak up you bitch."
I was never able to speak in front of Laura. Whenever I tried, my hands would start to shake and I could feel the sweat building up on my forehead.
"What do you want?" I am able to muster up a few words, but I keep my head down, not able to look at her steel blue eyes.
"Did you even try to not look like a tramp today? Are you homeless or something?" Laura knew full well that my parents are wealthy, but whatever makes her sleep at night.
I watch as a guy comes up from behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her back.
"Laura. Don't start anything." He says before slightly guiding her towards her friends. He turns back around to me, sighing and smiling.
"I'm sorry about Laura. She can a bitch sometimes."
My eyes widen at his speech, but I don't say anything.
"She's just looking for attention, don't feed into it."
I slowly nod and step away, ducking my head and walking away. Phew. Today's encounter with Laura wasn't as bad as before. Maybe because her friend had to stop her before it got too bad. But it's the times when I'm called a slut or a whore that really break me. And there's nothing I can do about it. Because I'm fucking scared.
Scared of the world.
Hey! I hope you liked this chapter, it took some time to write it.
It gave an insight on Aria's life and it vaguely touches on what she's going through.
We meet Laura and there was a small appearance from Jacob 👀
