Ms. Anderson

Chapter 13

A/N
This chapter talks about self harm urges and rape.

I stir as someone gently nudges me awake. Opening my eyes, I see Hannah, and memories start flooding back.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," she whispers, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"Hey," I greet her with a smile. "What time is it?" I ask, unsure if it's still Wednesday or if I've stayed the night.

"It's only six," she replies, and I sit up, glancing out the window to see daylight streaming in.

"I should probably head home. Don't want my mom to worry again," I say with a smile, noticing a hint of sadness in Hannah's expression. "Unless you'd like me to stay," I offer.

"No. I mean, I'd like that, but you should go," she stumbles over her words, looking slightly nervous, and I can't shake the feeling that I've done something wrong.

"Is everything okay? Did I do something?" I ask, hoping I haven't overstepped.

"You didn't do anything. I'm fine. But you should go," she insists, and I nod. While she's already dressed, I suddenly feel self-conscious in just my underwear. Sensing my discomfort, she rises from the bed.

"I'll give you a moment to get dressed," she says before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

I spot my clothes, neatly folded on the bedside table, and a smile creeps across my face at the thoughtfulness of it all. Hannah must have taken her time to arrange them like that.

After getting dressed, I make my way downstairs and into the living room. Hannah is seated on the couch, a wine glass in hand, her gaze fixed on the wall ahead.

"I'm heading out now," I announce, catching her off guard. When she turns to look at me, I can see traces of tears in her eyes, and concern washes over me as I take a seat beside her. "What's wrong?" I ask, my voice laced with worry, but she turns away.

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it. I just really need you to leave," she responds, a hint of irritation seeping into her tone.

"Alright, I'll leave," I concede, sensing her need for space. "Just promise me you'll call or text if you need anything," I urge, but she remains silent, not even acknowledging my words. "Hannah?" I question cautiously.

"Yeah, fine. I promise. Just leave already," she snaps, and I understand that it's time for me to go. Though there's clearly something bothering her, I must respect her boundaries, and right now, she's making them abundantly clear.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I say before heading to the hallway to put on my shoes. As I step outside, I gently close the door behind me.

I release a sigh, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over me. Was it something I said or did? Did I push too hard? Or could there be something else bothering her that she's not sharing with me? I'm torn, unsure if leaving was the right decision, especially knowing she's been crying.

Lost in my thoughts, I make my way home, passing by the illuminated windows of houses. Inside, families gather for meals or engage in games together, while couples share stories about their day. Meanwhile, some individuals are alone, absorbed in their phones and enjoying takeout meals.

I get to my house and walk in. I had already told my parents that I'd be hanging out with a friend this afternoon, so I'm not worried about them wondering why I'm back late. In the kitchen, I find my mom cooking pasta. It seems like I've made it home just in time for dinner.