08 | parallel lines

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     SUCH AN UNGODLY HOUR, and Presley woke up with her head pounding like crazy, and her stomach painful from hyper acidity. Groaning out of extreme pain, she slips into her slippers and stumbles to her bathroom, turning on the faucet. Gripping the edges of the sink tightly, Presley chokes out her vomit, her hair sticking to her face.

     It was around 5:17 in the morning, and Presley felt like absolute shit. Looking up at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a mess, as her insides felt like they were going to burst. Reaching to her medicine cabinet, she retrieves her pills and takes them in one go, drowning it with a glass of water she leaves in her bathroom.

     Closing her eyes shut, Presley tries to regain her composure. Her migraines were getting worse and this definitely wasn't the first time. Sometimes it gets so painful, she couldn't manage to bear it and just collapse — sending her to America took almost two years to convince her parents.

     When she was young, Presley would randomly collapse out of nowhere, as she wasn't exactly strong health wise. It took a while for her parents to cope up with her health problems, the main reason why they settled on getting her home schooled. Despite that though, Presley's knowledge seemed to be completely fine.

      Letting out a soft groan, she steps out of her bathroom and plops down on the bed, and thought about telling Mr. Keating of her migraines. But decided against it anyway, and settled on staring up at the ceiling. Presley has never told anyone else about her headaches, apart from her parents. And she had no plan to, even in the future.

     Sighing, she stood up, grabbed a coat, and decided to wander the school grounds. She was sure no one would be awake yet, or at least, no one could bother her. She is greeted by the fresh air as the sun had just began to rose, a little over the horizon.

     Presley never knew how to live. She never knew how to live deliberately like how Neil told her to. It wasn't that she didn't want to join their small organization, its just that she's hesitant. Reluctant. What if she gets attached to them? What if they would leave a mark on her? What would happen then?

     Presley was greeted by Mr. McAllister, who had been strolling, like she did. Grimacing at the thought of interacting, she attempts to walk past him when he says, "You know, you remind me of my daughter."

     Stopping dead in her tracks, Presley is silent as she turns back to look at the aging man. He chuckles, approaching her and urging her to walk with him. "She is a feisty one, like you are. I don't know where she got that attitude but, it helps." He lets out another chuckle, his hands behind his back.

     "Where is she now?" Presley asks, deciding to play along. The last thing she needed was the faculty to hate her more for being so difficult, since they already do just because of her gender and age.

     "She's married now, with children." He muses. Presley is forced to nod with understanding. If she was honest, she never wanted to get married ever since she can remember, thinking about how being tied to men for the rest of her life was so boring.

     "That's nice." Was all she replied, without much enthusiasm. Mr. McAllister stops to a halt and turns to look at her, resulting in her to stop as well. A kind smile appears on his face as he looks at Presley, despite the girl having a blank expression on her face.

     "One day, you will understand." Mr. McAllister said. But that was just it, Presley already understood. Very clearly.

 Very clearly

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