Copyright © MonMoncheese
All Rights Reserved
81 Published 01.10.2022

•••

ROSEANNE

Rolling to the side, I bury my face into the pillows hoping to fall asleep again.

I was tired.

And the pounding in my head did not make it any better.

But I could not fall back asleep despite the heaviness of my eyelids.

And if I didn't go to sleep now, I know I would regret it tomorrow morning.

It had taken a good 20 minutes to convince my parents to let me go to school tomorrow, they were hesitant on it, but to prove that I felt better, I ate all my meals despite the guilt inside me and I kept a small smile throughout the whole day.

Thankfully that had helped me prove a point until they finally gave in.

Rolling on my back, I stare at the ceiling above me, my face void of any expression.

Today had been a long day, longer than I expected.

I just wanted it to be over so that I could go back to school.

And back to who I was before him.

Everything would go back to normal, I just needed time.

I feel a shiver slide down my spine as I think back to my life before him.

It wasn't much different, but somehow, he, that boy managed to bring some happiness back into my life.

Feeling a slight pain growing inside my chest, I bring a palm over my heart.

I will be alright.

I still have Nathan.

He is all I need.

But despite saying those words to myself, they didn't feel right. It's almost as if I were lying to myself... but that couldn't be right.

He was one of the first friends I have had in a while, but he would forget me with time. His constant messages will become less frequent if I continue to not respond. It's only a matter of time before he grows tired of trying, and then before either one of us notices, everything will go back to the way we were before.

So why was I reading them?

If I wanted him to forget me, why was I reading his messages?

That was only making things worse for both of us.

But I could not stop.

I couldn't let go so easily.

Something always drew me back.

As if the idea of losing him would affect me more than I thought.

Sighing loudly, I turn to my side and bring my knees up close to my chest.

"What is happening?" I mumble into the silence of my room. "What is he doing to me?"

Why do I feel like I'm losing everything?

My words slowly disappear into the silence, and I'm left with the never-ending voice in my head.

It was always there, but sometimes their presence was louder than my voice.

You know it's for the better.

James would never actually befriend someone like you, Rose. And you know it.

But yet, you let yourself be foolish and naïve to think that someone like him would actually care about you.

Squinting my eyes shut, I try to block the voice.

But it was no use.

The words somehow echoed in my mind.

Oh Rose, it humours me how ridiculous you are.

You really should know better than that.

You really don't deserve to be related to your family.

I let out a shaky breath just as I hear those words.

"Don't listen to it." I mumble to myself. "Just tune it out." I keep repeating the same words over and over trying to block the voice, but the voice somehow gets louder.

You were a mistake.

Your parents should have stayed with Nathan. He is everything they wanted. They didn't need someone like you, Rose. But your brother just wanted a little sibling, someone to play with.

Little did he know that it would ruin his family.

You are just a hassle. Always giving your parents problems. And you know it's the truth, that's why you try to hide everything, because you know that you are only trouble. They never needed anything like that.

You should have never been born, Rose. Never.

"Stop!" I croak out. "Please, just stop." I feel my voice crack as I try to hold back the tears.

And you thought that boy truly cared about you. Poor boy, he doesn't realise what a mistake you are.

Covering my ears with both hands, I clench my jaw. The words getting louder by the second.

You should just disappear-

The sound of my phone makes the voice disappear just as a tear falls from my eye. I can feel the nonstop palpitations of my heart as I manage to calm down.

Removing my hands from my ears, I sit up on the bed and I use the back of my hand to wipe the tear that had fallen from my eye.

Taking a deep breath, I look straight at the moonlight's glow sipping from the curtains.

The voice is right...

I'm a mistake. I should just-

Before I even have the opportunity to keep thinking, my phone goes off again. The screen turns on, disturbing the darkness in my room.

Squinting at the brightness of my phone, I lick my dry lips and stretch an arm towards the nightstand on my right. Picking up the phone, I bring it down, but before I even have the chance to turn it on, another notification comes in and the phone lights up... showing me one name I wasn't expecting to see.

I can feel myself forget the voice in my head as new thoughts cloud my mind.

Tightening the hold on my phone, I turn it on. The screen quickly unlocking as my face comes in contact. As the home screen appears, I'm tempted to shut the phone off and put it away.

But I couldn't.

New Messages from Husband

09:47 p.m.

Princess, guess what?

As soon as I read the first message, my eyes soften at the name he calls me.

Bringing my eyes down, I continue to read his messages.

I'm at the place it all started, the place where you became my strange... and I became yours. But it's also the place where I ruined our friendship.

"Elven park." I mumble to myself and look away from the phone in my hands.

That's where it all started.

Him getting lost and texting the wrong person.

Everything started at that one place, and then everything began to change.

Taking a deep breath, I bring my eyes to the phone in my hand and continue reading the next messages.

I hate myself for keeping the truth from you, because in a sense I thought I was protecting you. But now I know that I made the wrong choice.

Perhaps things would have been different if I had chosen another approach, but it's a little too late for that.

Either way princess, I will always be right here for you. You can't get rid of me.

Not after what you make me feel.

My brows knit together as I reread the last two messages again, hoping that I read them wrong. However, when my eyes come in contact with the same words, I grow confused.

Not after what you make me feel.

What was that supposed to mean?

What did I make him feel?

As the screen begins to dim away, I'm left with the darkness in my room.

And without knowing, at the thought of his messages I eventually succumb into a deep sleep.

•••

Running the brush through my hair, I began pulling it into my hand twisting it into a ponytail. Grabbing a hair tie from the vanity, I tie it around my hair and push away the strands of hair that managed to escape.

Once I'm done, I look straight into the mirror. My reflection staring back at me, and I force a small smile on my lips.

"I can do this." I say out loud, trying to comfort myself.

Picking up my school bag from the floor, I put it over one shoulder as I walk back to the vanity to retrieve my phone.

With that, I look around my room making sure the I haven't forgotten anything. Once I am sure that I have everything I need, I head towards my door and pull it open.

The smell of butter immediately reaches my nose and I look down at myself. Toying with my lip, I feel a turmoil rise within me at the thought of food.

Should I eat with them?

If I didn't, then they would grow suspicious, and I have to let them think that I am feeling better.

Making up my mind, I raise my head and close to the door behind me. The smell of butter gets stronger while I make my way through the hallway, the stairs coming into view as I walk out of the corner. Holding the rail, I make my way down.

I could hear the conversations of my family as I descend from the stairs, and I quickly enter the kitchen.

Mom comes into view as she flips a pancake with the spatula and I make my way to her, hugging her from behind. "Hi, mom." I place my chin on her shoulder and she looks over at me. A smile taking over her face as her eyes come in contact with mine.

"Morning, sweetie. How do you feel?" She asks while I watch the pancake cook.

"I feel better. I just want to go to school."

"Hmm, I don't know if you are that excited about school or if you just want to get the day over with so that you can come back to watch your tv shows."

Laughing at her answer, I shake my head.

"Honey, go wash your hands and join your dad at the table." She says and I nod.

Unwrapping my hands from around her, I walk towards the sink. Turning the water on, I pour soap over my hands and begin to wash them as the water disappears down the drain. Putting them under the water, the soap washes away and I reach forward to turn the water off.

Using the white towel, I dry my hands and exit the kitchen.

Making a turn, I head into the dining room where I see dad sitting down with his iPad in front of him. Taking a bite of his food, I watch as his eyes skim at something on the device in front of him.

"Dad." I call out and his eyes snap up to mine. Walking over to his side, I lean down to kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey, darling. Did you have a good sleep?" He turns off his iPad and pushes it away as he turns to me.

"Yeah, I did." I lie through my teeth. I could feel the guilt creep up to me, but there was nothing else I could say. Setting my school bag down, I take a seat. Changing the topic, I flash him a smile with my teeth and his face softens.

"Were you working on something?" I point to the iPad that had now been moved aside. Taking a bite of a strawberry, he places his fork down, the metal clanking against the plate.

"Um," grabbing a napkin, he wipes the corner of his lips. "No, honey. I was catching up on my daily emails."

Just as he finishes speaking, mom walks into the dining room and places a plate of pancakes in front of me.

The sight makes my heart drop at the delicacy in front of me and I fist both hands under the table.

I can do this.

"Thanks, mom." I shoot a smile at her

"No problem, dear." She soon disappears back into the kitchen and I'm left with a stack of pancakes in front of me.

The pieces of butter start to melt due to the warmth of the pancakes and I watch as drops of the butter falls from the corners.

I can feel my stomach turn at the sight of it.

When did it become like this?

When did the thought of food made me sick?

I know how it tasted, how it smelled, and the happiness it brought me when I ate those dishes. But now, now I grow sick at the sight of it.

It didn't taste bad, it was the opposite, but my mind had taken over little by little until I had no control over my body.

Pinching myself, I snap out of my daze and pick up the knife and fork.

Holding them above the pancakes, I slowly bring them down and start cutting the pancakes into smaller pieces. My movements are precise as I cut down into the fluffiness of the pancakes and I can hear the clank of the knife meeting with the plate.

Once I'm done, I place down the silverware on top of a napkin. Grabbing the syrup, I begin to drizzle some over the pancakes.

It feels wrong.

Everything feels wrong.

Setting the syrup down, I grab my fork and stab a piece into the fork.

Parting my lips open, I take a bite of the pancake and start to chew.

Chewing a little more, I finally swallow the first bite.

A sense of relief falls on me, and I'm able to set my fork down.

Just as I do that, mom comes back with a small plate of fruits and another plate of pancakes on her other hand.

"Here is your fruit, honey." I watch as she sets down the fruit aside and my heart falls.

More?

Composing myself, I watch as she prepares her pancakes.

"Mom, where is Nathan?" I ask, hoping that he would come downstairs soon.

"Um," She starts as she passes the syrup to dad. "Your brother left early today, he was about to leave when the first stack of pancakes was ready, so I told him to come and eat. He left after eating breakfast."

My face falls at her words and I look down at my food.

Alright, Roseanne. Nathan is not here, so you must do this on you own.

Picking up the fork, I pick up another piece and place it inside my mouth.

I can do this.

As I continue eating in silent, my parents start talking about a dinner with some partners, every now and then asking me questions in the process.

I'm halfway done with my plate when I feel my stomach getting full. I wanted to stop eating, but my parents would frown at the half-eaten pancakes.

Taking a sip of my orange juice, I pick up my fork once more.

Grabbing a big piece of the pancake, I take a bite of it and just focus on chewing.

Do it for them.

Taking another bite, I feel stomach turn at the excess of food, but I don't pay attention to it.

I just keep eating.

I must have dozed off while eating because not too long after, I'm done.

My plate is clean.

There are some fruits still left in the other plate, but that was okay.

Grabbing a napkin, I wipe the corners of my mouth. Looking down at my uniform, I smooth it out, trying to see any sign of a stain.

When I'm done, I feel a huge relief off my shoulders.

"Mom, I'm done." I start as I stand up to get my plates. Dad and her stop talking, and mom looks down at my plate, a smile taking over her lips as the clean plate.

"Leave those there, sweetie. I will take care of the dishes." Dad nods to the plates I'm picking up and I stop.

"Are you sure?" I question.

"Yes, don't worry. Head on to school, Rose." Nodding, I place the plates back on the table. "Thanks, dad. Love you!"

Leaning down, I pick up my bag and grab my phone from the table.

Pushing the chair in, I place my hands over the edge. "Love you, mom. Thank you for breakfast, it was great."

As the smile on my mom's face gets bigger, I feel guiltier for lying.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm glad you liked it, Rose. Be safe on your way out." She nags and I drop my head to the side. "You know I will." I chuckle.

"Bye!" I wave at them as I begin to walk away from the dining room.

Disappearing into the corner, I continue walking into the living room.

Placing a hand over my stomach, I feel tears prickle my eyes as they threatened to fall, but I don't let them.

"No." I tell myself, blinking the tears away.

It's just for today, so don't cry. You can do it.

•••

Standing in front of the school doors, I feel the drumming of my heart going haywire. My hands fist my skirt as I gather the courage to go inside.

Once I walk inside those doors, my life would return to the way it was before I met him.

And I need it to go to the way it was before, but I couldn't help but feel afraid.

I grew used to getting through every day at school because of him, because something about him had the power to just make me forget about my reality, even if was just for a few hours.

But that was not the case anymore.

Shifting on my feet, I bite my lip in frustration.

You did it before, and you can do it again.

You will get through this just like you did before you met him.

With a deep breath, I let go of the skirt that had been fisted for the past few minutes, and I'm forced to smooth out the wrinkles on the sides.

With one hand on the strap over my shoulder, I stand straight and start walking. Pushing the door open, the warm climate soothes me from the chilly weather outside.

Stepping inside, my heart seems to speed up even more, but I ignore it.

There are students walking around, while others are leaning against their lockers as they talk to their friends. Making my way past all of them, I try to walk as fast as possible so that I can get to my locker.

I didn't want any of the people who usually bother me to catch a sight of me, because I knew that they would not miss the opportunity to walk up to me.

Making a few turns around the hallways, I sigh in relief just as my heart manages to calm down.

Removing the bag from my shoulder, I carry it in front of me as I begin to approach the gray locker. The lock dangles just as someone three lockers away shuts their own locker and I slowly make my way.

Standing in front of the gray metal, I kneel down slightly to place my bag on the polished floor beneath my feet. Turning to my locker, I reach forward and grab the lock. One hand holds it still, just as I use the other to twist the center.

Just as I twist it for the last time, it clicks and I bring the door open, my eyes darting at all of my books.

Everything was just as I had left it.

There was nothing special about the way my locker looks inside, but that day seemed so normal to me, never would I have expected to return to this same sight, just with a different feeling.

I stand still for a few seconds, simply absorbing the sight before me, my mind drifting to places it should not go to.

My body tunes everything around me, until its only me and my thoughts.

It's for the best.

"Is it really?" I find myself mumbling out loud and I draw my lips into a thin line once I realise what I just said.

But despite bringing my lips shut, the same words repeat in my mind.

Is it truly for the best?

Or is that what I want to belive?

The slam of another door shutting close startles me and I shake my head.

"Focus." I tell myself.

Letting go of the metal door, I pick up my bag from the floor and begin to rumble inside, taking out things that I didn't really need right now, and shoving books in.

Once my bag is filled with everything I need, I zip it close and place my hand flat against the cold metal and push it close.

Holding the bag over both of shoulders, I look around the hallway. A few students wait outside the art classroom that is a few yards away. They all look happy as they talk to each other and a small smile makes its way to my lips.

I wish I had that.

Looking away, I begin to walk away from my locker and find myself making my way up the stairs to my first class.

It doesn't dawn to me that my first class is History until I am only inches away from the door. My feet stop on their own, preventing me from walking any further towards the door.

History, one of the classes I have with him.

I feel a shudder at the thought of him being the first one to do something to me today, and suddenly I find myself backing away from the door.

I don't get too