The teacher’s brow furrows slightly, but before he can ask anything else, I blurt out, “Actually, sir, would it be alright if I excused myself to use the restroom?”
The teacher nods in understanding, but I think I see a glimmer of worry in his eyes.
Ajax’s gaze lingers, but before he can press further, a hush falls over the classroom. I jolt in surprise as the teacher’s voice cuts through the quiet.
Desperate to avoid making eye contact with anyone, I quickly leave the classroom, keeping my eyes on the floor. My heart races in my chest as the weight of everything terrible falls on me, making every stride feel heavier than the one before.
Does the corridor seem longer than normal? It appears to go on forever in front of me.
My hands are trembling by the time I get to the bathroom. I quickly open the door and enter, closing it after me. I close my eyes, shakily exhale, and lean against the cool tiles.
It’s here, in the solitude of the bathroom, that I finally allow myself to release all my emotions. Because I swear, they have been swallowing me whole lately. It doesn’t take long for the tears to well up, spilling down my cheeks, unstoppable, as I sink to the floor.
My sisters are going to starve because of me.
The thought loops in my mind, relentless, and… cold.
My sisters are going to starve because of me.
Stupid. Useless.
I take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.
Each inhale is a desperate plea for composure. Each exhale feels like I’m falling apart all over again.
Just why does everything need to be so hard?
There are moments where I feel I can manage the responsibility given to me, and there are other moments, moments like these, where I’m not so sure. There are moments when all it really is, is a prison. I suppose it’s my fault when I’m the one that let it wrap its chains around me. But it had promised purpose, and it had promised forgiveness.
Maybe all it really did was deliver me a cell.
Glancing up at the mirror, my heart sinks as I catch a sight of my dishevelled appearance. I stare at my tear-streaked face, at the vulnerability and desperation etched into every line and curve. I stare at my green eyes that don’t seem so bright and vibrant anymore.
It’s a sight that fills me with disgust.
I straighten myself as much as I can, wiping away the tears. Ignoring the ache in my chest, I take one final deep breath fully knowing the decision I’m about to make might end absolutely horribly.
I square my shoulders and step away from the mirror.What’s the worst that could happen?
NINE
Rule Number Six ofAdeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness:Adeline, please—for the love of god—take care of your poor plant before it dies. Please. Please. It’s a slow process, but watching something small grow can remind you that change happens eventually. You’re growing too, even if it feels like you’re a little stuck sometimes.
The bell rings, suddenly snapping me back to reality. I hastily gather my belongings, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I weave through the chaos of students spilling into the hallways. My phone buzzes in my pocket, a lifeline in the noise.
Meet in the lunch hall, Bea’s text reads.
I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the screen. Lunch. The thought of eating, knowing what I’m about to do, makes my stomach churn. It’s not hunger; it’s something heavier. Something uglier. Reluctantly, I type back:I’ll be there soon, I just need to do something first.
I make my way through the hallway, footsteps echoing against the linoleum. My stomach growls again, louder this time, and I clench my jaw, willing it to stop. If only silencing the ache were that easy.
With trembling hands, I pull out my phone and text Sam:
Where’s your locker?
Her response comes almost immediately.Locker 36. Relief washes over me, fleeting but welcome. At least Sam will have something today.
Determination propels me forward as I navigate the crowded corridors, ignoring the pangs of hunger gnawing at my insides.
