Confide In Me| Paused

Chapter 4~ Hockey puck

♡Isabella

I head to the snack basket grab a box of Milk Duds and tuck it in my hoodie pocket, Opening the window I climb onto the roof as Amara comes up behind me.

She reaches the top sitting next to me. Putting on the black hoodie that's strewn across her shoulder.

I pull out the Milk Duds open the box and pour some out into my hand, then hand Amara the box. "Tell me what's wrong darling, I'm listening."

I say as I pop a few Duds into my mouth. I can sense that something has been bothering her.

I take her hand in mine rubbing my thumb across the back of her hand.

"Talk to me angel, in whatever way feels most comfortable, whether it be words or silence, let it out. I'm right here."

Amara has a way of communicating what she feels and she usually tries to keep it to herself until she needs to let it out.

She always needs an outlet at some point. I'm glad that she can let it out.

Unlike me, she notices when her body tells her that she's had enough. It's never occurred to me that I don't know how to listen to myself. I've always been on autopilot.

I've been accustomed to the familiarity of just ignoring what the voices in my head have to say. At some point, it gets agonizing to the point I don't want to be trapped in my head.

So I just ignored the fact that no one heard what I had to say. So I never listened to myself either. Never even had the time to comprehend the idea if I wanted to.

Amara lays her head on my shoulder sighing, "Why's it gotta be so hard Bella?"

I don't answer, allowing her to continue talking about what's been hurting her.

What if it's a "who"?

Ohh if it's a "who" imma swing so fast they won't see it coming.

No one hurts my best friend and gets away with it.

"I mean I know people out there are facing worse battles but that shouldn't mean that because mine are a little less intense it's inconvenient right?"

"Never sweetheart, your problems are just as important as anyone else's would be. Just because they aren't as intense in your eyes doesn't mean it's any less significant."

She gives me a small smile, "Their standards have always been high you know, with schooling and things.

I mean we don't write finals for three months from now but even thinking of it makes me want to throw up.

When they look at my grades I get a smile and a "well done", but the look.

Oh, the look in their eyes. It's never enough. "What happened in literature" they'd ask. I try my best Isabella.

I always do so. It's just never enough. Everything I do is never sufficient enough for my parents."

I wipe the tears rolling down her cheek. Amara's parents are supportive of us but they're always hard on Amara when it comes to academics and sports.

I kiss her head, signaling that I'm here to support her.

Even though I appreciate the affection. Amara's actions are always overanalyzed to the point she probably never feels what she does is enough.

"Your academic achievements are merely just one aspect of your identity my love, you never have to rely solely on it. Don't you dare, ever feel that it should determine your self-worth?"