The Scars She Hides

Part 7 - 5:00 pm Sharp

CHARLOTTE

Midterms were well on their way.

I had successfully passed my maths test, but only well enough to impress the teacher with my improving grades, and still have a convincing reason to continue my tutoring sessions with Holden.

With Holden's midterms going on as well, we had both put the proposal paper on the back burner in order to study. Well... I guess Holden was studying. I had developed the habit of dozing off while attempting to review my study guides.

I was hardly worried though. Repeating your Senior year meant retaking classes. I had already covered most of the material being taught. Back home I had been on track to graduate with perfectly average grades. So everything this time around was more like a drawn out review for finals.

My sleeping habits were still less than ideal. I had yet to find another note from my mysterious visitor, but the lack of new discoveries put me more on edge than anything. What was next? Why were they waiting? What were they waiting for?

The good ol' therapist had taken notice of my restlessness and general haggard appearance at the last few Friday sessions. He had strongly suggested I resume taking my sleep aids along with my regular medication- Which I had informed him I had stopped taking when school started. He didn't like that. 

They made the world... foggy. It was hard to think when I was taking them. Which I guess might have been the point of them, to stop me from overthinking and sending myself into a self destructive spiral.

Dr. Terry had informed my grandparents that I was no longer taking my medication as instructed, and that caused quite a fight on more than one weekend dinner. It would probably continue to be the cause of difficult dinner discusisons. I know they only wanted what was best for me, and they were right, I should be taking the medication. It helped me function and move on from what had happened.

But I didn't deserve it.

Not after what I did.

I deserve to suffer a little longer for what happened last year.

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Skipping tutoring with Holden, I avoided a very awkward "Well... I'll see you after the break..." conversation. How do you wish someone a happy Thanksgiving? Is that a thing reserved only for Christmas and New Years?

Fall break was officially here, and I was ready to get the hell out of Attebery Prep's dorms for the next week. My grandfather picked me up, welcomed me with a stiff, one-armed hug, and proceeded to drive me to his home in silence.

My heart warmed a bit at his awkwardness. I think he was so afraid of overstepping any boundaries of mine, or scaring me off, that he struggled to express his affection for me. When I had first greeted my grandparents at the airport, Grandpa had been the first of the two to wrap me a suffocating hug in an attempt to squeeze all my fears away.

Unfortunately, I struggled a bit when I had first arrived. Little things would trigger random bouts of ... craziness, for lack of a better word. While the little things had gone away-or I had gotten better at hiding them, some things were dug in deep, and I had a hard time ignoring them.

Physical contact was the main problem. And while I trusted and loved my grandparents completely... I couldn't help but tense up whenever they initiated contact with me. Hugging wasn't so bad, I could grin and bear it for their sake. They were the ones who offered to let me stay with them after mom had to leave, it was the least that I owed them. The thing that got me was hands. Grabbing. That feeling of not being able to escape.