𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓

Three hours

It's been three hours since I had last seen August.

I had long past lost the inspiration to write, deciding rather to spend my time staring relentlessly at a clock hanging above the doorway of the library.

Each tick of the hands were beating continuously on inside my head as I willed the time to move faster.

I was beginning to become restlessly bored, along with a hollow feeling echoing through my chest, at least more than usual.

I don't think that I wanted to admit to myself that the feeling came from being away from August for so long.

Although my dignity was beginning to wear thin, I had enough left to continue to attempt to convince myself that he was nothing more than a friendly stranger to me. But I was beginning to lose that battle.

I let out a long sigh, finally becoming tired of staring at the clock as each second moved by.

Standing up from my position at one of the desks spread across the library, I made my way through the door, slowly beginning to shake out my limbs that had become stiff from sitting for so long.

I made my way through the large house, and onto the front porch.

Dusk had begun to fall, bright orange and pink from the setting sun washed the landscape around me in ethereal light.

I sucked in a comforting breath of the warm summer evening air, and made my way over to the porch swing.

I rocked back and forth slowly, simply content with enjoying watching the last of the daylight fade into darkness.

The sound of footsteps breaks me from my admiration of the sky.

Flickering my eyes over to the steps, I take in the hulking figure of Antonio.

"Heaven," he greets politely,walking over in my direction.

"Antonio," I smile back.

"I found this while I was...um... on a walk in the woods today," He spoke, handing me my cell phone, which I had barely even noticed that I had lost, "I figured that it must have belonged to you."

"Thank you," I said, "I must have lost it when I fell."

"August said that he would be back soon," Antonio said, August's name bringing me to attention, "He just had a few things to finish up."

And with that, Antonio made his way off the porch.

Why are all of these people so secretive?

I pushed my thoughts aside, deciding instead to focus on my phone, which now sat in my hand.

I check my notifications, and notice that I don't have any. No one called or texted to check up on me.

Should I call someone? My mom? Malia?

I decide on the latter, realizing that my mom would probably either ignore my call, or be too drunk to answer.

I scroll down my contact list, which happened to be quite short, and tap on Malia's name.

The phone rang quite a few times before it was finally picked up on the other end.

"Heaven!" Malia's voice shouted through the phone.

"Hey Malia," I respond.

"Girl, I was meaning to ask why you skipped out on the rest of the camping trip the other night," Malia said, "You missed a good time."

"Skipped out?" I asked, curious as to what she thought had happened to me.

"Yeah, when we woke up the next morning, we didn't see you. We all kinda figured that you went home at some point," she laughed.

Went home? My house wasn't anywhere in walking distance from our campsite. Were they all really that dim to not have thought that something might have happened to me? Maybe they just didn't care enough to think of that possibility.

"But girl, you totally missed it! It was so much fun," she kept babbling on, completely oblivious to what had truly happened to me.

I stood up as she continued to talk, making my way to the guest bedroom that I had been staying in.

I soon began to block out her mindless chatter, instead focusing on the fact that not one of my 'friends' had even considered to call or text me after I disappeared to check if I was okay. They all just assumed I was fine, and continued on as if I was never there.

I tuned back in to Malia.

"We totally need to hang out as a group again!" she screamed in a high-pitched voice, making me pull back from the phone to save my eardrums the pain.

"Yeah, totally," I mumbled numbly, "I have to go, but I'll talk to you later."

"Ok, bye!"

I hung up the phone, tossing it mindlessly onto the bedside table.

I felt a tight coil of rage build up inside me, twisting through my body.

My hands curled into fists, and I couldn't help but to have my thoughts completely overwhelm me.

Why don't they care about me? What did I do to make people ignore me? Why can't they see me drowning?

Soon, the pent up frustration is simply too much for my body to bear, as I soon begin to shake uncontrollably as angry tears slip down my face.

I needed to take my emotions out on something. At school when I felt like this, I would usually just get into a fight. But there's no one to fight here.

So the innocent mirror hanging on the wall became the victim of my tantrum.

My fist hits directly into the center of the mirror, shattering it to pieces instantly.

Pieces of glass fall everywhere, littering the floor with sharp fragments.

Once the adrenaline rush slowed down, I looked into the last few fragmented remains of the mirror, taking in my battered reflection.

I was conscious of the warm blood trickling down my hand, but the pain was numb, and the buzzing in my head was blocking out any of my intrusive thoughts.

I was completely numb.

That is, until I looked up and noticed a pair of golden eyes staring at me from the doorway.

I let the soft honey gaze fall over me, taking in every inch of me.

And suddenly I could feel again.