Chapter 33 - Every Time I Open Up, It Hurts

I drag my feet across the living room. The house is deadly silent.

Good. Having a fight near midnight had its advantages.

Number one, fewer people saw me crying. Tears and snot in public transportation do not in any way paint a pretty picture.

Number two, I’m sure my mom is used to it but I didn’t want her to see my puffy eyes and ask me further questions.

Number three, if Augustus saw me, he would probably beat the crap out of me for leaving in the first place. No, he’s not worried. He just doesn’t like knowing that I have freedom. And I’m really not in the mood for another confrontation today.

I don’t have much energy for anything else.

I crash into my bed and like a lovesick teenager, stare into my ceiling.

The molds and holes are somewhat comforting. I’ve seen them all throughout my life. The dampness of the room and the old house smell remind me of the times I’ve laid here on the same bed and promised myself so many things.