I tried to stop the tears from coming. But I knew they were still coming. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to be the one that got taken away from school and all of my friends for a year? Why did I have to be the one getting replaced?
Even Patricia and Fabian hate me now. My best friends hate me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around school and get dirty looks from everyone and not have anyone there to help you? I've broken down so many times this week alone. I know what I did probably wasn't the best thing, but I'm a teenage girl. We all make mistakes. And in my case, some bigger than others.
The whole class continued to stare at me. I couldn't take it anymore. And I ran. I ran away from all of my "friends" that wouldn't care what happened to me. I ran from Patricia, my used to be best friend. I ran from Fabian who I've loved since the day I came here. I ran from Nina who stole my life and became a better version of me. I ran from Mara and Alfie and Amber and Jerome and Eddie and everyone. I couldn't do it anymore.
I ended up back at the house after what seemed like was days. My head was throbbing and my throat was dry from sprinting back. As soon as I made it in the laundry room, I collapsed. Tears poured out of my eyes, and I let them take with them all of the bad emotions and hurt that had accumulated since I first returned to the house. What a sight I must be, sprawled out on a pile of dirty clothes that neither Trudy nor Vera had gotten to yet, and by blood red tear stained face and eyes.
I hugged my knees to my chest and leaned against the washer. Once again, I continued to cry. But this time, I realized all of the horrible things I had done trying to fit it. Writing the article about Nina's gran was probably the worst of them all. I wiped my face on my sleeve.
I heard a noise and I looked up. Nothing. I waited for a minute, and still, nothing. I don't know what I expected though. It's not like anyone would be coming to check on me to see if I was alright. I had driven my own friends away.
A lump formed in my throat. Slowly, I took out my phone. I had saved my pictures before I lost my old one, which I wish I hadn't since the picture Patricia took of me and Fabian was on there. The last part of my life that had ever been normal. It pained me to look at it. My breath caught. I hit options, and I saw the delete button. It was right there, staring right back at me. I moved my cursor up to it, and pressed OK. My phone beeped as the message flashed saying I had deleted the photo popped up.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time to try and start over.