I wake up at five in the morning with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something has happened here, I just don't know what. I step outside of Phoebe's room and walk in, she's asleep, her breathing rhythmic and easy, she looks like an angel. Her light brown hair is sprawled out behind her; it looks like she fell asleep while reading a book. I see a pink book in her hand; it's her diary. I have an urge to read it; I want to know how she's feeling about me, and why she ran away. I was so worried, and I know something strange happened last night, because Phoebe wasn't acting like herself. I turn away from Phoebe's room and enter Piper's. Piper looks worn out, older then usual, but she's also beautiful in a good natural way. Her eyes are closed tight and her arms crossed against her hard. I'm always worried about Piper, I worry about Phoebe, but I know when something's wrong with her. It's hard to know when something is wrong with Piper. She and I have something in common; we don't like to talk about our feelings. I like to hide mine, so other people will be protected, but I think she hides hers because she doesn't think anyone will listen. I just wish she would give me the chance to listen to her. I used to check her wrists every night to see if she cut herself, promising I would never let her do such a thing. For some reason, she hates herself, she has low self-esteem and it makes me cry for her. She's an amazing person, better than anyone I know, and she doesn't give herself credit for it. I wish she could just be her own person, instead of trying to please everyone. That's impossible. I myself have never tried to do that, ever since mom died, I found out the hard way, that you need to be tough to live life. You have to pretend you don't give a shit what people think, even if you really do.
I've learned to be tough over the years; even Phoebe said it once to me, that my heart's hardened. When she was younger, ten or eleven, she asked me why I never let anyone in. I looked at her admiringly, wishing I could love so easily, without fear of being hurt. I told her, I let her in my heart, her and Piper and Grams, and that was enough.
PhoebeIt's the weekend, and I am happy about it. Actually, I have mixed feeling about it. Part of me wants to leave the Manor, because I can't face Prue and Piper, but part of me doesn't want to go back to school, because I don't want to have to face Ryder. I wish I had never run away, I wish Prue and me never had fought. I feel like there's a thousand pound weight on my shoulder, getting heavier and heavier with each step. I really don't want it to crush me. Ryder's secret is a terrible thing. I don't know if I should call the police. I know I ultimately won't end up doing it, because some part of me is scared for Ryder and even of him. Mostly though, I'm scared of his father.
"Phoebe?" Prue lightly taps on my door.
"Yeah?" My voice sounds different to me, forced.
"Pheebs, lets talk." Prue enters my room and sits right on my bed. I bury my head in my pillows. "I know this whole thing has been tough on both of us." She lies down next to me so I can see her eyes too. "I've been really stressed lately…" She looks at me for an answer, like that was a question or something.
"It's understandable."
"I want you to know I'm there for you, no matter how busy I am." I know this is a lie. Soon, I'll muster up the courage to talk to her about Ryder and she'll be working, flipping her hand at me, shooing me away.
"Yeah."
"Do you want to tell me anything Pheebs, cause I swear I'll listen." She looks at me seriously, her eyes not blinking once. I have the urge to tell her, I want to so bad…
"No. Everything's fine." God, why did I do that?
"Phoebe," She looks hurt, I can see it in her eyes, but she blinks it away.
I want to cry into her shoulder so badly. "Prue, I'm okay."
She looks at me one last time, and I can see her mascara is running, "If you need to talk I'm down the hall." She closes the wooden door behind her, and like a vision I can almost see her lean against the door in her own room and cry.
The phone rings, and quickly I pick it up. I've been so paranoid lately.
"Hello?"
A rough voice says hi back, "Hi Phoebe."
"Ryder." And as soon as I know it, my voice becomes all breathy.
"Phoebe, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
"For what?" I know what, why did I have to ask that?
"I know what you saw last night."
"Oh, that." I sigh- almost too loudly into the phone.
"Look, did you tell anyone?" He says quickly.
"No."
"Good, please don't. Can you keep that promise to me?" He sounds worried.
"Yeah, of course Ryder."
"Thanks babe, I knew there was a reason I liked you. Listen, you wanna go out sometime?" He sounds like he's smiling now.
"Sure."
"Is Thursday night okay?"
"Yeah."
"Cool, I'll pick you up at eight."
"Cool."
"Bye babe."
"Bye Ryder." I hang up the phone, slowly.
I couldn't believe what I just said and heard. And now I definitely can't tell my sisters, it is a known fact now that Ryder doesn't want me to tell.
Piper
I sit on my bed, trying to muster up the courage to look in the mirror. I can't, somehow I feel guilty, for being me. I don't deserve to look in the mirror, who knows? I'll probably shatter it with one look. I've thrown up twice today, and I'm quite proud of myself, I still haven't gotten caught. Prue would kill me if she found out, but what she doesn't know is that it's for the best. She doesn't know that I have to disappear from this world, that this is the only way I can make people happy. I don't like this emptiness that I feel inside of me.
I lean back, and my hair falls around my face, I want it to smother me, leave me breathless so I never come back. I have to stop thinking of myself… I should be thinking of Phoebe of course. I should figure out what is wrong with her before I vanish into thin air, as I so want to.
I step outside of my room, and realize the air in there smells stale. The air in our hallway is sweet, and new, but I can tell it too has experienced sorrow. Phoebe and Prue's doors are shut securely. They are right next to each other, with Prue's bathroom in between. I can imagine them both crying on either side of the bathroom, not knowing how much the other one cares for them.
I don't know if I want to talk to either of them, I have a feeling that they might look at me once and figure out what I have been doing. Instead of knocking on their doors, and having a heart to heart chat, I go downstairs and look out the window. It's January, and in other places there must be snow. I wish we had snow, it seems like we are missing something crucial.