Chapter. 2

The river water was in my lungs again, I opened my mouth to scream, to wake myself up from this death and suddenly my eyes flew open. I gasped, hearing something next to me ring and everything was so still. I groaned, taking deep breaths and my phone chirped, signaling I had missed a call. I sat up, my body tense from the nightmare and a wave of exhaustion hit me. I hadn't slept good all week, I just needed a couple more hours to-

"Goood morning!" Mags peaked her head in and then darted back out. I groaned, pulling the covers off to see I had slept in my clothes. Again. I grimaced and grabbed my towel, needing a shower desperately. I ignored her good mood humming and shut the bathroom door behind me, hopefully she didn't try to have a conversation with me again through the door. Last time it was about Bambi. I started the shower, looking at my drained face in the mirror. My eyeliner looked horrifying and my eyelashes were probably all going to fall off if I kept sleeping with my make-up on as well. I gently removed all of it off, my head bobbing from trying to keep it up. I said screw it and turned my shower into a bath. I shut off the bathroom light, so only the morning light crept in through the tinted window. I added a couple drops of lavender to the water and undressed. I touched my stomach, feeling the bumps along my skin and closed my eyes, sighing against the pain that drifted over my groggy mind. My other hand reached halfway up my back and touched the unevenness across my back. All of the marks on my body, all of them equally carrying the weight of my past. Half of me, no matter how illogical, hoped they go away with all the weight I lost. Like if they'd somehow melt back into my skin or melt away with the fat. I began to sob as I sat in the warm water, the essential oil no comfort. And to think I use to get upset over stretch marks. After a while of trying to block memories and silently crying, I gave in and drifted off again.

The pounding on the door made me jolt forward and I gasped, my hands shooting out of the water to protect myself. I looked around, a moment of perplexity made me forget where I was. The knocking continued and I sagged again the tub, remembering I was with my aunt.

"Yes?" I croaked, clearing my throat, sitting up and rubbing my face.

"Just making sure you were all right! Breakfast is ready when you are." Mags called and walked away. I groaned, standing up from the water and felt like I weighed a ton. I wrapped a towel around my body, quickly walking back into my bedroom and saw the bag of clothes sitting patiently in the middle of my floor. I sighed, knowing I had to sort through my dresser and decide what I was giving up to compensate for the new ones. I changed into old sweats and a tank top, going to work. It was a good distraction for the exhaust I felt. Maybe I would give in and take some of Mags sleeping medication. Insomnia was a family thing but I hated the thought of being medicated. I was suspicious of doctors, but maybe I needed to give in. I sorted through the clothes I had since sophomore year, knowing they were the first to go.

"Hey! I called my friend, did you still want to go see the puppies?" Mags poked her head in, looking at my numerous piles of clothing. She giggled and sat next to me. I sighed, trying to decide which piles to get rid of.

"Your mother use to hoard clothes like this too. The rest of us kids would always complain, thinking she was spoiled more. But it was just because she took care of her shit." She chuckled, picking up a pair of pants. She looked at the size and then back to me.

"Yeah, I know." I said before she could. "I got the Brunson body." I sighed for the second time. My aunt and mother had the Mecham's slimness, I always wished I inherited my mom's side of the family more than my birth father. They were on the shorter side, more thicker and strong. The Brunson's had the quick temper and rebel streaks, from what my mom told me. None of the passive-aggressive, avoiding-confrontation shit my mother's family possessed.

"They're beautiful people, Char. Be proud of your genes." She smiled at me and I blushed, looking back at my dresser.

"We can go see them, I wouldn't mind a break." I admitted, standing up. Mags clapped her hands, thrilled and skipped -literally- down the hall. I grabbed my heather grey cardigan, it was baggy and I had to roll up the sleeves so I didn't look like a five-year-old wearing her mom's clothing. I put on some Jesus-looking sandals and figured I looked decent. It was probably one of my aunt's kooky bar friends and I didn't need to look like I gave a crap if it was just puppies. I headed out in the living room, waiting for my aunt to finish brushing her teeth. She came out, her hair pulled back with mascara. I eyed her suspiciously and we went to the car. She drove, which meant I could pick the music. I pulled out my phone and the aux cord, and the car was engulfed in sweet melodic dubstep and alternative indie rock. My aunt gave me an odd look and I smiled back. She listened -a song by the Eden Project- and slowly nodded, deciding she liked it. The drive was longer than I expected and slowly my groggy mind drifted off again.

My brain was on fire. The rushing water that pulled my body underneath was nonexistent, my scrambling limbs or my blurred vision didn't matter. My brain was screaming at me, everything was utter panic. I felt like my mind was scrambled, the water rushing into me and devouring my being. Oxygen was stripped of my self, and my throat was caught in some device and my lungs were bursting to the brim with the water I sucked down. I didn't want this, somewhere in the back of my melting mind, my voice was yelling at me. You did this... You did this. I did this. I was barely aware of my own self, my thoughts and actions were pointless, nothing conscious existed. Except for the inferno blazing inside me, stuffing itself down my throat and into my lungs, filling up the thousand little tunnels and one-cell thick air sacks. And then suddenly it stopped. And I was frighteningly cold. Everything inside me was floating in the freezing void, I was confused. What had I done? I vaguely felt my body; all I knew is it was being caressed by darkness. My brain was no longer fighting, and after the fire, their was nothing left. I felt a throbbing inside my chest but where was it going? I was fading, my arms and legs were gone. Everything stopped floating. I was tumbling down under, I couldn't think about anything. It was so silent. And the pulsing inside me was almost out and I knew that was wrong. No matter though, I was nothing and everything was gone... I didn't know how death worked but I was pretty sure it wasn't this. I felt warmth, something on me and a vague sense of dreaming. My eyes peeled open and I saw blurred images and knew this was what a car in motion was like. What?

"Charlotte, wake up!" Sound hit me like a train and I sat up, looking around. My aunt's face was pinched together in panic that eased as I stared at her in confusion.

"We're driving, remember? To see puppies." She cleared her throat, taking a breath.

"Oh God... I'm sorry. I'm okay." I promised, rubbing my face. The nightmare faded away, back into my subconscious for a later time and I exhaled, my hands shaking.

"They've been getting worse lately. I think you might need to set an appointment up with Dr. Isaac..." She whispered, her tone darker as she talked to me, like coaxing a child to sleep.

"I dunno," I slurred, trying to focus. "Maybe. I'm just tired, that's all." I murmured. I saw my aunt press her lips together and I knew she was trying not to push me.

"You do what you have to do." She said, turning down a neighborhood. They were definitely upper class and I wondered what friend this was. I went to check my make-up and realized I wasn't wearing any. I grew uncomfortable, my appearance suddenly bothering me. Even though I knew it didn't matter, regardless of wealth, people were people and I had a general distaste for them all. She pulled over, parking behind a Cadillac. I took a breath, controlling my anxiety. Why did I always agree to her random ideas? I didn't even like dogs. We both got out of the car, my aunt eyed me worriedly and I ignored her. The house in front of us was less intimidating than the others, with a nice flower bed and a porch swing. Mags knocked on the door and my social anxiety rose. We heard footsteps and the unlocking of the door and my aunts face radiated excitement as the door opened. I was shocked to see a man, in his late thirties step outside and warmly embraced her. My eyebrows shot up, watching the two chat and the look of dazzle on my aunt's face. This was going to be interesting. As an after thought, my aunt turned towards me and gestured with her hand.

"Dustin, this is my niece Charlotte, I told you about her the other day." She beamed and I had a look of shock before I clumsily shook his hand and ignored the rattle of words he said to me. I smiled and nodded. She talked about me? Perplexed, he invited us in and the warmth from inside made me realize how cold I was. Inside, had a cabin feel to it. Very rustic and outdoors-y but tasteful. The floors were solid wood, the couches hunter green with a fur throw on top and on the walls and shelves were beautiful paintings of wildlife and the forest or porcelain figurines of wolves and elk. The floor plan was open, leaving no space between the living room and kitchen and the ceiling was high and domed. To the right were stained wooden stairs that traveled upwards; you could see the second floor from above the kitchen that made a balcony. Dustin had us follow him into the kitchen, offering snacks and drinks.

"So, this is your last year of high school I hear." He turned towards me, his grey-ish blue eyes looking at me with sincere curiosity. Damn you small talk.

"Er, yes is it. I'll be exited to get it over with." I said dryly, taking a sip of my bottled root beer.

He smiled at that, nodding. "The pressure on you kids nowadays is crazy. Do you know what you want to do afterwards?" He continued and I paused, my introverted brain focusing on my answer.

"It's a process." I mumbled and I was relieved when my aunt jumped in.

"I know the high school she's at has a day where the state colleges come and give presentations. Maybe that'll give her some perspective." She offered and smiled softly at me. I nodded, agreeing with that. Dustin talked about his senior year of high school, how he lost all of his "cool" friends for going into chemical engineering. Now he's making 80K plus a year and is debt free. I looked around his house, maybe expecting to see a girlfriend pop up but the cozy-manly look had no feminine touches at all. Mags eyed me suspiciously, seeing my eyes scan the house and I smiled at her sweetly.

"What high school? I know this area has quit a few." He chuckled, the sound warm and masculine.

"Berkley High." I responded and his eyes lit up again. He was very attractive, he looked like those men on whiskey commercials. Charming crows feet, trimmed facial hair, tussled push-backed hair and perfect teeth. Plus he seemed very sweet and genuine.

"Hey! I have a nephew going there. He's very smooth with the ladies," he winked and I colored. "You'll definitely know him, he'll go by Donnie." He smiled and I nodded, doubting it. If he looked anything like his uncle and was most likely popular with the ladies, then no thanks. My mind wondered to Nick but I slapped myself internally and focused on the conversation. I ended up sitting on a bar stool with my aunt and Dustin, listening to their discussions and would occasionally throw in my two cents and answer questions directed at me. I had no idea if my aunt told him about my social no-go or if he was honestly this open and talkative. Hell, I was starting to have sympathetic romantic feelings the longer I looked at my aunts swooning face. I would catch him staring at her a tad bit to long and I wondered how long they would stay "friends". Maybe that's why she tagged me along, so I could give my feedback on him later. I paid more attention to him as we talked, taking notes like a professional match-maker. I wondered how weird it would be if Mags got a boyfriend. Her time would be split between work or with him. Would he come over to our house too? I tried to imagine them cuddling underneath a blanket, watching Nexflix together. I couldn't imagine her with someone; I don't know, she seemed so content with being by herself. She did have her sad days though, where I would have to pretend I didn't hear her choking on her sobs in the other room. I would make her favorite cookies, to show her that I was sorry she was so sad. But we never talked about it, I never pushed her and she never pushed me. Loneliness was such a hollow thing and I suddenly wanted her to be with someone. Hopefully Dustin.

"Well, if you guys are ready, let's go upstairs and see these puppies!" Dustin exclaimed, he seemed more excited than we did. Mags jumped up, waiting for me to hop down -yes, hop- and head up the stairs. We passed the balcony and I looked over the railing, seeing the kitchen and living room perfectly. I followed them through the hall and I smiled, hearing tiny barks and yips from the door at the end of the hallway. Dustin caught my grin with a radiant smile back and I shyly looked away, waiting for the door to open. Mags squealed happily as they entered, I slowly came in eyeing the pups cautiously. They were adorable with different colorations and wagging tails. I wasn't a dog expert but they looked pitbull to me. I watched them swarm around Dustin and my aunt. Between the cuteness from the puppies and the hard shipping I was doing with Mags and her "friend", I felt like taking a picture. I reached for my phone and suddenly realized it was still at home, on my nightstand. I frowned, cussing myself out.

"What's wrong?" My aunt asked in a baby voice as she held a puppy up to her face. Unexpectedly, I felt pressure on my foot and I looked down, seeing a furry little thing biting at my sandal. I tsked and lightly pushed it over, itching it's belly with my toe.

"It's nothing. I just forgot my phone, that's all." I gave her a reassuring smile and itched the puppies ears and neck. He seemed content with me for the rest of the visit, even though his brother's and sister's got more attention from the other two, he enjoyed chilling with me. When it was silent and no one had a lot to say, I asked about the mother.

"She was hit by a damn truck, losing two of the puppies too. We were able to save these guys though. That one right there actually has some brain damage; he has depth perception issues along with mobility. Everything else seems fine." I looked down at him, unknowingly running my hand down his back. My heart broke a little, understanding what it meant to have something unrightfully striped of you.

"There's nothing wrong with being damaged." I murmured, my chest cavity growing heavy. My aunt eyed me, concerned and Dustin politely dismissed my odd comment. They talked about lighter things and I pulled away from the conversation, my thoughts swimming in darker waters.

"Char?" I shot my head up, looking over at my aunt with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry... what was the question?"

Dustin chuckled and looked at me more directly. "I was wondering how the job hunting was going." He repeated and I thought about it for a moment.

"It's uh, long process." I avoided getting application today, I knew my determination to find one to repay my aunt back for the clothes and gas I've wasted, should have increased but I had a rock-hard pit in my stomach every time I thought about it.

"Well, if your down with being covered in sweat and scrubbing toilets, my family owns a couple hotels in this area, if you'd be interested." He raised his eyebrow at me, like if he was tempting me with a lollipop. My aunt looked over at me cautiously, wondering how I would react to his offer. I was stubborn on finding a job that I wanted and several times before I had snapped at her for bringing home applications or someone's card. I didn't want to be viewed as incompetent or incapable to find a decent job. I took a breath and cooled my indignation. I politely shook my head and gave him a half-smile.

"I'll keep that in mind but I'm good." I said and he respectfully dropped the subject. I admitted the job did sound tempting, it would be a weekend job and it didn't call for a lot of interaction. Maybe I would take him up on the offer later.

We stayed in the room for another hour or so, occasionally the puppy at my side would wander off and I saw what Dustin meant earlier. He would easily trip over his own feet and run into objects. I prayed he would get better and find a home that loved and supported his needs. I didn't know when we were leaving but my aunt seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. I knew we weren't staying here all day but I admitted I was getting antsy. If I had known she had a thing for the guy I would have brought something to read. I got up, brushing off the puppy hair and my aunt looked up at me.

"I'm just heading downstairs for a drink, I'll be back." I gave her a wink and she looked at me, giving me a "what was that for?" look and shook her head at me. I wanted to tell her their was no need to be coy but I knew that would make Dustin ask questions. I shut the door behind me, hearing their voices and laughter muffle behind it. It felt weird being in someone else's house without them around but I knew they needed some space. Hopefully, he would make a move on her while I was "getting a drink" which meant awkwardly sitting in his living room with nothing to do.

I sighed and headed to the bottom level, once again taking in the pleasant outdoorsy-theme he had. I sat into the deep green couch, the material soft but the actual cushion was stiffer than anticipated. He didn't have a lot of people over to wear them in. Or they didn't stay long enough to do so. I looked around, spotting framed pictures from the mantel over the fireplace. Pausing, I slowly stood up, their smiles calling to be looked at. I walked over, holding my breath even though I knew he was upstairs hopefully making a move on my aunt. Odd thing to hope for. I shook my head and preceded, my lips immediately lifting as I gazed at them. He was obviously a family man. From the looks, it was huge too. Some were professionally taken, just with him and immediate family. Only boy with proud looking parents and mischievous looking sisters. Others were a massive glob of people, cousins, aunts, uncles, and the in-laws. Others were more special, random snaps of people -maybe some were friends- framed and intimate. Probably displayed without permission from some of the interesting facial expressions. I picked up two people, a definite constant throughout the groupings of photo's, a boy and a girl, obviously brother and sister from how much they looked a like. There was a steady amount of the pair, in chronical order they were placed from birth and -assuming- to present times. You could see the boy, as a chubby baby into childhood. His serious expressions while looking into the camera even as a child. The awkward gangly limbs of being a preteen, the bad attitude and acne markings on his forehead. Then puberty. He shot up two feet and gained muscle, a glint of confidence and mystery behind his intense blue eyes. The girl had similar progress, her personality definitely more outgoing though in comparison, her photo's coming more willing and her teeth perfect and bright. They couldn't be Dustin's though. I looked around, the house having no impression of two teenagers -maybe the boy in college now- and plus usually parents brag or at least bring up their children. And Mag's didn't say anything. I reached the end of the mantel, the last few photos were individual photos of him and a sister. Then it went him and the two kids, all grown up. Dustin had a strong arm around the boy's shoulder, holding the camera up and grinned like a fool, snow in the background with a scarf and a nice winter coat. The boy, a man at this point and full grown, wore a NEFF brand beanie, a dark plum color and the first ear-splitting smile I had seen in all the pictures. They could be father and son, the chiseled looks and dark hair, as well as the bond they had was unquestionable. Something pinched in my side, a twinge of pain and I turned away, refusing to look at the one with the girl and him.

I continued walking, looking at the wildlife paintings and figurines. I could see him as a hunter, all in camouflage with a gun in hand. I shivered away from the last part, not accustomed to being around weapons. I wondered if I could go upstairs, I listened intently, hoping to catch any giggling. A knock suddenly echoed into the silence and I jumped, my hand coming down hard on the end table next to me and I swore under my breath. The knock came again, more impatient and I heard footsteps from upstairs and a door opening, the puppy barks echoing. I pulled away, going into the kitchen, my aching hand having a nice size cut along the palm. I heard Dustin's voice, muttering something about being impolite and then he paused. I could feel his eyes on me as I put my hand under cold water.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice filling up the kitchen. I slowly nodded, swallowing my embarrassment. The knock pounded again and he hesitantly left.

"Good lord, Dustin! I almost had to bust this thing down. God." The person at the door swore, her footsteps loud and I hunched my back more, burying my face into the sink as far as it would go without looking like I was drinking from it.

"I told you to come over around dinner." Dustin sighed, lightly irritated. "I have guests." He added and I knew they were looking at me. Before I combusted of social pressure, I heard another set of familiar footsteps and relief flooded through me as my aunt gave a happy little greeting. I watched the stained water run off my hand and into the drain, listening to the introductions.

"This is my sister, Carmon. She, unfortunately, just lives right down the street from me." He said with a joke in his tone. Carmon did a mocking laugh and Mag introduced herself and then called into the kitchen, straightening my back.

"Come here and meet Dustin's lovely sister." I could feel Carmon's head swell from the compliment, her ego filling up the room. Dustin didn't seem so cocky, more confident -admittedly a tad bit charming- which I was relieved he didn't get. I awkwardly turned around, wondering what I could do about my bleeding hand. Everyone eyed me strangely and I was choked for words. After a pause my aunt cut in and walked over, her face perplexed with the running water and the fear stuck on my face.

"Oh my," her eyes widened, her maternal side peeping out and she examined my hand. "Dustin do you have a rag we can use and some band aids? the bigger ones." She took control and I didn't complain. The knot of anxiety unraveled and I breathed. I wasn't squirm-ish around blood, I think it was the stress of asking for help or showing weakness and the arrival of a stranger triggered more anxieties. My hand was instantly taken care of, I knew Dustin wanted to know what the hell had happened but my off-stand-ish behavior made him wait. I looked over at Carmon, she seemed uptight but oddly friendly at the same time. She obviously enjoyed getting under her older brother's skin. I looked back at all the family photo's. She was the one who always looked glamourous, an attractive male at the family gatherings. Definitely one of the younger ones.

"What's your name again?" she asked, searching my face like if she was taking it into memory. She had the same grey-blue eyes, maybe a tad brighter, or it was the perfect smoky make-up that made them more piercing. Her face was overall very beautiful, in that model sort of perfection. Tall, in pumps and a professional dress suit. I guessed lawyer, she had the air of the ladies at my grandparents law firm.

"I'm Charlotte, it's nice to meet you." I extended my hand and she shook it, almost caught off guard with my manners. She pulled back and walked away, wondering around the house.

"So where are the babies at?" She chirped after a moment, the spotlight falling on her again. She looked so excited, that friendliness peeking through. Dustin got up from the kitchen bar and I saw a hand linger on Mag's shoulder, excusing himself as he showed his younger sister upstairs, her hands clasped with joy. Mag's eyed me worriedly, talking before I could get a chance to tease her about the attractive Dustin.

"What happened baby?" She murmured, letting the affectionate name drop from her lips from worry. I looked down at my wrapped hand, the band aids taut against the throbbing cut. I admitted I was embarrassed to explain.

"I... hit it on that end table," I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat. "I jumped and got it on the corner when Carmon knocked." It felt weird using her name casually in a sentence when I didn't know her.

"Tsk," she muttered and gently patted it. "So accident prone. You just hurt your knee last week." She chuckled ruefully, her eyebrows still pulled together in concern. I half-laughed and shrugged. A shout rang out from upstairs and we both paused and gave each other wide eyed looks.

"What was that about?" I asked. It went quiet after that. Maybe she was naturally hot headed too. I couldn't cope with shouting, not after how long I put up with it back home. Not at me, but around me and in the rooms and outside. I wanted to go home. I was getting antsy. Should I ask her if we can leave? I asked myself worriedly, twisting the ring on my finger. I looked over at her, wondering if I could sense any impatience or if I was just projecting my feelings and over searching things. I could talk about Dustin now that we got my hand out of the way. But if I get her in the car, she would be more vulnerable. I felt like a snake waiting to strike. I shook my head, my eyes falling on the mantel.

"He sure does have a big family. Is photography a hobby for him?" I asked, coaxing her to talk about him. She didn't need to think and automatically responded.

"In a way, he's always snapping pictures. He'll take them of nature and people especially," she looked at the mantel. "He loves his family and that's probably just favorites. I bet he has a box full of them underneath his bed."

"Sweet, that's a good thing. No wife or kids of his own?" I inquired. Her face fell the slightest, her eyes going back in time. Why did she never mention him before to me? Granted, she never invited a lot of people over to begin with but I had gotten good at remembering names. She never mentioned a Dustin before.

"He was married. She died in an accident a few years ago. He moved and built this place afterwards." She explained shortly and I saw the compassion she had for him. I wonder if she saw the way he looked at her. And vice versa.

"It's a lovely home." I commented, feeling melancholy at what she said about the death of a wife and then building a house to somehow live without her. That certainly put a brake on things. I looked over at my aunt, seeing her content in his house and her face was still in another place in time.

"How long have you guys been friends?" Friends, I scoffed internally. I was going to be surprised if they didn't have some sort of romantic history. She thought about it, holding up her fingers to count.

"Let's see. I met him in college..." she muttered to herself. College! she didn't see the shock on my face because she was so lost in thought. Damn her and her technicalities. Voices echoed above us and footsteps followed. It distracted her and she got up, wondering over to the bottom of the steps. I didn't even have to know Dustin was right there, the look on her face said it all.

"What did you think?" He asked her, his sister plopping down on the couch, taking off her heels and putting them orderly against the couch's side. She was staying for a longer visit. I really hoped that didn't involve us. I was worried about that shout we had heard. Dustin seemed relaxed and Carmon made no point of leaving. I wondered why they needed introductions. No way were they friends since college and this was the first time meeting his sister. I admitted I was curious, I wanted to know why she made Dustin unintentionally secretive. My aunt was naturally a private person, I knew very little about her life. She wasn't one to reminisce and tell stories. I knew that was probably a reflex, a habit from being on her own for so long. But I knew deep down that was getting to her. She wanted a partner, someone to commit to. She was successful and independent. She didn't need a man but that was the very reason why she did. Mag's wasn't dying for attention or love. But it made her all the more deserving of it. I decided in that moment I was going to get her a man -Dustin at the top of that list- and made it concrete.

"Hmm, they sure were cute," Mags responded but her focus turned to me. Of course she wanted one. "What do you think, Char?" she asked, using her poker face so I wouldn't see the hope in her eyes and become biased.

I nonchalantly shrugged and then thought of something. "I dunno. Maybe we could come back and visit them again? I'm still pretty indecisive." Would she call my bluff? I may have issues, but making up my mind on things was not one of them. I rarely had to double think on anything. Moving here on an impromptu thought was prof of that. I didn't hesitate, unless their would be extreme complications, I made up my mind in a quick manner. I didn't want a puppy, that required time and dedication. Mostly on my part, Mags worked to much and she would only want it for the cuddles and affection (she soon would get that from something more closely DNA related) and I would have to end up training the damn thing. Also, it would be alone during the day. You couldn't do that to a puppy. I tried my best to look torn and Mags slowly bought it.

"Would it be okay if we came over again?" She asked and Dustin immediately nodded, leaning in.

"Don't hesitate. I enjoy the company." He gave his blazing grin to my aunt and I did cheer claps and jazz hands inside my head. I thought I saw my aunt looked stunned for a moment before she regained composure.

"Great. I'll call you," she looked down, adjusting her purse before gesturing for me to come over. "We have to get going." I basically speed walked over, standing by the door. We said our goodbyes, I gave him a shy smile and a half wave to Carmon who smiled at us and waved back. I strangely liked her. I always was drawn to more independent woman. Whether it was because I saw my old self in them or it was something I lacked in my own mother. We walked outside, the sun swelling behind the light clouds and barely-there sprinkle. I drove going home, my aunt lost in thought. I wanted to ask her more about Dustin but I had to keep myself cool. Do nothing that was unlike me. My thoughts wondered to Nick - thinking of things that were unlike me- like flirting and talking. I hated the tightness I got in my stomach and the smile on my face when I thought about him. I touched the spot on my temple, the pain hardly there unless I thought about it, remembering the shoe thing. I grew more worried, thinking about the cramped hallways and unfamiliar faces reuniting with other unfamiliar faces. I would be the odd one out, looking around with a daze on my face and trying not to get in the way of the original clicks and groups. I think I could cope with being the only one alone at the lunch tables and having my nose in a book. But being the center of attention... every new kid, regardless of the size of school, was always called to attention in the hallways and classrooms. We reeked awkwardness and that step behind everyone else, our eyes scanning the school map and the neon sign on our backs saying, "I'm cute and friendly... please don't eat me" made us beyond obvious. It was the people themselves and the spotlight being put on me for the first few weeks that made me nauseous. I let out an unintentional sigh, my stomach turning. Between schoolwork and trying not to die from social anxiety, I didn't have time to be daydreaming about a boy. A boy -this realization hitting me like a tidal wave- who was apart of the cool kids. He was one of the kids playing hacky-sack, trying to boost his ego in anyway possible. I remembered walking past that group, seeing the tight involvement between them, the superior's of the school. Ridiculous but true. I never had a chance with him. Even if he did defy the popular stereotype, only in books and movies did someone leave all of their friends to be with the wierdo. He would be polite, acknowledge me in the halls but soon after I would just be a girl who got a shoe chucked at her face by accident. It surprisingly stung how he left me when that happened, my aunt coming to my rescue and saving me from further embarrassment.
I pulled in, seeing our quaint middle-class home and tension that I hadn't realized was inside me suddenly loosened. I sighed, both of us walking in, the house quiet and comfortable. Mags plopped down on the leather couch, reaching for the remote to turn on Nexflix. I was taken off guard from her silence. Was it Dustin? She turned on Friends and before I ended up binge watching three seasons, I went to my room. I figured she needed some space with whatever thoughts she was wrestling. I entered my room, seeing my phone blink with notifications. I groaned, sitting on my bed and squeezed my eyes shut. I could just imagine ten texts from my mother, threatening me to drag my ass back home herself so she could personally beat it. I opened one eye, looking at my screen and found only two messages. One from my grandmother, asking me about how I was doing and the other one saying I was due for an upgrade.

"Huh." I muttered, relieved I didn't have to report back to my mother. I looked at my floor, seeing the somewhat-sorted piles of clothes. I usually didn't procrastinate, especially with a mess, but I had lost the dedication. I pulled opened my laptop, checking my email. None from my Aunt Cecil -my mother's sister- or my Uncle Shawn, her dorky husband. They were the only two out of the family I really enjoyed being around, during family get-togethers and holidays, I mostly stuck with them. She was the closest thing I had to a sibling, being the youngest out of my mothers siblings, she kind of got away from the pressure to go into the family business of law or anything else that was equally as professional and high-key. I thought it'd be great if they came up with Mom for Thanksgiving, getting away from all that noise, but I had no idea how the sister-relationship was between Mags and Cecil. Cecil must have been just a kid when Mags -the oldest- left and I wondered how she would react if I asked. I didn't know much about Mags past, just the little comments and remarks from cousins and my grandparents. My mom kept her head bowed, not saying anything. Cecil and Shawn were to wasted at this point to add anything, if they knew anything at all.
I left my room hours later, heading into the kitchen. I recalled only having a soda and some crackers and cheese at Dustin's. My stomach gurgling as I opened the fridge and pulled out the Chinese food from yesterday. I popped mine in the oven on a cookie sheet, along with Mags, knowing she would be hungry. Out in the living room, my aunt was passed out on the couch with the TV long since being shut off. I took the bottle of wine and half full glass, putting it away. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, her slack lips slightly switching. Her wild hair had escaped from the hair tie, letting sections fall on the pillow and on her mouth. Cecil and her would get along, I knew it for sure. And my mother took some time to unthaw from her quiet and stingy shell. After that, she was golden. What had happened? She was so self-reliant, probably from moving out the moment she graduated. I never complained taking care of her, when she would stumble home from being at the bar with friends. It was the few times I could touch someone, taking off her shoes and feeling her warm skin underneath the make-up removing wipe I had. Letting her giraffe legs wobble and lean on me as I tucked her into bed. She always would be rambling off in Chinese, one of the few things I knew about her past. She had the opportunity to teach and paint over in China, living there for a few years. It always made me laugh; she was a fun drunk. It never clicked with her hungover mind the next morning that I let her drunk-self touch me, hugging on my body and grabbing my face and shaking it, and I never brought it up. It felt nice for some reason. Plus I got to care for her, showing through my actions how much she meant to me. I was so horrible with words, I could never let them come out the way I wanted.

I walked over to Mags poking her sleeping form with my finger. I was pretty sure she wasn't going to sleep at all tonight, taking such a long nap. She jumped, startled from being woken up, her eyes bloodshot. How much wine did she have? "Hey, I'm warming up leftovers, okay?" She focused her eyes, smiling at me and stretching. Good nap.

"Otay." She groaned, rolling on her back and sighed, blinking up at the ceiling.

"Were you tired or something?" I called from the kitchen, flipping over the egg rolls. The smell made me almost take it out and eat it half-way cold.

"Hmm," she grunted, thinking. I rolled my eyes and smiled. Of course she'd have to think if she was tired or not. "Yeah. I think Dustin naturally sucks my energy dry when I'm around him." She responded back, offering that lovely piece of information.

"Maybe it's his charming smile and contagious laugh?" I said, putting a heavy question mark at the end, straining the question.

"Meh," she sniffed, coming into the kitchen, pulling up her falling pants. "Maybe it was playing with the puppies."

I wanted to face-palm myself. "Ah I see." I murmured. Mags sat at the kitchen table, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers that were only there for decoration.

"Soo," she started. "What did you think of the puppies?" She chimed and I couldn't help but to offer a rueful smile, shaking my head. She had her heart set on a furry little creature, not a relationship with a guy. I shrugged, playing it as if-y.

"They were adorable but..." I let my shoulders drop again and she gave me a look.

"But?" she urged.

"But I just need to visit them again. I want to get to know them individually, ya know?" I poked my head back in the oven, hiding my face before she could see something was up. She grunted, letting the subject drop and I pulled out the Chinese.

"Yummy." I said, dishing it up greedily.

She looked at me surprised. "I'm glad you have a appetite. You'd think with all that running you do you'd be ravenous. I know I would." She scoffed and I set down the plates of food. She said thanks to me in Chinese -feeling it was appropriate- and we ate together. She would occasionally put in a couple words in between bites of food and I enjoyed the rambling. I wasn't one for talk, well, never really. And I think Mags enjoyed a good listener, it was better to hear her thoughts then to focus on mine. I was excited the food was settling and I told her we'd have to eat there again. The sun was dipping, shooting brilliant colors over the sky and I felt the need to run, to get lost in music and feel my feet slam against the back old paved road. I was to self-conscious to run down the main streets and around the neighborhood, feeling like I was being judged for the way my body jiggled when I ran or that I wasn't going fast enough. I put on some shorts -old sweats I cut off to save money- and an old bra with a suction tight sports bra over and finally a loose shirt. I braided my hair and put a exercising head band on. I came out with my running shoes -another gift from Mags- and tied them out in the living room. She came out with a glass, something umber sitting at the bottom and getting caught in the drooping sun. The rays hit her dark blue eyes, the intense red in her hair, her scattering of freckles over her fine face. A pain of jealousy hit me and I jumped up, looking away.

"I'll be back. Of course." I chuckled, grabbing my phone and headphones. She waved good-bye to me as I half-jogged down the street. I took a left and went deeper into the neighborhood, seeing familiarly styled houses and felt the burn in my calves and my lungs began to push against my diaphragm. It wasn't wise of me to go running on a full stomach, it made me tired and weighed me down. But I was dedicated to my schedule. I pushed forward, the determination hitting my body. I turned off, going down a street with thinning houses, empty fields growing and the trees increased. I soon was on the choppily paved road. I found out it looped past my aunt's house after five or so miles but I didn't feel comfortable going that far out. There had only been a couple bad days that made me so extreme, taking me past my comfort zone with sore feet and aching temples from crying. I remembered the first time it had happened, I had only been here for a month or so when my mother and I had our first yelling match since the incident.

"I don't like you being out there, Charlotte," her voice high and thin on the phone. "You're not fully understanding the anxieties it's giving me." She said, her tone darkening. I rolled my eyes, twisting my ring as I smashed the phone between my jaw and shoulder. I wasn't surprised by this argument, I felt the strain between us building since I first got on that plane. Her feelings of betrayal and fear of being by herself and letting me go from her suffocating motherly arms and cooing. Now the tension was at a crescendo, making my insides shake with anxiety.

"Mom, I love you but I'm trying to get rid of mine. It's better here."

Silence. Ouch. I flinched from the deafening sound.

"Better? I'm here all alone, missing my only baby, and you're on vacation? You're putting yourself into denial."

Something snapped at that last word. I understood my mother was selfish and overly-protective but she knew nothing of denial. To be put in a state of utter calmness and everything slow, like if I was watching myself from an alternative universe. Words spewed out of me, angry and knotted things from my chest. Some things weren't meant for her to hear. They were born the darkness in my mind and they slipped in with the river gushing out of me. After a point she quit interjecting, trying to keep up with so many emotions I was unintentionally projecting onto her and she stayed silent, sobbing on the other end of the phone.

"Don't come home," she said through a curtain of thick tears and shock. "I love you. But I can't help you here. Go get your aunt." Lost in my state of confusion and racing mind, I handed the phone off. I didn't know what they discussed but my aunt was deadly silent, as if she was taking orders from a hitman. She said "yes, I understand" occasionally before hanging up. Having my mother let me go like that was emotionally freeing. I loved her but I couldn't be there. Not in that house. I couldn't see her face every day in those hallways and the haunting memories.
The was just a hair-thin line across the lush mountains and trees when I came home, panting and flipping my shirt up against my face. My aunt had her nose in a book and I tilted my head while trying to catch my breath, trying to see the title.

"Hawksong?" I questioned, seeing a gorgeous male and female on the cover with a bird and a snake. She wasn't one for fantasy and it looked vaguely familiar.

"You'd love it. I got them the other day and I'm thoroughly enjoying it." She turned it over, eyeing the cover like she did a piece of art. "Well written and the conflict in the storyline isn't really used a lot, making original in a way." I took in her feedback, eyeing the faded pages and dog-eared corners.

"Used?"

"Yeah. Like ten bucks for the series."

I grunted, taking the title to memory so I wouldn't forget it when I was done with the one upstairs on the writing desk in my room. "I'm going to take a quick shower." I announced and grabbed my towel, jumping in. I scrubbed my body and hair, feeling relaxed after the run; de-stressed from exhaustion and weak muscles. My hair came in wet curls to the middle of my back, globs of it falling out. Honesty I didn't know how I wasn't bald yet. I used an apricot facial scrub, trying to get control of the few acne marks I had on my chin and forehead before school started. A part of me thought it pointless to worry about five red bumps on my face but the inner insecure and needed-to-be-liked high school-er was coming out of me and I wanted a good complexion. I looked down, looking at my skin and knew that wasn't ever going to be obtainable. I flinched, the thought of someone touching or even taking a glance of me naked was enough to make my jaw clench and almost scream out loud. The shame and disgust that were carried on each scar would weigh the size of a full-grown water buffalo, if those things could take a form. I got out of the shower, feeling my head fill with unsavory thoughts and skipped over to my room. I walked around the piles of clothes and pulled out a pair of fuzzy pajamas and a light long sleeved t-shirt. I picked up my book, settling into my bed and stayed in my room for the rest of the night.

"Charlotte," the voice was breathy, full of a building panic inside her chest. "Please. You need to wake up. This isn't real. Charlotte."
I felt his face inches from mine, his nails into me.
Yes, this was real. No. No. Stop it. Stop it. Get off me, I don't like it. I don't like it.
I don't want you, I hate you, I-

"I hate you! Let me go, let-" light filled my vision, the smell of rotting wood and cigarettes fading and warmth hit me. My mid-fighting body went slack and I let my eyes fully focus. My aunt quit saying my name, her face melting in relief.

"Shit," she allowed me to scramble off her lap and onto the other side of my bed. I pushed back my sweaty bangs and sticky t-shirt, breathing. "I thought you were never going to wake up, Char. That frightened me. At first I thought you were talking to me and then I switched on the lights and saw you were still sleeping," she groaned, the exhaustion in her face evident from her falling eyelids and weak lips. "You never fought back before, Char. They're getting more real, aren't they?" Her blue eyes were like stones looking into me, demanding an answer. I looked away, ashamed to admit I was shocked to see I wasn't covered in nail markings and didn't reek of smoke.

"Yes." The word was a rock falling out of my mouth, hitting the cold air.

She scooted closer to me, naturally wanted to reach out and comfort me but thankfully refrained. "I know you don't like to talk about these things, hun. But Dr. Isaac still asks how you're doing. He's very good, your mother refusing to get anything less than perfect for you." She smiled and I gave a half-hearted one back.

"She's always saying that." I laughed, the sound coming out as an hiccup. I toughened back up again and wiped away my tears with the sleeve, sighing.

"Maybe once school gets started, I could, uh, get an appointment in." I looked at my hands when I spoke, feeling weak that I wasn't coping anymore, like an invalid.

"Hey," she started and I looked up through gossamer eyes. "You're so brave. You want to get better, correct?"

That was the reason I was here; a change of scenery. I slowly nodded.

"Then keep pressing forward, baby. That's all you can do." She stared at me intently until I nodded again, feeling a little bit lighter.

"Get some sleep, think good thoughts." She squeezed my toes and stood up, wrapping her robe around her tighter and shut the light off. Second later the night light was on and I slipped back into the blankets, my half-dead brain passing out without another thought.