^ Sky in the outfit I describe 👇🏼 ^

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H o l l o w s   I n
T    I    M    E
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Currently Friday, currently freaking.

Today, I have to hop back into Academy life like nothing ever happened. I wouldn't be going to school, but I'd have to actually step out of the room. I had been cooped up in my room all day on Wednesday and Thursday, eating the takeout that Jameson ordered; this was a big jump for me.

It was eight in the morning and I was sat upright, staring at the door like a wide-eyed hare, as if someone was about to burst through it and attack me.

Jameson emerged from his room. I saw in the corner of my eye as he knelt by the side of my bed. Close. He was close.

"It won't be that bad." He reassured me.

"Coming from you," I responded, not taking my eyes off the door. "You've actually been here."

Jameson shook his head slightly. "You're forgetting that I haven't been back at the Academy for three months." He was right. I had forgotten that.

"Three months isn't the same as one whole year." I shot at him. "And you look the same. I don't." Referring to the fact that I looked like a walking skeleton.

"Are you sure I look the same?" He asked. He was trying to draw a response out of me. I stupidly turned my head to look at him. I frowned as I took in his features. He looked different, by a fine margin; nothing compared to mine. The bags under his eyes were deeper than I remembered. Stress lines more prominent than I remembered. His eyes duller than I remembered. And he had stubble.

I said nothing. I turned my attention back to the door and glared at it until it was the only thing that I could see. Jameson sighed and stood up, moving over to my cupboard. 

"What do you want to wear?" He asked me, opening up the doors.

The world came back into focus again. "Nothing in there fits me." I stated.

"How can you be sure?" He asked, his hand flitting across my clothes that were hung up.

I slipped out of my bed. "Because I look like this." I stood before him now, and he followed my hand to where I gestured to my thin frame. "Because my thighs are so skinny that I can wrap my fingers around them." I pulled up the oversized t-shirt, displaying my spindle legs, sporting baggy bottoms. I sighed, dropping the fabric. Jameson just stared at me.

"Move." I ordered. Jameson stepped away from my cupboard upon order. I could feel his eyes following me as I got the floor, pulling underwear out of the drawer and leaving it by my knobbly knees.

I bit my lip. I need a society-approved outfit that didn't make me look like the skinny freak I was. It was still technically summer but I didn't want to show my stick legs. So I chose the most tightest jeans I could, and, regretfully, a short sleeved white top, with scalloped edges that I hoped would distract from my lanky limbs.

I stood up, my clothes in hand. But Jameson wasn't in sight. Had this been fifteen year old me, I probably would've freaked. Oh no, Jameson's gone. Oh no, now I'm going to be killed. Oh no, is Jameson okay? Now, I honestly couldn't care less what the devil does with himself.

When in the bathroom, I decided to play it safe and have another shower. Greasy and deathly skinny. Hmm, no thanks.

When I had stepped out of the shower, the digital clock on the side of the mirror displayed the time as half eight. I changed. My top hung lower than it used to. It only exposed the smallest inch of my stomach. Yet I still felt uncomfortable. The jeans weren't too bad. Apparently, tight was the new baggy. But baggy looked good—sometimes.

I sighed, looking away from the mirror. I combed through my hair. I stopped abruptly when I heard the door to our dorm click open. I leaned against the bathroom door and heard Jameson's voice, along with a females. What is this? A social gathering? I twisted the door handle. I'm sorry, but if Jameson wants to invite one of his girl–

Jameson was laying a mat on the floor. Then he placed that same chair on top. Finally, he noticed my presence.

First, his eyes wandered across my body. Then they met my face. "Sky," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "I made an appointment with a hairdresser; I thought that your hair was giving you hard work.. and–and you said that you wanted your hair cut.. so.." He almost looked nervous.

He stood up. I glanced over at the hairdresser, who smiled politely at me. "You were right." I told him. And that's how, forty minutes later, I had hair that reached to the top of my bra, not to the top of my butt, and chopped with layers. I felt like a human, but only slightly—I still have to worry about my body, and my skin.

The hairdresser and Jameson stared at my hair. I rose an eyebrow at him.

"I've never seen you with hair so short before." He acknowledged, seeing my eyes on him.

I scoffed. "I've never seen you lack a compliment for me before." I shot back at him, swivelling around and leaving him standing on a mat full of dead hair that held too many living memories.

I stared at my hair in the mirror. I weaved my fingers through it. It would be easier to manage.

I picked up my concealer and got to work on the bruises that showed on my limbs. Once I looked less damaged, I took to work on my face. My face had changed—was the sudden realisation that hit me. My nose was, by a fraction, smaller. My face structure was more prominent too. But that was to be expected. I pulled out my makeup, and took to work trying to make myself look like a normal seventeen year old.

With one last stroke of my brush, I was done. And looking better than I have done since Wednesday. I didn't even need to go over the top with contour. Fancy that.

I walked out of the bathroom feeling as confident as I possibly could, and sat down on my bed to pull on my shoes.

"You look nice." And the devil is back.

I sighed. "You're only saying that because I snapped at you earlier." I didn't look at him as I tied my shoelaces.

"Maybe." He admitted. "Or maybe you really do look nice." Things like that made my heart flutter. If I was fifteen and stupid, that is. All that happened when he spoke was—nothing. A gust of wind could've knocked him out of the room and I wouldn't have noticed, or cared.

I stood up and brushed past him, my hand reaching for the door handle. Then I paused.

"You were going to do it then, weren't you?" Jameson spoke up from behind me. "You were actually going to pull open that door and face the world no matter what lies behind it."

I rolled my eyes. "Like fifteen year old Sky would've done?" I asked, twisting around to shoot him a pointed look. "Miss her?" Jameson frowned. Then his eyes did something.

They met my lips.

"Well," I spoke up. "You can't have her." I told him. Turning around so that I was facing the door again. But my hand wavered once more.

"Open the door." I ordered, not facing Jameson.

"It's not locked." Jameson informed me but opened the door nonetheless. I made him walk out first, whilst I nervously stood by the doorframe. Jameson turned to see me standing stiff, eyes darting around like I was avoiding a wolf.

"Nothing will change when you step outside of our room." Funny. It almost sounded like he was trying to reassure me.

"Yes. Yes it will." I counteracted.

"How?" He asked, but didn't move closer to me. Didn't outstretched his arm. Didn't grasp onto my hand. He was playing it safe, I realised. He noticed how I had been acting around him. He knew I didn't want him anywhere closer than one metre to me.

"Because as soon as I step out of this room, everyone will become aware of me. I'll have to explain things without actually explaining them. I don't want to talk." I admitted.

"You don't have to talk." Jameson assured me.

"Rubbish, I'll always have to talk. How else will I fight off the rumours?" Rumours. I'd experienced those knives when I was back home. "Rehab" they had said. "She needs rehab" is what they'll say now.

"You stay silent. I'll talk. I'll fight off the rumours." I frowned at his proposal.

He caused this. Yes, he should fight off the rumours that stem from it. But how can a heartless person act like they have a heart?

With one foot out the door, I managed to pull my whole self through the mirror that leads everywhere but to Wonderland.

Here goes nothing.
Here goes everything.

Then I started walking.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKY

23/08/2017

YOU 17 GO GET A CAR

wow Skyson was so great in this-

What did you just say

Why you still shipping skyson

Hoe it's over

Okay sorry

-Jameson (wouldn't we all just love that)

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Next update: Friyay
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN SPOILER:

Liked this?

Well, maybe you'll like chapter eighteen,

It's a present chapter.

Exciting things await you.

Here's what's in store:

Picked up on hints of something that happened in the past, but hasn't been explicitly spoken about?

More hints are coming.

Missed squad?

You'll be getting more than that ;)

Worried that the humour is only in the past chapters?

Now, what kind of author would I be if I deprived you of consistent humour throughout?

(a partypooper lmao)