^ couldn't be bothered to crop but here we have a hot Cassie ^

________________________________

H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
________________________________

07/01/17
Ten months ago

I sighed, drawing spiral after spiral after spiral in the notebook that my mother had given me to 'write down my thoughts in'. I had actually taken her advice, and for once it actually worked. I didn't force myself to write in it, I only wrote in it when the pressure on my heart became too much to bear—so I'd release the pressure by writing.

I wrote about many things. Myself, the Academy, Jameson, secrets that I keep or secrets that I think that others have kept from me. It's just one big notebook of sorrow and mystery. And, now, it's full of spirals.

These days I'm not too sure what I think. I miss my Academy life, but I've set up a nice life for me here, with Lexi and my parents. I just wasn't too sure how to write a 'I'm happy now' page, since all I have written in this book have been pages full of complete and absolute depression.

I'm not too sure what the spirals symbolise. Maybe the turning of events. Maybe the turning of my mind. No explanation seems to be good enough for me.

And then I began my first diary entry since the end of November, when my problem was that I didn't know how to ease myself back into my usual routines.

Diary entry 12: 07/01/17

Why is it that I'm just never good enough for anything or anyone?

Those who just don't understand would say that I'm attention seeking. Because I went through this traumatic experience and I'm not ready to move on, to lose all the pity and attention I've been getting.

Perhaps I am attention seeking. Perhaps I enjoyed my parents smothering concern and care for me, which was a change from their usual 'business-first' attitudes. Perhaps I enjoy the way people tread carefully around me; they try to understand my triggers and they are cautious when talking to me. Perhaps I enjoy the amount of help I have gotten lately, from teachers, and an in-school counselling system. Perhaps I enjoy that Lexi has forced herself as close to me as ever. She never lets me out of her sight.

Maybe, the concern, the assumed triggers, the counselling and Lexi's care should be meant for someone else. Since I was never kidnapped.

But maybe I do like it. Maybe it makes healing easier.

And then when it starts to slowly fade away, it aches. The healing slows, the hole in my heart deepens and the memories of my Academy life pierce even deeper into my brain.

So you think I'm attention seeking? Because I'm hurting? Because I'm hurting and no one cares anymore?

You expect too much of me. No one can heal that fast. No one can keep that many secrets and still be sane.

Why am I just not good enough for you?

"Sky!" I jumped, watching as a thick pen line marred my fresh work. "I hope you're awake, otherwise you'll be late to school!" My mum yelled next.

I sighed. I had more to say, but I signed the diary entry off anyway. Maybe that's all I needed to say, and the rest would just be a load of crap that I'd spew because I'm angry.

I put the lid back on the pen and threw it into my school bag, then I closed the notebook, crawled over to my cream sofa, and pushed it back into its hiding place.

As I was slipping my uniform on, I heard the bathroom door open down the hall. Alexi. My mother must have given her spare towels, because I don't remember Lexi bringing any, and since the spare bathroom isn't used, there would be no towels in it.

I wasn't too sure how it even worked out, but somehow my mum and Alexi had grown close. It was absurd, since my mum had always been skeptic about that 'wild girl, Alexi'. Now they're as thick as thieves, somehow.

Nonetheless, I ran my brush through my hair before giving myself the all-clear in the mirror before galloping down the stairs. I heard Lexi and my mother talking in the lounge, so I left them to it as I went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Just as reached for Lexi's favourite morning drink—orange juice—the girl herself emerged from the corridor.

"Seventeen, bitches!" Lexi yelled, sliding into the kitchen in her socks, holding a croissant and a roll of kitchen paper. I laughed at her as she ever-so-skilfully slid to a halt with an arm wave of finesse.

"Happy birthday." I smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

"Aw, you sap." She teased and I pulled away with a gasp.

"Would you rather I slap you round the head and demand that you pay rent?" I asked mockingly and Lexi burst out into laughter.

"Hey, you're the one who begged me to sleepover." She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And you're the one that said 'yes' without a moments thought." I responded, mirroring her stance as I too crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"Oh, it's on–"

"Morning, girls." I jumped at my mothers entry and Lexi spun around, her crossed arms coming loose as she took on a protective stance. My mum eyed us both as she put her work bag down on the side.

"Sam!" She yelled out to my dad, who responded with a zipping up of his business suitcase. "Where did you leave the wine this time?" She asked, never taking her eyes off us.

I rolled my eyes and threw a scrunched up receipt at my mum. She scrunched up her face as it hit her collarbone, then proceeded to fall to the floor.

She bent down to retrieve it from the floor, "Honey," she began as she unravelled the crumbled piece of paper, "you need to sta–" She paused as she read the receipt.

"What?" I asked, trying to lean over the countertop to peer at it, but my mother shifted so quick that I didn't even have enough time to make out which shop it was from.

I giggled. "Someone's been buying condoms again." I joked, but no one reacted. My mum usually throws a sharp glare at me for comments like that, and Alexi should've stifled a laugh. But no one did anything.

My mum appeared to read and reread the receipt over again, as if she couldn't understand what was written on it.

"Mum," I came out from behind the counter, intending to take the note and read it to her. "you probably need your glass–" My mother snatched the receipt away from my grasp and my arm was left hanging in mid-air. It fell to my side as I gazed between my mum, the receipt, and Alexi.

"Sam..." My mother trailed off. My dad grunted in response and my mum bit at her lip. My dad came down the stairs, pristine in a business suit with his briefcase in hand. He frowned, probably sensing that something was wrong.

He moved over to my mum and took the receipt from her hand, reading it and then freezing. He gulped. And then I knew something was wrong.

"Sky," he said. "I don't think that you should go to school today."

I frowned, watching my dad pass the receipt to Lexi before disappearing off into the corner with my mum, where they spoke in hushed but frantic voices.

"What does it say?" I asked Lexi.

She picked up a lighter off the side, where birthday candles also sat. Then she set the note alight.

"Does the date March the twenty-ninth mean anything to you?" Lexi asked, eyes narrowed at me as if I'd pull a lie on her. My parents stopped murmuring, and instead stared at the pair of us, as if Lexi wasn't allowed to ask that question.

I shook my head.

"Good." She said. "Then everything is good."

March the twenty-ninth.

________________________________

That date seems familiar 🤔

...

Lexiiiiiii ???

......

We have questions GET YO ASS HERE NOW

-NOOOOOOO

__________
Next update: Wednesday
__________

CHAPTER EIGHTY SPOILER:
(not long to go now!!)

A jolting start beckons a new mystery.

Jokes and cars follow this smoothly.

And then they lead to an unwanted conversation.

THE FINAL CHAPTER IS:
24 chapters away