"I found the key to my happiness, but I can't remember which door I locked it behind."
—#me (doesn't this sound like an Alice in Wonderland thing I'm so cool)
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H o l l o w s   I n
T    I    M    E
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When I had finished recalling the day I had been taken, right up until I had been knocked out, I was shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face. There were voices around me, but I don't know what they were saying.

Suddenly, someone reached out and touched me. I jumped up, out of my chair, and screamed.

"Don't touch me!" I screeched. Out of nowhere, I was grabbed. I screamed again. They didn't stop. Shouts echoed out around me and I fell backwards.

But I didn't hit the floor.

"Sky!" Someone was yelling. I crouched down, trying to protect myself from getting hurt.

"Sky!" They repeated.

Make it stop. Please make it stop.

"Please don't hurt me." I begged, sobs shaking my body.

It was all happening again.

Knives were being scraped against my skin. Punches were being thrown to my head.
I felt all of it.
All. Over. Again.

"Sky," I was being shaken, "It's okay, you're okay." I squeezed my eyes shut and tears fell. "No one's trying to hurt you." The voice said next.

I opened my eyes.

Light hit me first and I whimpered. Jameson was crouched over me, one palm on my left shoulder and another cupping my cheek. He was gazing into my eyes, and the concern I saw in his was drowning. I was still shaking, and hiccups thrashed my body around, but I had calmed down.

There were a lot of people surrounding me. Kate's face was next to Jameson's, her mothers a few inches behind her. Guardians were stood around the scene, as if I was a threat. Suddenly, it felt like everyone was getting closer. My breathing sped up, and I started to struggle for air.

Jameson noticed this. "Back up!" He called out, getting onto his knees, shifting so that he was on my side. And he started to run his fingers through my hair. If I ignored the fact that the action was being done by Jameson, it felt relaxing. Everyone backed up and I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths.

Soon, everything calmed, and I opened my eyes to see Kate holding a glass of water out in front of me. I took it and drank careful sips. Jameson hadn't stopped smoothing out my hair, his fingers getting lost in a jungle of blond. I couldn't gauge whether the action was more beneficial for Jameson, or for me. But, nonetheless, it had calmed me down.

Jameson's hand stopped, and he moved to face me. He stared at me for a few moments. "Are you okay?" He asked cautiously. I looked into his eyes. There was something about their determination and their softness that had me faltering. But I carried on through.

I nodded. Jameson reached up. I flinched. He froze. Then his hand moved again. This time, I braved it out, and realised he was only reaching up to wipe away my tears. His fingers grazed my cheekbone, and lingered a second longer on my temple than they needed to.

Kate stuck her hand out too abruptly and I jerked away, banging my head on the wall. I groaned and clutched it, listening to Kate apologise over and over. I dismissed it and grabbed onto her hand, latching onto her as she hauled me up.

When I was standing, I realised what a palaver I had created. Guardians were scattered all over the room, looking like they were ready to jump in at any moment. Miss Wright had pulled Jameson over to the side and they were discussing something intently, voices hushed. Jameson's eyes flitted over to mine every few seconds, and I knew instantly that they were talking about me.

Kate leaned over as she guided me out the room. "Probably talking about the weather." She murmured. Yeah, probably not.

When we were outside, she closed the door to her office behind her. Saying something about taking me back to my dorm. We walked in silence as I tried to gain back feeling in my heart.

When we reached the door, I realised that Kate was waiting for me to pull out a key. "I don't have one." I told her. She smiled.

"Well it's a good job I have this then." She remarked as she pulled a dorm key out of her suit pocket. I frowned.

Kate laughed as she stuck the key in the door, "Jameson is a well-acclaimed Guardian," The door clicked, "And rightly so," She added as she pushed the door open. "But it seems that some things," She gave me a pointed look, "or some people distract him." If she was trying to sound lighthearted, she failed—miserably.

Miserable. Misery.
Some hearts hold misery.

"Misery loves company." I spoke aloud and Kate frowned. I stepped into my dorm, my hand outstretched to Kate.

"Can I have our key back?" I asked, deadpanned. She stared.

"I'll just wait here but I'm sur–"

"Can I have our key back?" I demanded, hand trembling.

She looked at me. She really looked at me. And she gave the key back.

Keys are funny things. Some keys unlock doors. Others unlock secrets. Others unlock a brain full of nightmares. Now my brain is bursting at the seams. And it hurt. Everything hurt.

The door cracked open and Jameson stepped in. He stared at the scene in front of him. Kate by the door, stood up strong but her face displaying her hesitation. Me, about a metre away from Kate, still shaking, and holding our dorm key.

Kate broke the silence, "Jameson, can I have a word?" She asked with a matter or urgency in her tone. Jameson's eyes met mine for a split second. Then I saw how tight with worry they were.

"Don't worry," Kate spoke again, "it won't take long." She turned away from me and
held the door open, gesturing for Jameson to leave. Jameson stared at me as he retreated backwards out of the room and into the hallway, where he closed the door behind him.

When the door was shut, I let the reality hit me. All at once. I tried not to scream, knowing that that would only attract attention. Instead, I slapped a hand over my mouth as a sob fell. And then I wrecked my room. Flashes of an outburst that had erupted back home last year came back to me. I hadn't learnt from it. I just kept going as the flashes hit me. Over and over again. Over and over I threw pieces of my room—pieces of my old life—around.

I had thrown all of my toiletries around in a strop.

Everything in my room was a mess. And I stood and looked at it. It was a clear representation of my life. Messy. And broken. And incredibly hard to clear up.

I felt like throwing myself around when I had ran out of things to ransack, but the tears were still flowing freely.

I grabbed my dress from where it hung on Jameson's door, nearly ripping it into pieces as I pulled it off its hanger. I rushed into my room. But I couldn't do it.

I took to the floor again, pressing my back against the wall and breathing in and out.

I fell to the floor, dress in hands, and started to cry. People usually cry over a death, over a failure, over a stupid TV show—but I didn't cry because of a pain inflicted by someone else. I cried because I had lost myself. And I needed myself back.

My head throbbed, my cheeks were irritated with tears, and my eyes were swollen–

The door opened. Jameson stepped in just as I was about to rip my dress up. He rushed over. And then stopped. I could see it in his eyes. He was angry. He wanted to save my dress, but he also wanted to save me. Which would he choose?

"Do it." He said. I frowned, faltering slightly.

"What?" I whispered.

He held my stare. "Do it. Rip it up. It's not my dress." He continued on. I began to think he was bluffing. But when I grabbed the seams of my dress, widened the span of my arms, and prepared to destroy the gorgeous garment in my hands, I couldn't.

At first I thought I had no strength. But then I realised that my arms were locked. I was stopping myself. Because I'm still here. Somewhere inside, there's still that fifteen year old. That same fifteen year old that braved the arduous attacks, jumped into the deep end of a malicious mystery, made new friends and became a rock for them all, and lastly, fell in love.

And when I stared into Jameson's eyes. I knew that fifteen year old inside of me was still in love. I just didn't know how to unlock the gates and let her out.

"I can't do it." I crumpled, caving into myself and clutching the dress to my chest. Then I cried. And cried. And cried.

–but I knew that there was no worse feeling than the pain done on the heart.

Jameson wanted to save the dress, and he wanted to save me. He chose both. He saved both.

And I felt the wound shrivel up, cinching in. My heart hurt less. But I hadn't fixed him. To fix myself, I have to fix others. I don't understand.

But when I looked into his eyes, I knew that seeing me break down earlier had broken him too. And as he watched me healing now, that was his cure. I had fixed a part of him.

There's no amount of tissues nor any medicine for that kind of wound.

I didn't need the tissue or the medicine. I'm still brave. I'm still capable of jumping into a mystery. I still have my friends, and I can still be a support system for them. Jameson is still here.

But can I ever love him again?

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Well let's hope you bloody well can bc if not I'm not sure I have much to write about

Sky is so annoying like make up your mind

You and your stupid relationship can make or break my book stop being selfish

Shellfish

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Next update: Monday
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO:

After her aforementioned meltdown, Sky has enough time on her hands to think, heal, and to remember.

But what will she be remembering?

Will this lead to an advance in Sky and Jameson's relationship?

Or will Sky continue on her descent into the rabbit hole?