Chapter Twenty

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^Bria in her outfit that I describe👇🏼^

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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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I stood outside my dorm room. But I wasn't looking at our door. I was looking at his door. Carter's door. If only he were still alive. If only the that jerk hadn't had killed him. If only he was my Guardian.

Laughter snapped me out of my thoughts and I swung around. My nutritionist was twirling her yellow wheat strands around her finger, before throwing them over her shoulder. The laugh had come from her, then I noticed a girl next to her. Bria.

She wore knee-high boots, with heels that would have me swaying around like a drunken sailor. But she strutted like she was straight out of a Victoria's Secret runway. She had the perfect figure. Clearly shown by her too-short dress, that still managed to look classy on her.

None of the two noticed me until they were about three metres away. My nutritionist eyed me, shifting her folders in her arms. Bria wasn't looking at me, but I felt like she knew that I was there. Why was she ignoring me? Some fifteen year olds, man.

They kept walking, and, at one point, I thought Bria was going to tag along to the session with my nutritionist. But she didn't. She took a swift turn, saying a polite goodbye to Wendy before pulling out a key. Her room was next to mine. But before. Not after. Not Carter's.

When I looked at her, she stared back, her lips pulled up into a sly smirk. Why was she acting shady? What had she done? An infinite amount of possibilities clouded my mind as I watched her find the lock without even looking at it. And then the door swung open.

I felt like I recognised him. But he wasn't looking at me.

"Where the hell have you been?" He nearly yelled. Bria jumped, her eyes ripping away from me, where they met the boy I thought I knew. She relaxed somewhat, leaning away from him, her body facing me so that I could see her eyes roll.

The boys tanned hand grasped onto her wrist and tugged her inside. Just before he shut the door, his eyes met mine. He froze.

"Sky?" That name again. People that say it must know me. That's how I knew that I'd met this boy before. But where?

He took a step forward. "You remember me right? I nearly attacked you when we found you.." he trailed off, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. I frowned.

"I'm Jonah." And then it came back. All of it. Or most. In little snippets across by vision, like most things did these days.

"Aren't you Jameson's 'weakling'? Sky, right?"

He was tanned, had brown hair and the same went for his walnut coloured eyes.

There were three other guys stood at the edge of the table.

"Well, where is he?" A blonde haired guy asked me from where he stood.

The guy next to me chuckled and whipped my back with his hand.

The guy next to me nodded then stuck his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Jonah,"

That was the first time that I had met Jameson's friends. That was also the first time that Jameson and I had shared a bed. Oh, how things change. Most of Jameson's friends had become irrelevant, whilst Harry became a rapist, and Jameson became—unforgivable. It's all lighthearted stuff, really.

"Jonah." His name fell from my lips and he smiled, ready to jump in and say something else, but my nutritionist interrupted him.

"Sky, come on in, or we'll be late for our meeting." My back was to her, so she didn't see my eye roll, which uncannily reminded me of Bria.

Jonah shot me a grin before he turned around and shut the door, but you could still hear the argument between the two unfolding. I wonder if they interact the way Jameson and I once had.

I turned around and followed my nutritionist into my room. Jameson was leant against his doorframe, like no trouble he had caused was worth worrying about.

"Where were you, Sky?" He asked, more concerned than angry. I was more angry than concerned.

"Outside." I told him, watching as he shifted before I sat down on my bed. Wendy pulled up the same chair as always and sat opposite me.

"Before we talk, I want to weigh you." Wendy announced and I felt the colour drain from my face. I hadn't been weighed in nearly two weeks. Have I gained weight? Am I the same weight? And then the final question that made me feel sick to my stomach. Have I lost weight?

I was already underweight the last time they had weighed me. If I weigh any less now, I'm practically skin and bones, and someone should probably prepare a funeral.

Wendy handed me the scales, nodding to my bathroom, "Go take off your clothes and weigh yourself," then she gave me a notebook, "write down your weight in here."

I trudged over to the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I placed the notebook on the marble counter and the scales on the floor. For a minute or so, I stared at the sinistrous scales. Then I stripped.

With just my underwear on, I turned the scales on and placed my left, then right, foot onto it. It flickered for a while. Then it showed me numbers.

I weighed five stone, thirteen pounds. Last time, I weighed six stone, four pounds.
I'm a walking loaf of bread.

I chewed on my lip so hard that it bled. I stood off the scale. Turned it off. Then turned it on. And I tried it again.
Five stone, thirteen pounds.

I stood off the scale.
Turned it off.
Turned it on.
Five stone, thirteen pounds.

And again.
Turned it off.
Turned it on.
Five stone, thirteen pounds.

And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.

Five stone, thirteen pounds.
Every.
Single.
Time.

By this point, I was pretty certain that I weighed five stone, thirteen pounds. Fat tears rolled down my skinny sculpted face. I looked in the mirror. My cheeks had sunken in. My lips were lines that bled. My eyes were capsules, containing every thread of hurt I'd experienced. I wasn't beautiful.

I pulled on my clothes as I tried to wipe away all signs of my tears. I wrote down my weight with reluctance, before picking the notebook and the scales up and shakily unlocking the door. I stood there for a few seconds, my hand wavering over the handle.

I turned it, peeking through the gap between the door and the door frame. My body trembled as I cowered back. I couldn't see Wendy. And Jameson wasn't leaning against his door frame like he was previously.

Wendy startled me, coming out from the left side of my room, seemingly from my window seat.

"Are you done?" She asked me. I gave her the scales first, then, wordlessly, I handed over a notebook that probably weighed what I did.

When she saw the number, she blinked. Then she started to gnaw on her lip. Just as I had. But she stopped after a while.

"Okay." Was the only thing she said. Then she made me sit down, and continued to ask her usual questions. What did you eat today? Did you add what I suggested into your diet? Are you eating the full three meals? Any snacks?

But nothing but bullshit slipped from my lips. The only thing on my mind was the number. Five stone, thirteen pounds. Imprinted on my skull.

When the hour was finally over, Jameson reappeared at his doorframe, and my nutritionist requested a moment of his time. That moment turned into ten minutes, which turned into another ten minutes after Jameson had pushed the door closed slightly, but leaving it ajar.

Finally, my nutritionist left. And Jameson stood by the door. He was staring at me. And he looked at me. He really looked at me. And I knew that the girl he had once loved was no longer there. He couldn't see her. I knew he couldn't. But that was okay. Because I couldn't see her either.

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is this a mystery/thriller or a sob story

(pun probably intended)

Sky is saddd
Makes everything sadddd

She a loaf of bread tho like that's something to be proud of

That's cool like if I were a loaf of bread I'd be white bread bc like not only is that my favourite but I'm also white so like it works

Join the bread campaign and tell me which bread you'd like to be

-wtf no

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Next update: Friyay
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE SPOILER:

Is..something..missing?

A past chapter..perhaps?

Well, Friday will be your lucky day.

In the last past chapter, we left Sky in a sorrowful mood.

After being told where Jameson was, she felt the urge to find him, but was struck by a feeling of intense loneliness.

Will she follow her search through?

Will she find him?

Will she be able to keep her friends and her secrets?

And, most importantly, what will be the consequences of her actions?

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