Page 50 of Diamond Desire
“I’m more concerned about you being punished on my behalf.” Widow grabbed my arm, helping to drag me upright.
“Nah.”
His brows rose. “Nah?”
“That won’t happen. Trust me. You’re overthinking this shit.” I grabbed my phone, seeing a few notifications on my email that Raya had told me to look out for.
Widow sighed again. “But Sapphire-”
“But nothing. You’re going to give her a couple of weeks to sort her own shit out and heal. Then you’re going to tell her what you did because we both know she won’t hate you for it. She’ll understand.” I didn’t snap at him, but I almost did. Not because I was mad or anything but because my stomach really was growling, and I had no patience left to listen to anyone until I was fed.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we run.” I replied. “We grab our shit in the middle of the night, and we disappear.”
His brows rose higher, and I was sure they were in danger of falling off his dumb face. “You’d come on the run with me?”
“Only until there’s a reward for your capture, then I’d cash in on it.”
His lips twitched, but he fought the smile he wanted to give me as he slowly clambered to his feet, stretching out his limbs and giving me my full bed back.
“Fine, then. We can do your plan, and if it goes wrong, then I blame you.” He yawned. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright on your own? I swear it won’t take me long for me to grab us food, but I can wait for someone to come back before I go.”
My stomach continued rumbling and though I didn’t like being alone now, it seemed worth the risk. Plus, I was curious to read my emails, but I didn’t want to do it with Widow next to me.
“I’m sure. It’s fine. It takes like fifteen minutes for you to get there and back.” I waved him off and a moment later, I was alone.
I hated being alone. The second it happened, I felt a chill in the air and the undeniable sense of a crushing hopelessness wrapping around my throat, desperate to choke the life out of me. But like the mature person I was, I sat with my feelings. Going through each one until I could figure out the cause and how to solve them.
Jokes. I ignored them entirely, grabbed a bag of Widow’s candy from my table and opened up my phone, needing the doom scroll or something so I could numb my mind for ten minutes.
The email waiting for me had been the one Raya mentioned; a support group, the hospital ran with its sister hospitals across the country. It was for kids to be able to talk to other children going through shit, and to try to give up lots of tools to cope and whatever ever else. Basically, Raya had said that it was like therapy, but without the danger of me going to therapy in person, which I obviously couldn’t do right now.
I was very sceptical as I signed up and made an account, but not enough to stop me. Either morbid curiosity took me through the registration, or maybe it was the fact that I knew if I didn’t have a distraction whilst Widow was gone, I’d end up listening to the horrible thoughts in my brain and doing something stupid. Either way, I signed up, checked out the website with a cursory glance, and then found the little icon that offered me a new damaged friend to speak to. I had the option for both groups of people, or a one to one, and seeing as I wasn’t in the mood for multiple people, I chose the single one.
A circle icon whirled around the screen, buffering a moment as I found another broken little fool to pair me up with for a who’s trauma is the worst chat, or whatever it was the hospital was hoping to achieve. And though I was nervous, my hands a little shaky and my heart pounding with the need for distraction, all of that vanished for a second when the chat loaded, and I was greeted with a message from an internet stranger I instantly replied to.
ReignOrShine
Isn’t there a mentally stable Barbie you could cosplay? They have so many versions of her you could be anything you wanted to be.
BarbieGirlInASh*ttyWorld
I was about to open up with a terrible joke, but I guess you beat me to it
ReignOrShine
Feel free to tell me, anyway. I have nothing better to do right now.
For the life of me, I couldn’t work out why I was nervous. The whole point was for me to try to talk to other people like me, and work out ways to get better. And surely starting that meant I was already willing to heal? Or whatever bullshit my brain needed to know to stop replaying memories in my head until I swore I was going insane. Like if I was open to talking shit online with other damaged people, that had to mean I was basically fine already. So why the hell was I still feeling like crap.
It was so annoying.
BarbieGirlInASh*ttyWorld
Why? Do you not have hobbies? (what’s a penguins fave aunt called?)
ReignOrShine