AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

a    t   r   u   e     s   t   o   r  y  

CHAPTER SIX


I woke up in the morning feeling dull and empty inside. My stomach burned with
anxiety. After two hours of attempting sleep before it washed over me last night,
I still woke up three times for an hour each. And on top of that, my parents
told me that I had to go to school for the full day.
After hitting snooze five times, I finally dragged myself out of bed
and slid into the bathroom to look in the mirror.
After throwing on skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I decided that my hair
could go up, and I walked out the door to school.
In Spanish, I waited for Mark.
He slid into his seat and started his routine hello's,
gradually making his way to me, yet skipping right over.
Spanish was about half over when Mark finally turned to me and smiled
his big, toothey grin that I loved. My cheeks flushed
and I smiled back, trying to look casual, yet failing.

Third hour, speech, was much looked foward to. Mark didn't look at me at
all again, and I really wanted to see Kevin. He always looked so cheery
to see me, and it gave me hope.
I smiled and giggled to myself as he walked in, and he sat down next to
me and asked how my night was.
"It was alright," I said. "How was yours?"
"Fine, but I meant like...how are you feeling?"
"Oh...I'm alright." I lied.

I got home that day and slumped down onto the couch.
"How was your day?" my mom inquired, a little too nicely. She's always asked
how my day was, but she never sounded like she cared.
Now that I was back from the hospital, she's been wanting to talk a lot more,
and it made me feel way too uncomfortable. I hate talking about my feelings.
"It was great," I mumbled. Really, I had just gotten more work, and my teachers
expected me to get projects done in two day's time. It all stressed me out.
"Well that's good," my mom replied. I could tell she looked uncomfortable, too.

I spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, watching tv, looking forward
to going to bed. At 8:00 I finally decided that it was an appropriate
time to go upstairs. I ditched getting ready, way too unmotivated, and grabbed the
razorblade instead, and followed the previous night's ritual.