Sienna sneezed, her nose was pink and raw from cleaning it with tissues almost every few minutes. She soon fell asleep, after returning from London and surprisingly not getting bitched out by her father; she had developed a cold. She stayed in doors and avoided most people, not like she had many friends anyway. But the sun warmed her face and awoke her the next morning, the past few days had been quite terrible but she could breath and her nose didnât hurt anymore.
She got up, and gathered some fresh cloths before she took a shower. Her hair felt like a tangled mess but once she was out of the shower and had finished her normal grooming pattern, she felt like a new person. She felt her lips become a small smile that became larger. Bristol wasnât all that terrible and she was slowly growing as a person. She knew her anxiety would come back but she was learning to control it. She had her hair down, normally she put it in a ponytail but now she felt having it down would be nice.
Sienna put on a sports bra and some shorts, she stretched as she walked to her room and once she got there, she did a few jumping jacks. She continued to do some more stretches to limber up. This was so routine for her, it was as natural as breathing. Sienna snatched her small wallet, but not her keys. Her father had a hidden set just in case someone got locked out. So she left the house at a slow pace and once she was on the sidewalk, her pace picked up and she began to run through the streets of Bristol.
She knew it would happen. And to be sure, she weighted herself over ten times.Â
 ââââââ Itâs an error. It canât be.Â
Her bare foot brushed the cold vitrine of the small machine, and she had removed all of her attire to be more precise. They were freshly bought clothes, and maybe they were simply making her heavier. But it wasnât the case. Her worries accelerating her train of anxious wonders. Maybe the machineâs dying, and sheâs lying to her. Damn pathetic thing. The sentiment to embrace, then throw it against the wall frustrated her. As if she could even do it. She needed her instrument of torture. Her constant reminder of the fat growing inside her arteries, and muscles, everywhere. Her thighs had gotten worse.Â
Because when you stop growing, your weight system steadies, and you become bigger. Your hips are so easily monstrously wide that you canât pass door frames. And the adiposity on your bicep makes your weak members shake of over fattening. Thatâs not good, and she doesnât want to suffer because of that. So she employ an initiative of running down the blocks a few times, or even run all across the lovely town, so that she can get back to her normal poundage. Her legs are carrying almost nothing, yet, they feel so numb and almost dead.
Her eyes closed quickly, the pain was accentuating the acidity in her body, and her throat pinched, and it wasnât agreeable at all. But after that, she believed, she wouldnât have to worry about her appearance, and the constant fear would escape her non existent muscles.
 ââââ- Run, Cassie, run.
And she laughed out loud. Forrest Gump had always put her mood happier. She loved the vintage, and the hilarious quips, as well as half falling in love for the man. He was brave, and he could run so fast, and so long. Five minutes and she was exhausted.Â
But thinking about the fictitious character encouraged her course. That was when she slowly reached someone else. Maybe they could talk. That was a fantastic distraction. And something she was good at.
    ââââ âHello! Nice morning to run, yeah? Wow, I hate running, do you?â
Her hair tickled her as it bounced and brushed against her face. But as she picked up the pace, her muscles started to tingle, her hair blew back. The rush she was feeling was what most people felt when doing drugs, she assumed. Anytime she had drank, bad things happened. The warm air tickled her lightly tanned skin, she wished she had a band to tie up her hair. But she ignored the brunette trusses as they flowed back and forth behind her. She regretted not grabbing her headphones to listen to music. But she zoned out the sounds of the street, kids shouting and random guys cat calling. She was used to that, even though she didnât have a bodacious bosom or arse, she still had to deal with ooglers. (What she called perverted men.)
 A thin, almost dangerously thin blonde girl appeared next to her. She was moving quickly but she could hear the sharp breaths from the girl. She had a feeling the girl didnât stretch properly and then when she spoke she knew this girl was no runner like Sienna. âHello! Nice morning to run, yeah? Wow, I hate running, do you?â
"I well love it," Sienna answered in her thick Yorkshire accent. Some days she hated how she said words and the inner voice never helped. Always pushing her down mentally, tearing her down for little things she could never change. She could easily try to work on her dialect, but being in her early twenties didnât see the point. She licked her lips nervously and slowed down before she stopped. The girl looked a bit tired and Sienna didnât want to be rude.
"Sport is sort of me thing, I run and swim, I did play futbal with mates up north, but nothing serious," she said and knew she was rambling. Her hands had been rubbing together as she had spoke to the girl. âIâm Sienna, new to Bristol and well running away is something Iâm good at," she finished.
Sienna stood there, she could feel the adrenaline leaving her, but not without keeping the nice tingle before itâs departure. Sienna brushed her loose hair behind her ear and smiled, wondering why this girl had spoke with her. She doubted they would become jogging buddies.
Incredulously, her paper doll appendage continued its monotone course. Her feet dancing the same waltz piteously. The fugitive needed some meticulous action to offer the impression that she could actually control her actions, an inanimate vulnerability. Cassie was one to seem out of order, angularity in her every moves, she almost seemed retarded, the way her eyes widened when understanding a quip, or even solely wondering. Blinking a few times before claiming a riposte. However, she could manipulate anyone.
It was an easy process. Almost as facile as pretending to inaugurate fat in her febrile trachea. Her whole body would tremble at the idea. Or was it from the lack of essential nutriments? Anorexia caused important damages to the body. Weakened heart, decrepit structure, feeble muscles, and elongated fatigue. It was a prodigious act for her to be able to carry the few pounds consisting of her envelope. Maybe sheâd need another yet visit to the hospital, but she didnât want to be forced to get heavy. Pounds would kill her, and her appearance. Most people would say that your disorder wasnât you, but considering her whole existence was based around it, she firmly thought she was Anorexia herself.
It taught her many faculties, as being patient, perseverance, finishing what you started, and enduring pain. Doing efforts to get what you wanted, and also being polite to others. It was an act that needed intelligence and ingenuity, Cassie had learned so much with her restraining diet. She was almost thankful of it. Anorexia had pushed her personality to the best. Her body to its expensive quality.
ââââ- âAre you one of those religious sportive persons thatâll punch you in the face if you donât work out? Iâm better at laziness."
She listened, semi focused due to her turning head, and the whole being that was crumbling from the exercise.
âââââ- âOh. I see. Iâve never did any of those. Well, except in school. Yâknow, we were forced. But I liked Ultimate Frisbee."
The sweet was now cold to her tepid skin, a furious tempest of fever took over her, almost as if she was having the warmth in the debut of her period, yet, she didnât have them since the start of college. Her eyes widened.
âââââââ- âIâm Cassie. And weâre both good at the same thing. Lovely. I just came back from six years of being away, actually. You run a lot?"
âââââââââââ- âIts not good long-term."
"Iâm not religious and I would never punch someone for being different than me," she said meekly.
This blonde girl was strange, she looked like she could be broken by the wind. She was turning her head like a cat, wide eyed and bushy tailed came to Siennaâs head. She tried to not life and hide it was a bright smile. She wasnât sure why this girl was acting this way but she doubted the girl was mentally challenged. Maybe the girl was high on something, this town seemed to be full of burn outs.
"Never heard of Ultimate Frisbee, we only have a few sports up north, Futball, Rugby, Lacross, Cricket. No American sports, very prideful us northerners," she said with a giggle.
She had been reminded of her stubborn aunt who had been looking after her prior to the incident. The one that soon brought her to Bristol after her stay in the hospital. She pushed the thought aside, not wanting to relive the events. Sienna fixed her hair as Cassie spoke, softly and almost whimsical. Like a fairy, she even had fairy qualities. Bright blonde hair, tiny limbs and she expected rainbow wings to appear and the girl fly away.
"Six years? Where did you go? If that isnât too pushy? Also why did you come back? This girl Michelle I met, she seems to say this place is toxic," she said and sort of agreed. But Sienna had only been here a few weeks and she would probably open up to this Cassie girl. But maybe they wouldnât get along. Especially if the girl loved to do drugs, Sienna would have to make it clear she was straight edge.
"Well I run and swim because it, well" she sighed because she knew how lame it sounded. âInstead of getting high or drunk like some people, I do sport, and it works for me becauseâŚ" she needed to lie. âBad things happen when I get high, Iâm not me and I donât like it."
That wasnât a lie, for once she explained the truth without going into horrible details. She felt a smile appear, she felt like she was growing. Getting better. Her therapist would be proud of her. She realized that she shared a common link to Cassie, running away.
"Actually I also ran away, more recently and for less time, much less time," she was rambling, she could feel herself getting nervous. âI went to London andâŚ" she stopped. She didnât feel like giving her life story to this stranger, âIt was fantastic."
Cassie always sensed the commitment to put those reserved soul in a zone of comfort. After all, they sort of evolved in an extraordinaire version of themselves when they loosened up their barriers. Obviously, sometimes they regretted doing so when it the causality came from illicit, yet powerful substances. She bet there was something up with that runner, people donât run for fun. Itâs an escape.
ââââ- âWell, at least Iâm not getting hurt. Peace brings peace, right?"
Her breath became semi unbearable, disoriented, as if she were respiring by a straw, that now dwarfed alarmingly. But she wasnât one to abandon, when it came to weight, she had to continue until she reached her objective. She focused on the rhythm of feet kicking the air in a constant fight. Her heart pounding making the task severe.Â
ââââââââ âItâs basically soccer with a Frisbee. You have to throw it to three people, and then you can score a goal. If it touches the ground it goes to the adverse team. I kept the goal. Iâm tall, it was easy.
ââââ- âIâve never visited the North, how is it? I mean, it seems pretty grand."
In fact, it was the courser whom seemed grandiose, but obviously, she omitted to pronounce it that way. Sienna was attractive, thatâs for sure, she took care of her anatomy, by working out and sports, her hair seemed healthy, not like Cassieâs, poor and falling by moments. The lack of nutriments accentuated her fatigue and her need to get out of the spiraling eating disorder. Because as much as she had tried, it was a mental illness that she were incapable of over-passing on her own. New York had helped, though. It hadnât worsened. Instead of uncomprehending the girlâs situation, the blond succeeded at empathizing and understanding. She was better than her at something, at least. Retaining herself from screwing up her own life.
âââââ âOh! I went to New-York, the city of lights, yeah? Itâs⌠divine. I came back, well, because, Michelleâs ex, Tony, he convinced me that not everybody hated me. And it is toxic. Part of as why I didnât want to return. Bristol fucks you up, but in a way, if youâre not from here thereâs no danger. Bristol stick to the skin of itâs inhabitant, and follows them everywhere."
She laughed, the sound enfranchising the atmosphere in a simple ring of her vocal chords. Cassie didnât mean to be harsh. But sometimes she needed to, because people thought she couldnât be vicious and basically worse than Bristol itself. Â Â
ââââ âOh, I get it. Youâre not a good drunk. Nor a good stoner. Gets emotional? I knew some guy, and each time he drank he needed to cuddle someone while crying about all his problems. It was rather funny because nobody took care of him. Well, there was still me, but Iâve only seen him once."
Cassieâs smile widened, the runner made her forget about the awfulness of jogging their way to nowhere particularly.Â
âââ âHow much? People say that itâs the intent that counts, yeah? Anyways, I bet it was. Londonâs beautiful, people are great, and itâs nice. Why did you come back? If you feel like telling, obviously."Â
As she listened to Cassie, she was not moving as fast as she wanted. But she wasnât going to be rude about it. So instead of forcing this girl o continue to run, she stopped and engaged in the conversation. She wasnât very good at lying but she could drop a few lies without showing any tells. But she didnât want to start any relationship even if this wasnât going to be a friendship; with lies. Sienna fixed her hair, she really wished she had grabbed a hair tie. Cassie seemed to be talking more and she could tell she wasnât as ditsy as she lead Sienna to believe.
"The north is nice, I lived in Yorkshire with me aunt for years, my dad had moved and I didnât want to start in a new school. But after graduation, well things changed and eventually I came here." Sienna said and didnât want to go into it more. Sienna motion to a bench and walked over.
The warm air was tickling her skin as she walked, the sweat that had beaded up was making the breeze much cooler than it actually was. Once her buttocks touched the hot wood bench, she made sure her bare legs didnât touch it. No need to be burned, she thought. Her fingers playfully tapped away at the bench and she changed topics. Not wanting to divulge into her past.
"London was," she said and had to collect her thoughts. It wasnât a long awkward silence between them as she thought about what to say. âVery hectic, not really used to that sort of thing," she said. Cassie probably thought Sienna was some backwoods country bumpkin. An unintelligent boob, slack jawed yokle or other slurs against people who come from farm heavy towns.
"Iâm more interested in New York, how are the Colonies? Iâve never really left the United Kingdoms," she said, she had been to Scotland and Wales but that was nothing compared to New York. Sienna pictured the skyscrapers, ones she had seen in American tv shows. Ones that she could barely fathom. London was a huge city but it probably was nothing like New York.
She felt guilty for not really answering Cassieâs question. Why had she come back? She could have stayed but soon realized that it wouldnât have been good for her. She had no job, no money and no place to stay. She had not thought it all out when she had run away with that girl she had just met. The one she had spilled her guts to on the bus ride from Bristol. So she knew why she didnât stay but she wished she had. A small piece of her would never be satisfied here in Bristol.
"I didnât want to be homeless in a big city, so I came back with my tail betwixt my legs," she said softly.
Sienna wiped the sweat from her brow, hardly noticing it was there until she had stopped moving. Not moving was making her much hotter than running around. But Cassie looked too fragile to be doing so much running. Not that she was in bad shape but she didnât have a runners body. Sienna leaned forward and tilted her head.
"Why did you think everyone hated you?" she asked.
The sight of them ceasing the stimulating exercise pushed Cassie to exhale a coughing fear of not ever being able to breathe commonly. A desperate pulsing heartbeat that wouldnât relax, or loosen up in rhythm. Â Her upper teeth joined her lower lip and formed an harmony of anxiety. In fact, she desired it to stop right away, but it would surely take more time. And she hated that. Because a jerky breath showed a vulnerability, being a loser in a sport that she hadnât practiced regularly in light-years. Cassie didnât want to appear somewhat inexperienced, but, oh well, what could she do about it?
âââ- âI hope youâll like it, in here. Bristol can be nice."
The surface was supremely caliente, her orbs were so round, when she posed herself next to the stranger. But obviously, showing her disgust towards the bench would procure her negative vibes, and it was enough awkward as it was. Cassie had a sense for that. Tension. Almost as if she brought it everywhere with her. Not on purpose, more of as a consequence. The result of her complex intimacy and continuity on wonders. She knew she couldnât fix it, nor the temperature of the wood, or even her health. Itâd take time.Â
ââââ I donât have enough of it!Â
âââââââSome towns just donât please everyone. I guess thatâs why you didnât stay. I mean, if you runaway from your problems⌠and, you just get another, it wonât work. Itâs like being weak, and then being weakened, but at another place. Do you hate changes?"Â
Intrigued could describe Cassieâs intuition towards the runner, but when was she not? The world was so capacious, so massive, and everyone was so very insignificant! So much to conceive, so much interest, so much fresh inventions. You had to sense learning, becoming the predator to all this easy prowess. All you needed was curiosity. A cat chasing a mouse indefinitely without grasping it. The world was an universe of chase. Â
âââââââââTimes Square is absolutely gorgeous at night! Neon lights flash and city cars rushing by honking horns. It can be quite busy but the fussling and commotion make it unreal. The skyline at sunset is breathtaking. The water is gloomy, however, when you ride the ferry here and there, the white trail of water that follows is pretty remarkable. The skyscrapers are immensely tall, that just hovering them with your vision will make you feeling enclosed, a great feeling. Chinatown smells delicious, but the graffiti make it worse. Then again, without all this, you canât really call it New York."
Obviously, it was arduous to describe such an endroit without creating a speech, but she wanted to give the girl a great idea of what it looked like. A feeling of how wonderfully majestic it were, even with the horrid murders and thieves. She hadnât remarked that the jogger hadnât answered her question, because in all honesty, she didnât care that much. It mostly hurt her emotions as to why she wouldnât, but the information in itself wasnât that important.Â
ââââââYou make me think of a fox, when you say that."Â
The comment was pretty random, but she had the form, appearance and soul. Foxes were intelligent, enough to retreat. Cassie adored them, they were what she hoped to decipher in people. Loners, yet appreciating groups to a point. Clever, and offensive until they realized it wasnât worth it. They were solely the most beautiful animal.
ââââââ âOh, yâknow. I was the wrong damn girl, in the wrong damn room, so I just left it there." Â
As Cassie spoke about new York, it was hard to not close her eyes and paint a mental picture. She was surprised at this girl, at first she had seemed aloof and unsure. Bu this blonde was intelligent, well spoken and she wondered why this girl had run away. Something terrible must have happened because unlike Michelle, Cassie seemed to like Bristol. Michelle spoke about how the town was cancerous, and brought people back like a cliche horror story. But this girl saw a better part of the town. Maybe there was something in Bristol for everyone and maybe Cassie knew what she had wanted. So her answer as to why she had left seemed a bit off. He had a feeling she had returned for a reason. One that Sienna may never know. But prior to Cassie explaining why she returned she called Sienna a fox.
Was she flirting? Sienna wondered. She wasnât really into girls but maybe she was and never knew it. She kept a neutral face as she thought about this response. Unsure of what to actually say or do for this moment. She had been called worse than a fox, much worse. Some of those words still cut deep and she smiled slightly. It could be worse, at least foxes were cute and clever. Better than being called a bitch for no apparent reason.
"Thanks Cassie, thatâs sweet of you," she said, blushing lightly as she fixed her unmanageable hair. The wind had picked her up and threw her brunette locks around, each one smacking into her face like tiny needles. She just wanted to be in New York, even though the version that Cassie had painted was an idyllic one. One without crime or the poor homeless people that lived all over the city. But Sienna only knew what American TV shows showed of New York. Like how everyone is white in Friends, but she had a feeling that New York was not full of white people, no matter how hard Hollywood wished to portray it.
"Well I hope Bristol can be the right room for the both of us," she said and smiled.
She was getting used to it, even though she didnât have many friends. She could sometimes feel the loneliness. It was like she was being wrapped in a duvet one that fully consumed her. One that made life worse and she wished that she could kick it off, smile more and make friends. But for some reason a voice inside her, always cut her down. it was beginning to creep up and swallow her.
She could feel her feet tapping, her hands were rubbing quickly together and she was feeling sick. She was never sure why it always randomly hit her, out of nowhere she would feel this crippling fear. Her body was shaking slightly and her tongue felt tied up. Sienna was like a mute, she could not fathom the English language at this moment. She squeaked when she tried to ask a question and she closed her eyes in embarrassment. She wanted to be dead, she wanted to disappear from this bench but she needed to remember her therapy.
"Iâve always wanted a sister or brother," she said breathlessly. Trying to start some form of conversation. Not wanting to deal with her problems. She needed to use what her therapist told her, talk about herself to have others open up. She needed to stop lying and avoiding people, or she would end up going crazy again. She bit her lip, hoping Cassie wouldnât walk away laughing her arse off at Sienna the freak. She forced her eyes open so she could look to Cassie. Eye contact was always important, she was told.
ââââ- âYou really do. Canât imagine thatâs the first time someone tells you that."
Cassie had subtly flavored her figure with a tenderness of her own. Lips pursing, but colliding with her advanced teeth, so that they rimmed the lower one. The runner breathed sorghum with a quasi constant fire, oxidizing the liquid, and exhaling affability. â- As a consequence, she sensed an emotion of elation, she appreciated someoneâs presence. Cassie whom adored to be involved in her own business, and not minding othersâ. Solitude that she anticipated until the key rolled in the latch, and introduced a fissure to an interior she found calming. Home. Sienna appeared exceptionally sensible, and phenomenal at reaching her profound desires. Seemingly aware of her surroundings, and entourage, she wounded a scar on Cassie. The ones your wear on your heart, not on your sleeves.Â
It occurred to the blonde that sheâd maybe try and continue some interactions with this girl. Or probably not. Wasnât she not the genre to invade oneâs privacy, and upsetting her formal routine? Ainsworth frowned delicately as her traits expressed her ideal response to Siennaâs apparent fidgety mannerism. Consequently, she wondered what was wrong, if sheâd done â unconsciously â a wrong move. It seemed that she hadnât. Hadnât mean to, at least. As cherubic as her visage were, her traits tempered to the weather of the sportive, her sudden anxiety. The pitched note alarmed her as she blinked, and processed to move closerâ as if she could observe a difference, and decipher the secret she kept. Cassie decided versus demanding if she were alright, when she forced some words up her tardy throat.Â
A taming smile discreetly formed upon her mouth as she looked down to place a certain bubble of privacy. Maybe this was her issue, Cassie wondering along explicitly. Obviously, she figured sheâd answer pleasantly, before concluding a pact of synchronicity.
âââ âI have a brother, Reuben. I think heâd like a friend like you. Heâs a babe."
A short sequence set place for Cassie, only mechanically, replacing her little finger, reaching her thigh a few centimeters up her protuberant knee. To cover her risky temptation, she shifted, and sat indian style, and evidently, it required for her palms to extend and creep towards her. Siennaâs reaction would most likely indicate if she had troubles with Cassie herself, or her own disturbing monsters. Which would lead her as to take precautions with her inductions.
ââââââ âEveryone adores him."Â
She was riposte-less. Cassie absolutely wanted the runner to meet her peers, her family, everyone. Internally, she was touched by the fact that she were a lonely child. Obviously, no one wouldâve thought sheâd felt desolateâ with a mother, now deceased, a father, oblivious, a brother, too young to understand. She used to cry for help, pretty much drastically, but stillâ even then, no one laced their fingers with her skinny golden rule, to imply that itâd be there. Sid cared. Cared wasnât enough, wasnât it? She hadnât gained the faculty to accept that.
âââââââââ âIf you want⌠Iâll call my dad andâŚ"
Cassie ceased her phrase there, and moved her hand back to brush her own anatomy. Which still wasnât satisfactory, but had been better. The blonde had stopped progressively to starve herself for days. Reaching the step of helping herself three, small meals a day. And she didnât do it for anyone. Cassie employed that treatment for herself. A personal accomplishment, and Bristol seemed to beam for her, and that runner of a surprise. She was exceptionally merry to encounter the person.
As she had looked into Cassieâs brown eyes, very similar to her own. She had felt the anxiety building up. Cassie spoke and Sienna hadnât replied, she felt the pressure to hard on her and looked away. A voice spoke up, telling her how stupid she was. How she would never amount to anything. That she would die alone and these voices were a twisted version of her own.
Sienna was too in her own world to notice how Cassie had sat differently. She never noticed as her hand floated near Sienna. Her mind was exploding with thoughts that she didnât want. Negative ones that came to her at her weakest. Like ghosts of the past that she was running from. Bobbyâs voice, I love you, he had said before he had taken advantage of her. She still blamed herself for that night, something that had driven her to her breakdown. Her hand clenched the shorts, Cassieâs voice cut through her thoughts.
"A brother?" she has asked rhetorically. And Cassie spoke of how others adored him. Which probably wasnât too far off. Kids usually gain a lot of attention, and had she had a brother or sister; Sienna wondered if she would have been jealous. Especially when one of her parents would have focused on the new child instead of her. But with her motherâs departure but to Sienna she was dead to her. Unsure as to why any person would do such a thing to someone.
There she was, back in her mind and it was an awful place to be in. Like a studio flat full of roaches and spiders. Dark, dim, damp and closing in on her. Cassie started to speak but stopped, unsure as to why. Sienna had continued to fidget with her fingers. She wasnât shaking as much as before, the breathing had helped her. Plus looking back to Cassie, she tried to hold in all her emotions. She could feel the prickles of tears, welling up and she tried to hold them back.
Her throat began to hurt as it dried up, holding back her emotions was becoming much harder than she thought. It was like the walls she had built up were cracking. The water was going to flow and she wasnât sure how she would handle this. She forced a laugh, husky and wrong, quickly brushing her arm against her eyes.
"Iâm a bit mental," she said in her husky voice. âBad things happened, like I know Iâm not the only person to have shit hit the fan but," she continued and it was too hard. She wanted to pour out her soul but didnât want to frighten the blonde girl. She looked fragile, mainly because of her small stature. But Sienna was also small, almost child like.
"I was never good with dealing with it and I had to go away for awhile," she pushed herself further. âI had to come to Bristol because they think Iâm getting better but I think Iâm getting worse and I donât know how to fix it all."
Sienna looked away from Cassie, it was too hard to keep eye contact after her word vomit. She realized how tight her grip had become on her shorts, when she let go the wrinkles had stayed. Her hand had also become pure white due to the pressure and there had been small crescent moons on her palm. But there was no blood, there would have been had she not been holding onto her shorts. Her breathing was rapid as she tried to calm herself. Not wanting to start bawling, but she felt the hot tears roll down her cheeks.
Cassandra had no capacity to console frightened peers, the words filtrated through her throat, and all the pre-chewed phrases she were able to construct, appeared dully robotic, and too generic to soothe any fearâ any disorder. She couldnât even repair herself, let alone wear the darkness of some fucked up girlâs tears. And even though the runner had been extremely sympathetic and non-judgmental, the required attention to grasp her out the bad place couldnât be reached. Her lips cursed, but the insults were inaudible. Her emotions were distorted as she could solely assist to the fight Sienna engaged with her own problems. Like watching a wrecked whale on the beach, respiring the airâ yet not able to survive, like flesh disintegrating on the humid sand. Itâs hardly ever enjoyed, to trace such a glorious and graceful mammal eternally deceased on the area. Itâs thoroughly touching and dismal. Itâs draining.Â
Yet, she were fervent as to prevent her deviant side to show up, and that strummed one of her heart string, so torridly, that it were now disharmonious with her conscience. No choices were remaining and she still managed not to provoke anything, only riposting obtusely to her common reaction.Â
âââââ- âYes. My dad is away in Italy. I keep him in the meantime."
She demonstrated a insightful future with Sienna, considering she hadnât lied in the actual shame to educate her own relative. Obviously, her paternal figure wasnât found of being lonely with a reminder of his deceased wife, he treated Reuben like an alcoholic father would, and she were relieved that he wasnât covered in comatose marks by an abusive parent. Cassandra believed that her younger brother would be able to cheer up the marathoner with a simple beam, and inviting her to play cowboys with all of his newly bought material. At least her dad pays for his stay with herâ or else she wouldnât be able to afford his presence. As cheap as it sounded, this was her reality.
Then it slapped her fabulously. Left a nauseous swollen hand on her gap of a cheek. What would Reuben do? Heâd compliment her, evidently, most likely hold his minuscule hand in hers and simply wait for her to calm down by herselfâ maybe. Something else to hold onto than her shorts. Lay his light weight of a head on her quivering shoulder, whisper a surprise. Cassie was puzzled, and immediately continued her demeanor as what she thought would be resembling her brotherâs. Her fingers flourishing as they approached hers, and finally crossed themselves with Siennaâs. Hands werenât matching, but it felt incredibly right. Then, it was the turn for a compliment.Â
âââââ- âWhat do you want to fix, Sienna? Thereâs nothing to repair."
A forced smile etched her nervous and dry lips, then she leveled the consecutive step, supposedly placing her temple on the edge of her shoulder. But instead she opted for a facile way to express her understanding of the situation. Her liberated hand flickered to the trails of hair covering her mind, like caressing from the base delicately, until she could tangle two fingers and slow them to the peak, then letting it drown in the rest of them. They were bouncy, and velvety. Excellentâ she bet Sienna was proud of them.Â
There was nothing more to add, though. Sheâd accept the runner with her tears and the bad place, and sheâd try to make Bristol her home. Someone could dehydrate himself with the liquid distress, and it would only mean that the malicious would sweat out her worries.
âââ- âPlease, donât change yourself. Accept whatâs making you Sienna."
And on that, the beam arrived naturally.
Cassieâs words of encouragement felt hollow, and Sienna wanted to run. She felt an illogical anger built up in her. An anger that made the hot tears flow a bit faster. She wasnât going to explain how she was broken. She wasnât going to go into her sexual assault. She was broken and she needed to be fixed. Sienna stood up.
"You donât know me, sorry to be twat-y but your empty words wonât help. Trust me, my therapist uses them all the time," she said.
She felt her hands clench up, her anger was blind. It wasnât like she would hit the blonde girl, but she needed to pain to break out of her blind rage. The tears, hot and thick slowed down and her voice quavered as she spoke.
"I donât want to be me, I want to be someone better, someone untainted," she spat out.
She let out an angry grunt, turned and ran away. Knowing this would make it all better. Running always made everything all better. She felt her hands loosen their grip, thankfully no cuts in her hands appeared from clenching. The warm breeze kicked up as she had ran faster.
Her hair flew behind her as she picked up speed, her crying had taken her breath. Her lungs were starting to burn. She could feel herself slowing down, her breath was harsh and she had no idea how far she had gotten. Not very far and she started to slow down. As she stopped she leaned against a brick wall.
She placed her face into the crook of her arm and cried, she had ruined her new friendship. Her anxiety was fucking with her all over again. She felt the hot tears on her arm, her breathing was more harsh than before. Between bouts of crying and trying to breath, she probably looked like she was mental.
Her defensive instinct was alarmed. The runner's speech became harsher-- almost offensive. Cassandra's reaction was fairly natural, considering that the help she was trying to provide, was rejected quite badly. And then, she immediately gasped for a solution. Anything that could conveniently make Sienna feel relieved of her precipitated distress. Obviously, the relation she had with her therapist wasn't one of the most prized-- she noted.Â
------- "I--- I'm sorry.. I--"
She tactfully replaced herself with a secured distance so that she couldn't be physically hurt. Because-- hell, it did hurt to hear those reproaches aloud. It hurt to acknowledge the pain, and how-- herself too wasn't satisfied with that deficit of pureness in her spirit. Cassie-- as little as she understood, just pursed her lips, and sealed her eyelids. Fuck.. this wasn't happening.Â
--------------- "Sienna... please--"Â
Her buttocks were adhered to the bench, and she could only manage to observe the form progressively becoming so minuscule. Until she disappeared by a corner, and why did she feel so wrong? For not doing a thing. To let her run when years ago she wished someone would've simply taken her hand--- brought her to a special place, and whisper tenderly the right words in her frigid ears. If only...Â
And this was the signal, for her to pursue the mentally ill, maybe not to stick around, but at least provide her a reason to stay--- to have hope. Sienna appeared so troubled by her own emotions, by her illicit reaction. Normality killed, and Cassie was definitely not one to seek the conformity. All she wanted-- was acceptance. Â
Eventually, she arrived near the location of the girl and awkwardly stood there. An embrace didn't seem appropriate. Any form of physical contact seemed to irritate her sentiments even further. And so, she delicately spoke up.Â
------------------------ "You're right, Sienna. I don't know you. I can't change you. I won't be your psychologist. Trust me... I just want you to feel better about yourself."
turnnoffyourmind
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