I breathe in deeply.
Slow, shaky breaths.
I flex my fingers. Are they moving? I can't tell, they're completely numb. I realize that I'm trembling when I adjust my position from lying flat on my back to resting on my right side.
Well, what now? What else? Do I sit here and wait for another heart attack? Wait for my guts to pop out? Ugh, I didn't need that mental picture. But it's a very strong possibility. The sooner I accept that I'll die a painful, bloody death, the easier it'll be to lie in this bed and sit still like a good girl.
A sigh escapes me.
I don't want to be a good girl.
A long time ago, that thought would have suprised me. The me that disappeared somewhere inside myself. That person was a straight A student, was always surrounded by friends, had the coolest parents, and was the envy of everyone. I guess you could say I was popular.
I would say I was sickeningly perfect.
Well, almost perfect. I lacked the one crucial element to being accepted into that crowd of the rich and beautiful.
At least I had some sense of individuality back then because if I hadn't, I would've ran into the nearest guy's arms. But I didn't. Because I knew I didn't need anyone to always be at my side.
But that didn't last...
I can still remember...
sorry, it's kind of short but I had to cut it off here. lol, don't you hate cliffhangers?