I realize that I’m alone for the first time since my incident earlier this evening and the quietness tangible in my room is almost suffocating. I feel my teeth biting my cheek as I slide on my back along the length of my closed door, coming to rest on the carpeted floor with my head leaning against the white wood.
If this is my new life, I’m in for one hell of a ride.
I clutch the pile of clothes to my chest, my throat closing up as all the emotions I had been shutting out come surging back to the surface. I try to breathe in deeply, my body tensing before I force myself to get up off the ground.
Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to get me anywhere and sitting on the floor with my pity-party of one sure won’t help my case either. With that realized I shove everything to the back of my mind.
I put the stack I had been holding on the bed, finally taking the time to look through the outfit Clary had picked out for me. I lift up a pair of dark denim high-waist shorts with lace tipped bottoms.
Next I pick up a corset-like, thin-strapped top covered in a purple, blue and white Aztec print. Lastly I come across a soft, aged and long white lace cardigan. I see that she’s put down a pair of blue heels....I pick them up tentatively to take a closer look.
After observing them I catch the sight of my bag I had put in Aidan’s car out of the corner of my eye. He must have put it in here while me and Clary had been cleaning dishes last night and had gone unnoticed in its isolated corner of the room. I thankfully place the heels back down and fetch my bag, placing it on the bed.
I undo the buckle, reach inside the canvas bag and pull out my spare pair of sneakers I always keep in case of emergencies. Spending a whole day at school barefoot 2 years ago because the strap on my sandal broke was enough to make keeping them in here a necessity.
As pretty as those heels are, I’ve never been one to wear heels often....and by often, I mean only EXCEPTIONALLY rare occasions.
I get dressed into the outfit and then run my fingers through my hair to pull the knots out. I look at my reflection in a mirror mounted on the wall and notice that the bruise has faded slightly, meaning it’s on the mend and should be gone sooner than I thought. I’ve got to get myself some of that cream they keep using.
I’m just finishing off tying the laces on my sneakers when I hear a faint knocking on my white-washed door.