Mag-log inIt's rather strange where I am. I'm not supposed to be in Archie's childhood home. I can see Angie there. She's laying on the ground, bleeding. The bike I stole isn't far from her. Archie is shaking her. Crying and screaming. I don't understand. My mind is hazy, I'm so confused.
Archie looks at me, calls me a murderer. He points at me, almost poking me. I'm not a murderer. I try to explain, I try to say something, but I can't. It's like my mouth has been shut. He lunges at me, grabbing my shirt. He's shaking me. I'm crying. My throat is dry, my armpit damp with sweat. "Vicky, snap out of it!" Someone shakes me violently. I open my eyes. Jesse is beside my bed looking so worried. I don't get a word out because he's hugging me. Magnus, Gideon and Ander come in at some point during the hug. It's only when I try to close my eyes that I realize I've been crying. There are tear stains down to my chin. "You had a nightmare. You were screaming and crying so loud. What happened? Who's Angie? You kept mentioning her." I see Ander stiffen from my peripheral view. He clenches his jaw, focusing on anything else but me. I feel sick to my stomach. I turn my attention back to Jesse who's patiently waiting for me to say something. "It's," I cough a little because of how hoarse my throat is. "An old memory. Nothing important. I'm okay." Ander doesn't physically react to my statement, but I know if he were the only one in the room with me, he'd have punched me across the mouth. "Are you sure?," Gideon inquires. I nod again, assuring them I'm all right. Eventually, they believe me and leave. I fall back on my bed panting. I'm near panic attack at this moment. My breath is getting erratic. Just as I'm about to fall back into the pool of misery, Magnus opens the door. "Come have breakfast. I'm sure you're starving." I'm not, but anything to keep myself busy is well accepted. Gideon is leaving as I come out. He gives me a hug, assuring me I'm going to be fine. I nod and smile, half not understanding why he'd do that. The only other person still having breakfast is Ander. He's the last person I want to see right now. I still sit down on the farthest chair from him. "Is that your best effort at avoiding me? You have to do better." "I'm not avoiding you." Nothing else leaves my mouth. Left to me, I wouldn't even be in the same school with him right now. "Then come closer Vicky." I do, but not too close. I can still make a run for it. "She used to call you Vicky. She's the one that started calling you Vicky. Archie's friend Vicky." My mind is drifting back to Angie. She did call me Vicky. She'd lost her front teeth once and couldn't pronounce the V anymore. She was so cute. "I'm sorry." "Oh no sweetie. What are you sorry for? Don't apologize to me. Your fucking apology won't change the course of history will it?." His hands are leaving the table. I know where exactly they're aiming. He wants to grab my neck. I shift a little, but his hands don't move. They just stay there on his lap. "I have a dead sister, an insane mother and an avoidant father. That's so amazing isn't it? So fucking amazing." Ander is done with his plate so he gets up to leave. Just when I think he's going to leave, he goes behind me and bends to whisper. "You ruined my family. I won't stop saying it. I won't stop talking about it. An eye for a fucking eye. Vicky." He walks out of the dorm, slamming the door so hard it startles me. Tears are streaming down my face. I'm sniffing and my shoulders are shaking. I really really want to go back home. I don't want to stay here. I feel so miserable. My alarm dings, indicating I have to get ready for class, but I don't have a student in me right now. I almost literally crawl back to my room, leaving my cereal untouched. There's nobody else in the dorms with me, so I bawl my eyeballs out. I'm sniffing and coughing and any longer, I'll puke. Just my luck, because my mother calls me. I don't want to pick, but I know not answering her will make her worry. I wipe my face with my sleeve and clear my throat. "Hey mommy." I try to sound cheery, but it's not working. I feel like death right now. "Hello sweet thing. I miss you so much, so I decided to call you. I hope I'm not interrupting your lectures or anything? Why is your voice so low?" "No, you're not interrupting. I'm in the hall, but our professor hasn't come. It's okay." My lips quiver, begging me to let my tears out. I can't start crying while on the phone with my mother. "Okay. Let me know when they arrive okay? I wouldn't want to take your time." I laugh a little. Not because I feel like, but I have to. "Like I wouldn't mind my time being taken." She goes on to talk about life in our neighborhood and her office place. I know pretty much everybody she's talking about. Being an only child makes you cling to your parents like there's no tomorrow. "Margaret was asking about you. She said she'd text you. Has she? And no, I'm not trying to set you up with Margaret. She genuinely, platonically misses you." Margaret was the first and only friend I made when we moved from the city to the suburbs. We don't have a lot of things in common, but she was great company whenever I felt miserable. "No, she hasn't messaged me. If you run into her again, you can just give her my number to call me. It'd be nice to hear from her again." I'm taking deep breaths now. Anything to not make me cry. "Are you really okay sweetie? You can talk to me about it right?" I can, but I don't want to. If my parents find out I'm around the Matheos brothers, they can go as far as withdrawing me from the school. That's how bad it could get. "I'm fine. Just caught a bit of a cold this morning. Jesse gave me something to take. I'm feeling better already." Before she can bombard me with questions, I'm speaking again. "I'd love to talk some more, but I have to go now." "Oh yes. Your classes. Get better soon. Kisses." She ends the call and back on my bed I go. I don't even realize when I fall asleep. * * * I know I slept because I'm waking up. Or rather, someone is shaking me awake. I think I have another nightmare, but that's not the case. Magnus and Gideon are smiling at me. "Come on, we're going out." "Out?" I am still dressed in my pyjamas - unbathed! "Where are we going?" Magnus sits beside me. "So, there was one senior that used to be in my faculty, but he was expelled for illegal drug dealing on campus. He opened a very cool bowling alley and today is the opening night." I open my mouth to argue, but Gideon is already pulling me to the bathroom. I take a shower, not as long as I'd like it to be, and dress in the most comfortable thing I own. Sweatpants and Crocs. "Where are Ander and Jesse?," I ask when I see we're the only ones. "They're on a date. We single bros are going to bowl till the morning." Magnus says that and 30 minutes later, he's regretting it. If he can do many things, bowling isn't among those things. He hasn't hit a single pin. At the end of the day, I don't feel as shitty as I did at the beginning. I laughed so hard, juice came out of my nose. "Thanks." I tell the both of them as we're walking back home. Magnus interlocks his fingers with mine and responds. I shrug, even though I know they'll never know how much they helped me today.I wake up not dreading the day because Ander is by my side. I turn, moving closer to him and inhaling more of his scent. It's so intoxicating, it does nothing to help my morning wood. I can't do anything about it though because since I agreed to be his friend, Ander hasn't made a move on me sexually. Yes we cuddle and feed each other and can't get enough of the other's presence, but nothing sexual. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one. Ander shifts in the bed too, turns to face me but isn't awake. I stare at his peaceful face. He never looks like this when he's awake, always has his face scrunched up like an unlubed butt plug was shoved in his ass for too long. I'm tempted to push the curls off his face and I do. Passing my fingers through in a faux attempt to untangle the strands. As much as I hate to admit it, Ander is the reason I'm on this bed right now. If not for him, I probably would be a rotting corpse in the bathtub. Sometimes I consider telling him this truth
If anybody were to call me a crazy person, I wouldn't fight them. Instead, I'd give them a trophy for telling the truth. I am a crazy person, and this realization is driving me even crazier. Why am I crazy? I'm crazy because I'm parked in the driveway of my girlfriend's house. Evana was the 3rd year film student I spilled my drink on when I was drunk off my ass at a party. Unlike the expected reaction, she apologized to me instead and sat with me till I sobered up. She's funny and interesting but I never liked her romantically. I still don't, but somehow it feels like there's this pressure on my shoulders to be perfect. I see Ander with his mood swings and tantrums — things that make him the dysfunctional person he is. But I can't be like that. I'm to be the better son. And the better son likes women. Evana comes out of the house in her usual clothing. A cottage skirt, shirt just a size smaller than hers and loafers. She's modest yet incredibly sexy and I should feel something for
I'm pacing the driveway, my fingernail in my mouth. I don't know, or rather, I know. Heck, what am I even saying?I stare at the keys in my hand. I want to go, but I shouldn't. He hates me, and I don't blame him. But I need to see him. It's an urge so strong my hair is standing like I've been electrocuted. Archer asked me where I was headed this morning and I told him to go fuck himself. His brows creased, not very glad my response was crude. But, it's not my fault. It's one of those days I can't get a single thought in my head. It's hyper fixating on Vicky. My brain that is. And no matter what I do, I can't get it to stop. It's like I'm buzzing so much I'm vibrating. "Are you alright?" My brother yells from the balcony. My balcony. My safe haven. I flip him off and gain enough motivation to get on my bike. I don't drive like a mad man like I normally do. Maybe if I drive slowly, by the time I get there, Vicky would've left for classes and I won't have to face him. Archer's apart
It's yet again the same routine. Wake up, lie in bed till my intestines threaten to rip into pieces then go downstairs. Archer has been feeding me, yes. But sometimes I just can't keep the food in. Last night was one of those times. I puked so much, it took my lungs a whooping 45 minutes to recover. And I tried taking a little whiskey to help with the nausea, but the ass wouldn't let me touch anything. I don't know why he bothers or why it bothers me. I always ask myself questions. Does he care? But I know he doesn't. It's so I'll keep his secret. Today's meal is the leftover pizza from last night. There's 3 slices on a plate, a fruit bowl and yoghurt waiting for my consumption. "There's no need. This isn't a very wise bribe." Archer doesn't answer me, but continues staring at the pizza in the microwave. I shrug and eat. My stomach twists, surprised by the intruders, but I force it down my throat. I felt like I was going to die last night. And honestly, I really don't like that fe
Oh my goodness. I'm awake again. It's not a good thing to dread it, but I do. I wake up starving and run to the kitchen for anything edible or closely related to food. Archer has had groceries sent to me twice so far, so there's a decent amount of ingredients to choose from. I snack on the unopened tube of Pringles before making a cereal then an omelette then some toast. I may be eating a lot, but don't look it. I'm still skinny and maybe even paler than I was before. Checking my class schedule, I have 3 classes today, the first one starting in about an hour. I could skip, like I've been skipping but it's about time I go back to living a normal life. Nothing about the last few months have been normal, and I'm trying to end the trend of crazy. I take a relaxing shower and apply my makeup. It's minimal, just to hide the eye bags and my droopy cheeks. After one last fit check, I leave. My taxi is waiting for me right on time but I get to the class a little late. The professor allows
I would've stayed asleep longer, but the growling coming from stomach or the gnawing of my intestines steal the sleep from my eyes. I roll around a couple times, and search on the nightstand for anything edible I might've left on it. There's nothing there. Few days ago, I googled why I didn't have an appetite. It was concluded — by website links that had already turned purple — to be anorexia. The only problem with believing that, is that I'm not actually anorexic, or I don't think I am. I would say I don't have a distorted body image, but I don't think i have an image at all. I've sort of been living in this bubble for a while now. A bubble where I exist and don't at the same time. A therapist would have answers to all this shit, I just need to get one first. I drag myself up, and to the bathroom. While on the toilet seat, I stare at the mirror staring at me. I'm speechless. That isn't me, is what I would've said if I didn't know it was me. Sunken cheekbones, hollow eyes, scars ev
My phone is in my hands as I stare at it. The lecture ended a few minutes ago, but I can't get myself to stand up. I'm to visit Archer today. I don't really want to, but mom says I should. I can't be a disappointment at all things. My initial plan was to visit Marcus. Just drown myself in earthly
I know I'm awake, but my eyes refuse to open. I'm sporting what is hinting at a migraine at this point. Aubrey, as expected is calling me. I reach out to grab my phone, but instead I push it off the nightstand. I grunt, struggling to get it. Jesse comes inside, sees my peril and grabs the phone fo
I can't tear my eyes away from either of them. I don't know what they're saying, but I feel like I shouldn't know. My head is spinning and I feel so nauseous. The level of attachment I have to Vicky is insane. Unhealthy too, but primarily insane. I call after Jesse as he goes upstairs. "Hey babe.
It's 11:47 am right now. I've been up since 5 a.m because of Jesse. Today is Ander's birthday and he's planned a huge surprise party. Ander as usual went out for a party. Jesse is a hindered percent sure he won't be conscious till noon, so we don't have to worry about interruptions. "Vicky, have y







