Chapter 7

Tuesday, fucking Tuesday.

 

 

That song. Why did he have to know that song? She thought to herself, on the way up the wooden stairs. All the nights after Andrea was taken, she would listen to that song on repeat. 

 

She felt those words he sang.

 

Why did this idiot have to spew them now?

 

The song that was connected to her worst darkness. The worst time in her life. When her only loving flesh and blood was taken from her. Why now, does it have to come back? After years being in the afterthought of her past, why does it still strike her? Stop her?

 

She heads upstairs to the top floor without stopping to speak. Get this "uniform" off. Take a walk. Clear her head. Get his fucking words out.

 

He doesn't know you, she repeats. He doesn't know.

 

The time you lost how to feel. The time you started torturing yourself. Cutting.

 

"Get out!" She yells to the empty room.

 

Her voices coming back, mocking the control over her consciousness. 

 

He's right, you know. 

 

It's just a song.

 

One in a million songs.

 

She strips off the orange and white uniform. Trying to get free from work as fast as possible. 

 

Go take a run. Get free from everything. Listen to some music, get completely free from it. 

 

As she dresses for a workout, her mind creeps back to the song. Not wanting to acknowledge it, but deep down, she wants to hear it again.

 

She barely makes eye contact, as she slips the sponges in her ears, and out the door. Her feet pickup they're pace. The song begins, as she runs away over gravel.

 

Just once she thinks to herself.