AMELIA.
If going to school was hard before, it’s now close to impossible.
On Monday, I walk down the hall like a druggie experiencing symptoms of withdrawal.
Not only are my fingers twitchy, but I keep watching my back as if expecting a sudden attack.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration. Or is it? I honestly don’t know anymore. I spent the whole weekend overthinking until my head nearly exploded. I didn’t find the same level of joy in bingeing on my true crime shows and podcasts.
Instead, I kept replaying what happened two days ago in the haunting darkness of the forest.
The chase.
The b*****b.
How Dylan came all over my face. It should’ve been humiliating, right? But I found myself staring at the mirror, recalling how I looked after he drove me home.
I was a mess, but not in th
