Post by PHOEBE TURNER on Jul 5, 2016 19:20:12 GMT -6
━ I CAN TASTE THE DANGER, BUT I DON'T WANNA RUN ━
Once upon a time, the psychiatrist that she had been sent to had told her that making friends and being social would help with everything that she had gone through. How wrong he had been. She couldn’t tell these ‘friends’ about the fact that her sister was this monster with fangs and had kidnapped her. She couldn’t tell them that her sister, the monster that had replaced the woman she had once known, had been killed by a man. A man that had saved her but not her sister. Phoebe didn’t understand then and still does not understand, probably because the doctors had told her it was just a dream and that was her subconscious way of forgetting what truly happened to her. hell, the doctors couldn’t figure out what had happened from her. She hadn’t been raped, hadn’t been beaten, there was no indication that anything happened to her, other than she was gone. Finally, they just believed she ran away and replaced that memory with seeing her sister as a monster before she died. They blamed it on a television that youth watched in the present day.
Still, she knew that it was true and that it happened, and if people didn’t believe her then she would never tell anyone ever again. And thus, she was given the okay towards her health and was allowed to go back to the normality of her life. And with that, she packed her bags, moved to San Francisco for college, much to her Uncle’s dismay. He worried about her, she understood that, but she needed to move on and live her life. A life that had changed so dramatically since her family was ripped from under her small grasp. She’d live for them, to honor them.
Though was she really honoring them by never telling anyone about her father’s death, her mother’s abandonment and her sister’s vampirism that had gotten her killed? No. But people wouldn’t believe her anyway. Not many people knew of her past, actually, no one did. Maybe one day there will be that person she trusts with every fiber of her being, one that she would trust not to call her crazy when she tells them the story of her life. But for now, there was no person like that, not even the friends that she had made while attending college.
And while she may be a popular young woman, it didn’t mean that her group of friends were actually her friends. They were nice, yes, but she didn’t trust them with her past. But she still had hopes for someone, for anyone, to reach the level of trust that she needed in order to rip open her wounds and share her secrets.
She was pulled from her thought as someone shushed her from the table a little way down, and quickly she stopped pounding her pencil against the wooden surface of the table. She wouldn’t have been in the school library if she didn’t have a reason, and it was a simple reason actually. She was failing math. Not that it mattered with her major, but she needed to pass it to get rid of her general needs. Maybe that was why her teacher had offered to ask one of her best students to tutor Phoebe in the subject. And maybe that was why Phoebe was sitting in the library, waiting for the person to appear and help her in the subject that she had always hated. But Phoebe was someone that hated sitting still for long, and that was why she once again started to tap her pencil gently against the wood surface of the table.