June POV:
Mondays and Wednesdays are the worst.
Not because of what happens on those days… but because of what they mean.
They carry the dread of what's waiting for me tomorrow.
When I saw Justin at school, he was back to his cold, distant self. Moody. Untouchable.
But honestly? I didn't have the energy to care.
I was too lost in my own mess — too busy trying to hold the pieces of myself together with shaky hands and fake smiles.
It's fucking hard to smile when you're dying on the inside.
It's harder when everyone around you wants to be you, envies you, worships the ground you walk on — because if they really knew? If they had any idea?
I'd trade lives with them in a heartbeat.
No one ever looks past the surface.
No one hears the silent screaming behind my laugh.
No one ever does.
Because who would believe me?
Not my mother.
When I begged her for protection, for safety, she called me a liar.
