"Are you sad?"
hnn, what? did she hear that right? amanda freezes, nimble fingers pausing in their fumbling with adjustable mechanisms. she’d been too focused, too distracted to pay much mind to the other girl. swimsuit model girl. heh.
there’s a lull there within, a sudden feeling, like feet screeching to a halt. the same kind of feeling you get when descending stairs, when steps fall out from under you. she’d like to pretend it’s far in the depths of her mind, repressed, but it’s a feeling pushing at a frontal lobe, almost like against her skull, against the column of her throat. a sick sort of feeling.
it’s a feeling in the forefront of her, its beady eyes glistening while it chugs down fucking popcorn in front of the stupid silver screen that is her life. it’s the feeling that makes her sick. it laughs at her worthlessness.
“what would you know about sadness? look at you.” she snorts, offering her furrowed brows before amanda’s turning back to her work, as if disinterested in pursuing further conversation. feigning. falling away.“what, i look all peaches and roses to you or something? if i wanted a therapist i would’ve blown all my money on it like all of these other fucktards.”
