Biting her tongue, Ava returned to her room. She couldn't describe how she felt, it was like her emotions had temporarily been switched off. As Lucy's words spiraled uncontrollably in her head like a tornado, there was a shallow feeling in her chest. Why had she been complaining about her mum when that was her girlfriend's raw reality? It was so much worse than she had been expecting...

https://youtu.be/6e_Tf9k2pWg

Drowning in guilt, she broke eye contact with Lucy and the tears started falling. Her mum was just cruel, not even Maleficent could compete to be honest. 

"I've been selfish, I know", cried Ava.

*shocked* "What do you mean?", spluttered Lucy.

" Your mum was horrible. The juice, the bulimia and all. You've been through all that and I'm here moaning that my mum needs a couple more months at least to enroll me into college", she choked out.

" She is horrible yeah but that's not your fault Ave, and yes you know I was jealous of that stuff then", coldly responded Lucy.

"Babes your face gave it away, your not good at hiding it", pointed out Ava.

"Can't argue with that i'm no actor like you. And yeah, I want what you have. Is that so wrong?", she answered.

"No", snapped Ava, pulling her in for a kiss to silence her.

Settling on a truce after a few minutes of an eerie silence, Lucy reached out her pinky finger. She was visibly shaken from their discussion, like it dawned that even their love was fragile and all it could take was meaningless words to shatter them.

" I'm sorry Ave, you know I love you", she pleaded.

*looking at her through the condensed tears* "I know, future and beyond?", urged Ava.

*linking fingers* "Future and beyond", quipped Lucy.

Basically repeating their previous promise, they were too exhausted to carry on fighting. Lucy had thrown her journal onto her duvet and with the quiet buzz of Rick and Morty in the background, they both had an earlier night. With lights off they settled down for the night, Ava's mind still whirling.

As morning transitioned into night, the time proceeded to soar past. Lucy kept herself busy tutoring Charlie with the deadline for the competition tasks looming. As their work came together elegantly on the page, Ava admired them from a distance. Knowing the meaning made it more interesting for her to observe. She'd understood that it was Lucy's passion before but those flashbacks to her past life had haunted her.

Predictable to Ava, Lucy was chosen as the best short story entry but Lucy would never admit it herself. Just the thought of the cardinal sins made her shiver still, guess some family heirlooms would stay with her at least.

" You deserved it Luce", Ava re-assured her once they got back into their rooms following a disastrous dinner for Charlie.

" I guess", she stuttered in response. 

*stroking her arm slowly* " You did though and yes everybody was good but think of the community time your going to get", retorted Ava.

Despite that, all Lucy could think about was how she had denied the others girls extra visitation with their families. Their own flesh and blood. What good was winning to her? Winning would be leaving.

Charlie's perspective

In contrast, a feeling of failure was consuming Charlie with its gnarling teeth, sending shivers down her spine. That dinner, just that day was a disaster for her. Her top was stained with spillage from the Ng tube that had suffocated her and her journal was out of reach in her drawer. Martha wanted her to learn a lesson so she felt like she was being disciplined like a toddler. 

Damn, she thought. she wasn't in prison or rehab. Had she really been that bad?

Everything was going great until the competition winner had been announced. Straight after was dinner where she was unexpectedly facing her biggest fear food : pasta.

The source of her calorific fears back in high-school. 

 She'd tried to restrain the demons but it was all too much. The world went fuzzy and with what felt like a blink she was in her room having the tube fitted again. Tired from a presumed panic attack, she stared at the ceiling in shock and managed to drift off for the night, praying the stars would be brighter when she woke up.

The next day would be Jason's last chemotherapy session supposedly, "for good measure" as it was described by his nurse. The past week had been intense on him and his skeleton just needed rest. In his own words, he had been a "useless bald thumb with a stupid amount of ice- cream and presents". 

Hopefully this would be the last time, none of her family could survive another course of treatment. Praying for him to be as comfortable as possible, she was torn on how she could be struggling so much voluntarily compared to him. Guess that's a question that even the best therapists can't really answer...