Juliet sat at a table in the msu food court by herself, half watching the people walk by and half doodling in a notebook. Headphones rested in her ears, she barely heard what was playing, too lost in her thoughts. In front of her was an open notebook and history text, she was supposed to be taking notes from the reading, on the chair beside her was a messanger bag and a toolbox that was filled with art supplies for her drawing class. She reached up and pushed back hair that had fallen into dark lined eyes.
She had been home for almost a week now and she still felt like a complete stranger. The therapists had told her to expect that, to feel awkward knowing that life had gone on without you. But she hadn't been prepared for this. It felt like her family while she had been gone had resigned themselves to being a happy family of four and now suddenly she was thrust back in their lives and no one knew what to do. Trouble was back. The cause of pain and sleepless nights, the catalyst that threatned to tear apart the otherwise picture perfect household. As illogical as it may be that's what she saw herself as.
Jules scratched at a wristband on her left arm idly. She never left her room, let alone the house, without them. She had a drawer full of braclets, bands, arm warmers, anything to cover up the scars that still lingered on the underside of her wrist. She had to wonder if she would always be regarded as the crazy one in the middle, the trouble maker. Even as a child she could remember being the one who wandered off to look at something, the one who snuck around weeks before Christmas trying to find where the presents were hidden.
A year in a home for toubled teens after her parents decided they couldn't handle her anymore. Let out because everyone thought she was better, normal now. And she did feel better, a lot better. The world was something worth waking up for again. It didn't hurt all the time and the anger in her heart had started to die out. But she thought herself still far from normal. No, she still had a long way to go before that. Before a smile would be anything but half forced and the small nagging in the back of her mind would simply dissapate.
But she was almost halfway there.