H E R

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b l a c k b e a r

hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone

❝ My mom's unhappy with all the choices I've been making with my life ❞

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u n h a p p y

not happy.

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     When Pacifica had returned to her dorm, she saw two people sitting on the mini couch in the living room as she entered. Raising an eyebrow at the two, who had seemed very comfortable in her room, she stood in front of them and crossed her arms, looking pointedly at Gideon and Alexandria.

     "I can explain," blurted Gideon, his pale, freckle sprinkled cheeks flushing a dusty pink. His dark eyes glimmered underneath the soft light that hung on the ceiling. Alexandria just grinned at Pacifica.

     "I'm not angry, don't worry," Pacifica let loose a laugh, smiling at the two. Alexandria suddenly frowned, her lips pouting and her eyes curious.

     "Wait, why are you even here? I thought you had a tour?"

     "Key word is 'thought', sweetheart."

     "Man, if he wasn't the Head Prefect, I'd ram his head in and probably yell at him," grumbled Alexandria, crossing her arms and pushed her back further into the couch. Pacifica simply sighed,  smiling amusedly, and began feeling her pockets.

     That was when she noticed something was missing. Panic washed over her like a wave, her eyes flashing as she tried to check her pockets, patting anything to feel it. It wasn't anywhere.

     Several scenarios flashed through her head as she tried to figure out the last place she left it. Panic was still bubbling inside of her, but somehow fear had crawled its ugly head into it too, the fear of disappointment, for Mother wouldn't want someone as irresponsible as her.

     "Oh, half-baked cookies! Guys, I forgot my phone, I'm going to go back and search for it, stay here okay!" rambled Pacifica, rushing to the door and skipping the steps to the stairs to run out to the field.

    The sun had set, pretty quickly, Pacifica thought. Or maybe it was because she was in an argument within herself whether Gleeful was good or bad. She shook her head; it wasn't the time to think about Satan, it caused her nothing but trouble and a severe headache.

    Pacifica retraced her steps until she saw a boy with brown hair laid down on the ground gazing at the sky. She hesitantly approached the boy, calming her racing heart by breathing slowly.

    "You're not very stealthy, sugar," murmured the boy, glancing at Pacifica before continuing watching the sky as though she was nothing but a mere disturbance to his world of peace. But of course, she knew nothing about the war waging in his head. Coincidentally, she was just what he needed; a distraction.

    "So, what brings the dim-witted to the outside world instead of sitting inside all day?" said Dipper, and Pacifica rolled her eyes, already hearing the smirk in his voice.

    "What the frig is wrong with you? Do you have a problem with everyone like this?" annoyance had finally snapped Pacifica, because the walk to the edge of the forest from the school was long and Pacifica hadn't any food, which made her crankier.

    "What's wrong with me? Have you asked that to yourself?" replied Dipper in a calm and collected manner as he got up, and rose to his towering height. He brushed off inexistent dust from his shoulders as he looked intensely at Pacifica.

    "You have more mood swings than a girl on her period," muttered Pacifica, trying hard not to show how intimidating Dipper was right now. She was finding it hard to look at his eyes, but finally did, and saw they were slightly red, and his eyelashes were slightly wet.

    His once perfectly ironed shirt was crinkled, his hair was as though it had been ran through one too many times, and he looked tired. Oh so, tired.

    He looked slightly broken, too. Pacifica didn't know how to feel. Pity reared its unwanted head.

   "Your petty replies, which you would refer to as 'comebacks' or whatever you name it to make you feel better, would be greatly appreciated if you just kept your pretty little mouth shut," said Dipper, his voice like icy wind. He stepped closer to Pacifica, and looked at her, his gaze colder than the Antarctic snow.

     His gorgeous BRONZE coloured eyes shone brilliantly, regardless of the fact of the setting sun.

   And just like that, her pity for him disappeared.

   Pacifica held his gaze, for she knew that if she looked away, it'd be defeat.

    "You are a rude, ignorant, egotistical, arrogant, have I mentioned rude? And unbearable son of a biscuit!" gritted out Pacifica, glaring at the tall, dark and handsome boy. No, no, ugh, she thought, he's Satan! The Devil! The bad guy!

    "You missed out a few words, sweetheart, such as ruggedly handsome, intelligent, elegant, dangerous and eloquent," he whispered, his cool breath smelt like mint and strawberries. It was a terrible thing, because Pacifica really loved strawberries.

    "But then I'd be lying, wouldn't I?" said Pacifica, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

    "Why the hell do you talk so much?" It felt like Dipper's emotions were a whirlwind to Pacifica, maybe a hurricane. They changed so often, like the anger that was suddenly thrown at Pacifica.

    Dipper had spoken with pure fury, and slight frustration as he stepped back and raked his long, pretty hands in his pretty brown hair. He looked stressed, and worried. Pacifica felt her heart clench, because that question was something close to home. Something her parents asked her, something she asked herself too.

    Maybe it was insecurity; maybe it was simply something she wasn't happy with. Whatever you'd name it. Pacifica's blood turned cold as soon as those words came out of Dippers mouth.

     "You're right, I mean, aren't you always?" said Pacifica, coldly, while a burning, fiery hatred was brewing for the boy in front of her. Dipper had his eyebrows furrowed, his fingers on the bridge of his nose, he whipped his head to look at her.

    "I only came here to find my phone, so if you do find it, I'd like it back," in a calm tone, Pacifica slowly backed away from the tall boy. A flash of panic was seen across his handsome features, but they were gone as soon as they came.

    "Blue eyes, wait, no," he said in a weak attempt to get her back, as he watched her walk away. "Oh, fuck," he muttered hotly, and began dialing his sister.

    Pacifica felt the cool breeze tickle her as it rushed by, but the tears were beginning to form. Her cheeks felt heated, and her throat felt like it was constricted, dry like the Sahara desert. A sob was beginning to form, and a hurricane in the back of her throat.

    It hurt because she herself thought she talked too much. It hurt because her parents asked her it too. It hurt because Mother thought it too. It hurt because an attractive boy told her, and as much she thought that his opinion didn't matter, it did, no matter what. She looked up to the dark, star sprinkled sky to hold the tears inside as she kept walking to the school.

    She raced to the girls bathroom, and looked at the mirror, where a girl with loose blonde curls and red eyes was facing her. She quickly wiped a tear that had escaped and washed her face. She tried to smile at the mirror, anything to cover it up, anything to make it believable.

    She started to walk to her dorm room, and opened to find it empty. She searched her kitchen to find a note that read 'We waited, but we're impatient, see ya tomorrow, Pazzy puffs! - A & G'. A sigh escaped her lips as she finally broke down, piece by piece.

    She curled up on her bed and slept and slept and slept. Until she woke up at 4 in the morning to find wet tears on her cheeks. Sobs began to crash against her like merciless waves, and tears that were burning and hot that fell to the bed as she sobbed, her back vibrating with each cry. She tried to be silent, it was too much.

     Her canvas was being ripped at its edges.

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b r o n z e

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Dedicated to: galacticart

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s i l v e r

e y e s

h o p i n g

f o r

p a r a d i s e

i ' v e

s e e n

i t

a

m i l l i o n

t i m e s

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