Emma's Pov

"Mother do I really have to?" I ask once we both make it to the living room

My parents are making me go to school for senior year even though I'm begging not to. Father wouldn't understand my problem since his philosophy is to stay on top, which is why I'm asking her. She's the more lenient parent and has stood up for me sometimes. As I've been ahead of my class since freshmen year and even my counselors informed them I didn't have to attend because of my 5.4 GPA.

But there's another reason why I don't want to go, and it's the real reason why we're here.

"Yes Emma, we've spoken about this in the presence of your father. We shall not do it again privately," She replies robotically and I look at her dully

She tightens her newly white polished fingers around her light purple coffee mug as her gaze gradually comes from the newspaper to me, and I take the hint to step out of her way.

She then turns back to me and takes off her thick black rimmed glasses pursing her lips while doing so, and I mentally prepare myself for her next words.

"And what about Nathan honey? You can't just let him do the dirty work this year. Besides, you too need to attend that graduation. Together," She replies in a stern motherly tone placing a strand of blonde hair behind my ear before retreating back to her office

I gnaw the inside of my cheek while trying to keep the snarky comments to myself, and look around the room to see Nathan and I in previous photos together that are hung on the wall.

Almost like trophies.

He's been my boyfriend since our freshmen year, when my parents arranged us to be together, and the public has ate up our act since it begun. But that's all this is, an act. When the doors close and the events are done, the cruel monsters come out.

"Stupid fudging school. Why can't you just suck a peedawacker and die?" I mutter to myself walking up the stairs leading to my bedroom

Ding!

Faintly hearing the sound as I close the door, I look to see my phone screen is dimly lighted and scrunch my nose in confusion. I grab it, and my breath hitches as I see who the notification belongs to.

Nathan

Speak of the devil.

Nathan - What you doing beautiful?

The text makes me bite my lip nervously, as I don't enjoy compliments. Whether they're based on my appearance or success, they make me feel entitled to uphold them, and sometimes I know I can't.

Tightening the phone in my hands, uncertainty courses through me but I reply knowing he'll suspect the worse if I take too long.

Me - Nothing, just going thru clothes

Sitting my phone down on the table beside my bed, I walk to my closet starting to pull clothes out. While bringing all of my shirts to the front, I'm interrupted by buzzing and look towards the table again.

Once I realize he's trying to FaceTime me, I feel myself freeze before dropping my gaze to the purple tank top loosely wrapped around me. But I know better than to keep him waiting, so I slowly walk towards the phone, answer it then sprint back to my closet hurriedly rummaging to find a shirt.

Butter nugget, I just had them!

"Emma?" He asks gruffily after some time making me bite my lip in frustration as I can't find one

A whirlwind of insecurities start to nip and bite at my skin as the time passes and I start to reminisce on the past.

I used to have an eating problem when I first started middle school and it caused me to weigh around 100 to 110 pounds. And my parents are hushly worried as now I'm almost 18, and my weight still hasn't changed, and to make matters worst, Nathan has also pointed it out regulary.

"Emma!" He growls in a warningly tone and I snap back into reality

I hug myself in the navy blue long sleeve shirt and run to the phone holding it up frantically and plaster a fake smile across my face. A dull ache crashes against my chest in response, but I ignore it, knowing it will only spread if I pay too much attention to it.

"There goes my happy baby. What took you so long?" He questions cheerfully and my gaze meets the carpet not admiring the petname

"I was um... I was finding clothes for school," I stutter hesitantly picking at my brittle nails

"Emma. Let me find out you were cutting," He grits and I tense, sensing his eyes narrowing in on me

Also realizing his tone changed, I quickly reassure him at the same time I'm calling myself foolish.

"I w- wasn't Nathan, I p- promise...," I reply stuttering slowly looking across the floor to distract myself

I haven't cut in about a week and that's the longest I've ever gone. I'm proud of myself for not letting my depression get the best of me, but I wish he was too.

After a few minutes and no reply, I look up to see if he hung up, and when I see those gentle grey orbes that reminds me of a wolf's coat, my favorite animal, I feel like he understands my pain and struggles. But when they change to a darker shade, making me think of a tornado, I remember that we will never share the feeling.

The only thing I've ever wanted was to be someone's escape. Not their prisoner, living in a place I can't. But I guess it goes both ways. As long as I look fine, keeping up with everyone's image, I'm doing my job perfectly.

My job is to protect. Protect my family. Protect my future. Protect Nathan.

To protect me.