13

ASHLEY

Running.

That was what I was going to do. That was what I had resorted to. I meant that I was going to run in literal terms. I was going to dabble in distractions, things that took my mind off the recent disaster. I was done wallowing in sadness, and if all I had to do was wear a mask over my actual self if that was what it would take to suppress the pain. To suppress self-loathing. The self-disgust.

Then, I'd do it.

After all, that was one thing I was good at doing. Hiding underneath the shell, the perfect shell I have painted for the world to look at. The perfect facade. The one I have worn for years. I was going to hide till it all went away. A big part of me was still hoping it was some dream that I so desperately wanted to wake up from.

What was the perfect definition of a distraction?

Work.

I was going to go to work after two weeks of crying my eyes out. After two weeks of shutting my friends out, Dawn and Ivanna have been blowing up my phone with calls, but I wasn't i