Four days later, I see Peter again.

Him and his mom come into Prescott's Diner around twelve thirty, and Peter clearly hasn't forgotten me, or the night where I defended him. When he comes in with his mom, he giggles and points to me, gesturing to show his mother. She furrows her eyebrows, a quizzical expression plastering over her features. Then, Peter explains further and his mom smiles, making her way over with her son trailing along behind her.

"Hi," she greets, sitting down in front of me. "Are you Charlie?" I nod, fumbling with the side of my apron and watching Peter playing with a Captain America action figure. He seems deeply invested in it, so much that he accidentally bumps into some guy who passes by.

"I'm Peter's mother, Marianne," she introduces, extending her hand for me to shake. I oblige, and then notice Peter has moved around the counter to stand next to me. "I want to thank you for what you did for him," she explains, sounding sincere and grateful. "No one has ever done anything like that for him, so it means a lot." I just stand quietly and nod, not really sure of what to say.

Marianne scratches the back of her head and seems to hesitate. "Um, would you do me a huge enormous favor?" She asks, sounding doubtful as she takes a quick glance at Peter. I raise my eyebrows. "I have to go away this weekend, and I can't take Peter. I have been looking for a babysitter all week and I can't—"

"Say no more," I interrupt, holding a hand up. "I would be happy to babysit him." She smiles and sighs in relief, placing a hand over her chest.

"Thank you," she replies, trying to get Peter to get out from behind the counter. Trying to hide my smile, I ask Marianne is she would like a cup of coffee or something and she shakes her head no, "we're kind of in a rush." I just nod, waving goodbye to Peter and Marianne as they leave. She has to pick him up to get him to go, slinging his leg around her hip and hauling him off towards the door. He waves, mouthing a goodbye to me as he gets caught up in his action figure and disappears from my sight.

I kick a loose pebble, sending it flying off into the distance. I hide my hands in my pockets and continue walking, smiling a little as a squirrel sprints across the trail in front of me.

I got the rest of the day off. Gary and Jason said that I have been doing great at the restaurant so far, and that I am due a short day. I was sluggish all the rest of the day for no appearing reason, and pretended like I was tired, which my coworkers bought. They sent me home to sleep, except I didn't go home. I stopped off at Jake's Rocks, the series of trails that go through the woods, that are cluttered with enormous twenty feet tall rocks cluttered here and there.

It's really beautiful to walk around in here. Every now and then I see a kid or two with their parents, so I smile and nod and continue walking, observing the atmosphere. I love the smell of the leaves and trees, the sound of birds chirping, and the marvelous shade that the canopy of trees above provide for me and all the small critters on the ground.

You could say that I'm a sucker for animals and nature. I have loved animals since I can remember, all different kinds. When my mom said I couldn't get a dog for my twelfth birthday, I locked myself in my room and cried for about three days, and twelve year olds don't cry.

And nature is something that has always fascinated me. It is so peaceful and quiet and beautiful. I have never taken it for granted; every time I have felt low, at home at least, I would walk through the woods down the road from our house, and take the quiet stillness to my advantage, using the woods as my escape from other people. It works too, I feels like I have all the time in the world to work out my problems, and that maybe there's some hope left for me after all.

This time, though, it's different. As I'm sitting against a tree, my legs pulled up to my chest as I gaze off into the distance, I hear a voice behind me, a barely recognizable one that draws me out of my thoughts.

"Look, it's the joker that tried to beat me up," says the bully, as him and his flock of lemmings move to stand in front of me, staring down at me. The bruise is barely visible on his left cheek, but it's still there. "You gonna punch me again?" I don't answer, just ignore him and turn my head to the side, watching a squirrel off in the distance.

"Maybe she's stupid, like Peter," one of the lemmings says under his breath, causing me to jerk my head in their direction, giving them a cold glare. I do not like them talking about Peter that way, or any way. I just want them to leave me alone. "Are you stupid?" The lemming asks, and when I don't answer, they all snicker under their breaths, pounding my self esteem into the ground. My silence will provoke them, and I have no doubt that whatever I say will just result in more provoking. So what do I do?

"Leave me alone," is all that comes out, and I cringe when it comes out small and weak. They laugh again, noticing my vulnerability.

"Aw, she's gonna cry," one of them says, and I am taken aback, wondering how a group of teenage boys could be such assholes. "Are you gonna cry?" He adds in a mocking tone, rubbing at his face dramatically. "God, does your boyfriend know how pathetic you are?" I grit my teeth, swallowing thickly and trying my best to ignore it, but it's hard to, especially when I know he's right. All this bully has done is give a face to the monster in my head, the one that whispers negative things in my ear night and day.

I ignore them, and after a while they finally go away.

Jason will find out about this somehow, and when he does, he will stop seeing me. I've been trying to hide it since I got here, but now it's getting harder, and my stress and pain is starting to show; I have no doubt that someone is getting suspicious by now. I keep denying it, though I know it's true. I hate this, getting up every morning and dreading the day to come, fearing social situations and people, and eager to get back to my room and lock the door. It has become a routine of mine, an unhealthy one, and I really need to tell someone about it.

Since I got here, I have had this little thought pushed to the back of my mind, one where I could confide in Jared, tell him what's wrong, and he would help me just like that, because he kind of knows what this is like, and he has a strong desire to help other people with these problems.

But I can't. I feel like I'm already too much trouble, what with my disappearing from the house all the time, sneaking out and not letting anyone know where I'm going. This must annoy them, but I try to make up for that by not having used their money since I bought the basketball hoop. I also try to talk to them less than I did when I got here, not because I don't like to, but because I figure I'm boring, and I am doing them a favor by being quiet and isolated all the time.

I don't have to worry about Jason finding out, because I am a completely different person around him, one that isn't a broken mess of irrelevant emotions and feelings. Around him, I am confident and collected, and I can usually keep my thoughts from wandering too far.

Soon I'll have a breakdown and do something really stupid and reckless, shattering any chance I have at starting over again.