Make Me Believe

I Was Wrong.

When I woke up, I was half on the couch and half off of the couch.

I sat up and looked behind me at Derek's bed. He wasn't on it. Instead of getting up and freaking out because I didn't know where he was, I just assumed he was just in the shower. After a while of just sitting there and listening, I could hear the water from the shower running and I knew I was right.

I sighed and leaned back against the couch. I winced as pain shot through my side and my leg, when it brushed up against the couch. I looked down and realized that I still had a cut on both my torso and my leg. My torso didn't look any different, except for the fact that it had started to bleed again, but the cut on my leg wasn't as bad as it was the night before.

It looks like it had started to heal...

My hand came up to my cheek to find nothing. Quickly standing up, I grabbed onto the armrest of the couch because my vision became cloudy and my balance was gone for a moment.

When I was good again, I moved to his dresser that had a mirror above it, and looked into it. There was nothing on my cheek.

How? There was a cut on my face last night!

My fingers traced the imaginary line that would have been the cut.

Suddenly the door opened and Derek walked out with only a towel on. I turned and faced him, surprised. I stood there, my mouth open, trying to find the right words to say. But nothing came to mind.

What was I supposed to say? That I'm sorry? That I'm an idiot for believing the only family I have left? That I almost got him killed, 'almost'? Or maybe that I had saved his life after I had tried to end it.

I shut my mouth and just stared at him. His gaze bore into me, leaving holes in my soul, and filling the emptiness of them with guilt.

'Maybe he could forgive me. Maybe he didn't remember. ' I thought.

My gaze averted to the ground. I was too ashamed of what I had done to him to even look at him.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, and took a step back.

"Why are you in my room?" was all he said in reply.

"I-I wanted to make sure that they didn't come after u... you." I explained and glanced up at him.

His face showed no emotion what so ever.

"I am going to go now that you're awake." I said and backed towards the door.

He didn't move one bit, so I turned my back to him and turned the knob of the door and walked out into the cold hallway.

I made my way to my room and quickly hut the door behind me. Pressing my back to the inside of the door and sliding down to the floor, I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped one arm around them while my other hand came up to cover my mouth, in a failed attempt to stifle the strained sounds that came out from trying to keep hold of my emotions.

The tears broke the barrier I was trying to put up and slipped down my cheeks. My whole body started to shake and I couldn't control myself.

I got up quickly, throwing his jacket at the wall and stumbled across the room, hitting the dresser. The mirror fell and shattered on the floor. I fell into the shards, and felt the glass rip through the skin on my legs and arms.

I lay in the glass, on my side, curled into a ball, letting all my tears create a puddle on the floor.

It was useless to try and wipe them away because new trails appeared as soon as I wiped the old ones away.

Derek hates me. He hates me and never wants to see or talk to me again.

I lay there in the glass shards that represented my life.

Shattered into a million pieces because of one choice.

One mistake.

I thought he could forgive me. That he could just forget that it ever happened along with me.

How wrong was I?
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