Relapse / / h.s.

Chapter Seven.

It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. I hadn't moved from the couch once. I hadn't done that much lately, even more so now than usual. The last couple of days seemed to have been a blur. I woke up, went to the station, and kept myself busy until it was time to go home again.

This was the conclusion of the bowling ball effect. It happened every time. I'd melt down and spend the next few days in the black out stage, wallowing in my own self pity and hate for the rest of the world When I was like this, I could barely tell you what my own first name was, let alone be able to do anything more than what was expected of me. I hadn't seen Her in days. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever see Her again.

I woke to a knock on the door. I lay there, wondering if maybe I could zone it out, the person behind the door would leave.

"Harry!" She called through the door, twisting the knob over and over even though it was locked. Knowing her, she wouldn't go away. "Harry! Dammit! I know you're in there! Open the door!"

I somehow managed to pull myself off the sofa, not feeling my legs move as I made my way to the door. I wore my blanket around my shoulders like a cape. She was just getting ready to bang on the door again when I opened it. She shoved her way through as soon as she was sure I wouldn't try and stop her.

"God," she nagged, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears as she stood overlooking the flat with her hands on her hips. A black heavy-duty trash bag hung out of the back pocket of her skinny jeans. "This place is a mess."

"Nice to see you too, Amelia," I sighed. Amelia pranced over to the coffee table, picking up empty cans of beer with clear disgust on her face.

"Glad to see that even when you've lost your damn mind you still keep your wit," she rolled her eyes, picking a pizza box up off the floor. I couldn't tell you when it was from because I didn't even remember the last time I'd eaten.

"Okay, really?" She asked, scrunching her nose up as she dared open the box. "This is disgusting."

I pointed to the door. "You could always leave." She shot me a glare and I shrugged before throwing myself back on the couch and wrapping myself in the blanket again. "I'm just saying."

"Ashton told me this place was a disaster," she collected all the cans from the table and dropped them into the garbage bag. "This is how you get bugs, Harry. Come on."

I tried my best to ignore the way my chest seemed to tighten when she said Ashton's name. "You've been hanging out with Ashton?"

"He's my boyfriend's friend," she defended herself. Amelia didn't come around much anymore, which I guess I could understand. She always tried so hard to make everything okay, and once she realized I couldn't be fixed she sort of gave up on me. Maybe that was a little over dramatic, but that's what it seemed like. She still came around every so often to check on me, but not nearly enough as before. Out of all my friends, she was the only person I actually felt attached to anymore.

"We all hang out together," she scrunched up her nose as she picked napkins off the floor. "We've been calling for days. I'm the one who volunteered to come make sure you weren't dead in here."

"Well I'm not," I sighed, running my hands through my greasy hair. When was the last time I'd showered? " so you can leave now. Make sure to tell everyone I said hello."

"Or you could tell them yourself," she shrugged. "Turn on your phone and give everyone a call. I'm sure they'd love to hear from you."

"Eh," I shook my head. "No thanks."

She stopped her frenzied cleaning to look at me. She pursed her lips and bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"How long has it been since you've changed your clothes?" She wondered. But she didn't ask in a malicious way. She wasn't accusing me. She sounded sort of sad.

"I changed after I got home from work." Which was yesterday, but she didn't need to know specifics.

"Oh right," She nodded. "Ashton told me you'd somehow gotten your job back."

"He's right," I said smugly.

Amelia was quiet for awhile, picking up trash that cluttered the floor. I don't know when it got this messy. I had a habit of just throwing things wherever when I was done with them.

"Did you know I graduated last week?" She said finally, tying up the bag and laying it against the sofa. Then she began to organize, picking every little thing up from the coffee table and putting it together.

"Did you?" I wondered. Was it already time for graduation?

"Yeah," she nodded. "I invited you."

I couldn't remember ever opening an invitation. She was probably just trying to make me feel guilty. "No you didn't."

She picked up one envelope in a sea of many off the table. It was still sealed, untouched. On the front was her obnoxiously neat handwriting.

"Okay," I sighed. "Maybe you did. Sorry I missed it."

"I don't care that you missed it. I care that you didn't even bother to open it. You haven't bothered to open any of this or clean your apartment or do anything productive."

"Hey," I whined. "I go to work. I have a job."

"That's not enough."

I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. The thing about Amelia was that she wasn't afraid to put me in my place. She never had been. Right now, I needed that the most. I needed her to tell me I was being a fuck up because God only knows everyone else was too afraid to do it. Amelia was brutally honest with me and I respected her for it.

"I know it's tough, Haz," she plopped down beside me, so close that her thigh touched mine and her arm brushed against mine as she settled into the couch. "She was my best friend, I miss her more than anything, But at some point you just need to throw yourself back into your life."

"I don't think I know how to do that." I'd been keeping myself locked up for so long, I didn't know if I could ever be able to be me again. I didn't know if I wanted to.

She shrugged her bony shoulders. "Well for starters, you need to get out of this awful apartment. I'm throwing my graduation party on Saturday. You should come."

"I don't know..." The idea of a party-the idea of being somewhere with actual people made my heart race.

"There won't be that many people there, Haz. Just think about it," she smiled, and then made me feel guilty by saying, "it's what she would have wanted."

It was a low blow, but I knew she was right.

"All right," I sighed. "I'll go to your stupid party."

She smiled her deviously brilliant smile. "Good. I'll see you Saturday. Eight o'clock. You better not flake out on me or so help me I will drag your ass there myself."

A/N

... I just really love Amelia's character. She's one of my absolute favorite's to write.

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