After The End: Book 1

10. How things are supposed to be....

Harry's POV

I was not doing well. I knew that much for sure. Ever day was like trying to hold myself together with duct tape and glue.

Craving drugs was a feeling I'd been accustomed to for years. It was a sensation like no other. My skin felt like it was attached to a magnet, pulling me in the direction of substances I couldn't see. It was in the back of my mind, all of the time. Even when I was using, I could feel it after every hour. Now, it was constant and unrelenting.

Then, those thoughts were complicated by the others. The maybe I should kill myself, thoughts that came at random with no warning. I knew I was depressed. I knew that it was not a lucid or even wanted thought. I knew that the intense and random sadnesses I was experiencing was artificially created by my brain. It was an imbalance of chemicals and hormones as my secondary school teacher had said. That knowledge didn't help it be any less intense to fight off.

I was dealing with it poorly and it was truly a cycle. I couldn't take my meds. I was scared that if I even looked at them I would down the whole bottle. I knew I'd have no self control. The same way I had no self control when it came to the drinking.

The thoughts kept me up at night. I couldn't sleep. I could barely get out of bed. My personal hygiene was becoming noticeably worrisome. Then I realized alcohol would put me to sleep. My first thought had been to take a shot the same way colicky children might take a cup of sleep syrup. But as soon as I had the bottle I was a menace. Every single time. Then I wouldn't leave bed until I had no choice again.

I thought maybe if I acted like things were normal, they would start to feel normal. It didn't really help, but I spent more time in the living room with Louis. With Naomi missing in action, he had all the time in the world to dote after me. It was annoying at best, but it made me shower more and he wouldn't let me lay in bed all day.

I thought the party would help me put on the normal ruse. I was pretty great at parties. Or at the very least I had used to be. My parties were the best. I was a party legend.

Now, under the watchful and concerned eye of Louis, not so much. There's just something about being sober and throwing a party that don't mix. Almost sober.

"Jesus Harry! That's like your third shot in the last hour!" Louis scorned as I picked up the bottle. I set it back down without tipping it back like I'd intended. He was watching me even closer today. He'd made me shower and shave. He had laid out clean clothes for me that actually belonged to me again but I'd swapped the t-shirt for one of his sweaters.

Before responding, I rubbed my eyes and fiddled with the 'Happy Birthday' banner that I was supposed to be putting up. Our flat had balloons and streamers everywhere like a child's birthday. The coffee table was littered with various alcohols. One Direction liked to drink. And the 3 remaining members were the only ones who had agreed to come to my party, aside from Naomi. With limited contact, Louis thought it best not to even invite her hot roommate. I'd avoided the bartender because we couldn't agree on which one to invite.

"Sorry," I finally muttered. I fiddled with my sleeves, pulling them down to my palms.

Louis looked at me. I knew he could tell how nervous I was. He hadn't even mentioned when I'd stolen his sweater.  One Direction hadn't really had a positive experience saying goodbye and this idea of being social was wholly idiotic. Niall still talked to me occasionally, though never about anything important, and Liam was never unfriendly although he didn't call. Zayn hadn't spoken to me since the 'event.' I guess I could understand why. I just remembered how having all of them had helped so much the last time I'd gotten sober and I thought maybe that would snap me out of all of this. It wouldn't, but I was running out of ideas and Louis was becoming suspicious that I wasn't being honest about what I was going through,