Forbidden: A 1D Fan Fiction

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:

I didn't leave my room all weekend.  I just laid in my bed and cried.  The only person I spoke to was Mary Elise.  She called every day to check up on me.  I was a wreck.  I didn't eat, I didn't sleep much, I didn't do anything.  I didn't even read.  The only thing I read were the text messages that were blowing up my phone.  All from Harry.

Bethany, I wasn't cheating on you with her.  If you could come see me, I can explain.  Please, please talk to me.

I ignored every one of them.  Harry played me and I was left broken and torn again.  I thought I could trust him, but I was wrong.  I couldn't trust anyone, only my family and even then I didn't tell them everything.  I didn't want to tell them.  They didn't need to know.  I was all alone in this world, and no one could change that.  Not now.

 All I felt while I laid in bed was the pain in my heart.  I felt like I had been shot through the heart and then had it ripped out.  It was all my fault.  I had allowed myself to fall in love with him and this was my consequence.  I was heartbroken.  

On Sunday, I had gotten out of my bed and looked at myself in my vanity.  My eyes were still puffy and red from crying all weekend and my hair was a tangled, greasy mess.  I hadn't showered all weekend and hadn't changed out of my baggy tee shirt.  

I decided it was time to take a shower, so I stripped down and walked into the bathroom buck naked.  I turned on the water and jumped into the shower.  I immediately got down on the floor and crawled into a fetal position.  I wrapped my arms around my bare shoulders and buried my knees deep in my chest.  I started to sob again as the water droplets hit my skin.

I had started to get better, accepted what happened.  I thought about what happened at the club numerous times and thought about how it could have been worse.  I could have caught him actually screwing her or having him treat me like he did with Justice.  

My mind wandered to Justice, could the story have been true and Harry just lied to keep me in the dark?  If the story was true, all I could think about was how badly she must have felt.  How much she must have loved him, enough to make her kill herself. 

I started to cry harder and ended gasping for breath because of it.  I kept swallowing water as I tried to take in the air, so I moved my back against the wall.  The wall was slightly damp, but still cold.  I placed my arms bent over my knees and buried my forehead in them.  I got my breathing under control, but tears were still coming.  Hot, wet, salty tears.  You'd think I ran out of them after the first few days.  

I cried for five more minutes and then decided it was time to wash my hair.  I lathered the shampoo through the greasy, tangled, black forest that was my hair until I felt it was clean.  Then I rinsed my hair under the fall of the droplets.  I entangled my fingers within the black strands as they rinsed away the grease and dirt.  Every droplet that fell on my forehead and body felt like a part of my memories were temporarily washed away.

When I finished cleansing myself, I laid on the floor and let the warm kisses of the water pat my skin until they turned cold.  Even when they turned cold, I laid on the floor of the shower for ten minutes.  I felt numb inside, I felt neither cold nor heat.  Physically, yes I felt the temperature, but emotionally I felt nothing.  I was like a bird with a broken wing: broken and having no option but to hide until the wound was mended.

The rest of my Sunday included me washing my sheets and eating a few bites of macaroni.  Sunday was the first time I had ventured out of my room.  My father had gathered what happened and let me have my space.  He knew what it was like and respected my wish to be alone.  As I was putting my spoon in the sink after eating, my father patted my shoulder and kissed my head.