Chapter 7:
It’s been three days since that argument with Emily on the phone. I went to school, didn’t say a word to anyone and sat there and took my exams. When I went home, I would sit in my room, mostly on Tumblr and Twitter and just day dreaming about how much better my life could be. I received more and more texts from Emily, and yesterday I started to get some from a new number in addition to the others. They said the usual stuff, but it still hurts hearing it. I cut myself at least once a day, almost one for every text.
I was home today, on Friday since I had finished all of my midterms so I had a day off. I slept the latest I have this week, waking up at a record breaking 9 AM. I got in the shower for the first time in two days and let the water and steam take over my mindset for the next twenty minutes.
I got out of the shower and put on leggings and a huge sweatshirt, my usual choice of clothing for the past week. I have made no effort at all to make myself look decent in the past few days at all. I decided that today would be a good day to go to the shop to pick up some food, even though I don’t eat, I figured I’d buy something. I left the house bringing some cash and headed off to the town square. While making my journey, I received dirty looks from people young and old. The elderly people and young children looked at me like I was some sort of zombie, which was essentially how I felt. I looked like one, I had no emotions anymore, and I was just so tired. Tired of everything. Then there were the kids that were a little younger than me, the ones my age and the ones a few years older. They looked at me with disgust. Emily had spread these rumors all over campus, so now everyone new my “secrets”.
I picked up a few things at the store, PopTarts, strawberries, candy the usual things that make me feel better. I also took a little trip to the alcohol store, picked up some favorites to prepare for the long night ahead.
I got home and by that time it was already 1, since I had left the house at around 11. I sat down on the couch and decided to watch some television. I was flipping through the channels when I put on ITV2 and One Direction’s “A Year In The Making” was on, and I obviously settled on that. A little viewing of Louis could probably cheer me up, he was pretty much my only hope at this point. As the video progressed, I laughed along at the funny parts, cried when there was sadness, and got that happy feeling whenever Louis reappeared on the screen. It’s almost like magic that I can just see this boy, that I don’t even know and he can just change my mood so automatically. That happiness is soon lost when I realize how my world can revolve around him, but I’m just another face in the crowd, one in a million.
The video ended and I grabbed a PopTart for dinner, something I hadn’t eaten in a while, both PopTarts and dinner. I brought the PopTart upstairs along with the vodka I had previously purchased at the store and trudged into my room, taking swigs from the bottle as I walked. I got to my room and sat down on my bed when I checked my phone for almost the second time all day, noticing the 5 new text messages I had received. They were all hate messages, calling me a whore, talking about how everyone hates me, how I should kill myself, and how no one would care if I died. Then the last one I opened,
“I bet your crying your eyes out. Cry
all you want, everyone knows you’re
a whore. Nobody even wants to come
near you now because they’re scared
you might get them infected, Why
can’t you just accept the fact you’re a
little fucking whore who can’t keep her
legs closed and mouth shut?”
This brought that mood way back down, below where it was before. I don’t know if it was the alcohol doing this to me, or just the fact that I was breaking, but I started to agree that no one wants me here. I agree with how I should kill myself, how no one would care. I sat on my bed for the next few hours crying, thinking, posting on Tumblr and Twitter how I was going to end this once and for all, and I sure plan too.
