My New Obsession [BxB]

Chapter Twenty-Five- The World Needs Something Better

 One day I was going to get so tired I would fall asleep and never wake up. One day my heart was going to beat its final beat, my ears would hear the final tick of a final clock, and time itself would cease to exist for me. Most days I woke up and the first question to enter my mind was- would today be the day? The problem was that though there were countless times I’d had that thought, not a single moment felt more appropriate for it all to end than when I woke up the day after Maisy’s funeral.

 There was no beam of sunlight making a break through the blinds and I certainly didn’t wake up in the arms of someone I loved. Instead it was dark when I opened my eyes and my clothes were stuck to me with a cold sweat. I retched as the acrid smell of sick hit my nose. Suddenly I felt so ashamed of myself, lying there on my best friend’s bedroom floor, still a little drunk from the night before with a puddle of my own vomit beside me… Perhaps it was time to admit to myself that I had truly hit rock bottom.

 Standing up proved to be a lot more challenging than I predicted. I was a lot more drunk than my initial self-assessment let me realise, stumbling forwards until I could steady myself against the wall. I pulled the dusty blinds up slowly to let light into the room and came incredibly close to throwing up again when I could see the mess I had made.

 “Jake’s going to freakin’ murder me…” I whispered to no-one.

 Talking to myself- the first sign of madness.

 My skin felt dirty and I fled the gross sight of the room, heading straight to the bathroom to take a shower. After peeling my clothes off and chucking them in a pile on the floor I jumped into the grimy cubicle. The door had to be forced shut and the water came out in a freezing cold dribble but I didn’t have the capacity to care anymore. The water refreshed me slightly but only reached the surface, unable to cleanse me of the real filth that crawled beneath my skin. Crazy thoughts started to rapidly pop into my head and I decided that if it were possible to take my brain out of my skull and put it in the washing machine I would, just to purify it of all the bullshit.

 It didn’t take long for my teeth to begin to chatter. I shut off the tap and kicked the door open. When I reached out to grab my towel I also stepped forward and slipped, no longer able to clutch to my small sense of sobriety. My whole body felt jarred as I hit the floor and my brain began to pound in protest. For a while I lacked the energy to pick myself up but there’s really only so long that you can sit naked on the bathroom floor before you realise that the only way to change the situation is to get up and go. I towelled myself dry and walked back to Jake’s room, preparing myself to make that change.

 My plan for the day was simple. I was going to apologise to my friends, go home and apologise to my mum and then sit down with her and talk about the future. None of that could happen, however, without getting dressed first. Baby steps, I thought. Assuming that my clothes would probably have been packed up along with all my other crap, I started to open up a few boxes, picking them out at random. My hands landed on one that had been taped shut, so I tore it open.

 I felt the confused expression cross my face and my whole body freeze. It took a few moments before my shaking hands could reach out and pick up the leaflet. Trying to read the words was like trying to understand a language you’d never seen before, the letters swimming before my eyes in no kind of order. And then something clicked and they all slowly flew back to the right place. And I wished that they hadn’t.

 After a while of staring at it my fingers released the booklet and I watched it fall to the ground, a sinking feeling consuming me as it did so. I pushed the box off the top of the pile and opened the next one, ignoring what I had seen for now, just for a little while. I threw on the first top I could grab, an old black and red Sex Pistols shirt- and then I just didn’t have enough reason to find a pair of jeans. There was just no point. To anything.