President Perfect // DNF

Chapter 13

A/N Don't do drugs kids. 

I'm being serious. Don't touch them, Don't look at them, Don't think about them... JUST PRETEND THEY DON'T EXIST... IN FACT, THEY DON'T EXIST FOR YOU,  GOT IT!?

TWS: Drug use, Needles (Yuck) 

Don't be George. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

George did everything in his power to drown out the deafening noise of the several students yelling over his professor's lecture. The mixed voice forced an all too familiar ringing within his ears, aching his head that he had planted on his arms. The class had completed their history exam several minutes early, leading the overly chatty class to bombard the teacher with their worries on their inability to answer the questions. George was certain he had aced the test. His head leaned against his desk, his arms forming a makeshift pillow, he was desperate for sleep through his over-exhausted and beat mind. 

Sleeping in a class full of bickering students and unnecessary noises wasn't ideal, but he couldn't risk his grade and skip the test. The feeling of thousands of weights against his head forced his eyes into a tight close. 

"Mr. Davidson!" A voice called, it seemed to echo through his mind, yet he made no effort to pay any mind to the voice. 

"GEORGE!" A sudden tap against his head forced his eyes to meet the figure before him. His eyes forcibly blinking in an attempt to focus on the professor before him. 

"No sleeping in my class, I need your planning paper" The teacher sighs, George plants the paper onto the teacher's hand, rolling his eyes at the double-take on his appearance. 

George had the constant feeling to isolate himself from the world, he had the constant want for silence, the constant chase for the high he had forced himself into each day. But the walls around him seemed to collapse around him, trapping him In the constant race against time, the constant battle of his mind, he wanted to get better, he wanted to be with the group but he didn't want to risk feeling the pain again, he didn't want to get hurt again. The scariest thought was the realization that he had isolated himself mentally, drawing himself out of the world and into a makeshift room of darkness, an empty room that allowed his mind to be calm and empty, forcing peace amongst his body for the temporary escape of his life. He was internally screaming, begging to fix what had happened, desperately clawing at his brain to escape the hold his negative thoughts held. He was in his own world he deemed perfection. It was a world of ignorance and bliss, he had no addiction, he had no mental illness. It was perfectly silent and his mind could finally rest. The consistent drowsiness and cramps through his stomach broke his train of thought, drawing him from his world of deemed perfection. Falling right back into his emotionally numb and high body. The neverending headache begging him to stop the use of the drugs, begging him to fix his behavior and ask for help. His brain clawed at the thought of getting help because even though he was far from admitting it, he needed it. He needed to break back into the real world, where he was now was killing him. Slowly but surely killing him from the inside out. 

THE NEXT DAY

The loud bell draws his eyes around the room, settling on Clays, the word fumbles around him as he mentally curses at himself for holding the contact, his eyes fall to the floor before pulling his hands to meet, his hands appeared shredded, after months of picking at the tight grip skin around his calloused and scarred fingers they were brutally mauled. For the first time in weeks, he was sober, he had forced himself to refrain from the drugs he had grown addicted to, He was on his own and that meant his grades had to stay where they were, he had to keep a consistent good mark if he wanted a chance at having a future. Even through the harsh trembling in his numb and aching hands, he completed the assignment early, forcing his thoughts to circle back to the blonde whose eyes trained to George the second he finished his assignment, the burning feeling shot through Georges body, forcing his eyes to remain on his hands, eyes refusing to meet the green eyes he'd be forced to forgive.

You overreacted

You lost the only people who ever loved you

The love was fake

The love was real

Fake

Real

FAKE

REAL

DING!!

George quickly gathers his notes, dropping his complete test onto the teachers' desk before storming through the halls, racing to his car to return to the small hotel room he was forced to call home. His restraint from drugs didn't last long, the ringing and ache in his head were enough to force his mind back to the meds. The consistent on edge feeling and unbearable anxiety seemed to fade as the sharp metal pierced into George's hip, injecting the clear liquid into his body, allowing it to pulsate through his veins before falling flat onto his bed, allowing the soft cushions and comforting blankets to absorb him. The world around him fell black, a euphoric numbness rushing through his body as his mind was finally forced to a halt. He no longer felt the ache through his entire body, it was replaced with a euphoric and calming high that made the entire world swirl into a bliss. His eyes finally fall shut, his mind secretly hoping he wouldn't wake up. Hoping they'd remain shut forever. Hoping the nightmare would finally come to an end. But that was just wishful thinking...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

DONT DO DRUGS KIDS 

Yes, I'm gonna repeat that every time drugas are involved in this book. 

HOW WE FEELIN KIDS? -------> 

AnYwAys. Um... 

WHAT IS YOUR FAVE FOOD? -----> 

MORE KARLNAP CONTENT SOON? ------> 

MUCH LOVE AND HAPPY READING <3