Dépaysement (h.s)

48

But it's not the whole world that's crumbling—it's just mine.

I set the pen down in my journal that's sat against my bent knees and close the book.

Gazing my eyes to the left lays Harry's sleeping body, he's lying on his stomach with his head turned away from me and towards the windows. The dark night creeps through the open curtains but the stars shine bright in the sky.

I take a deep breath and check the clock beside me on the night stand. 2:00am.

I cross my arms over my stomach and lean my head against the headboard—shutting my eyes and focusing on Harry's loud breathing to match mine to his.

Sitting in the same position for god knows how long, I open my eyes again and groan in frustration. I dangle my feet off of the bed before turning around to Harry to see him peacefully sleeping and I smile at the sight.

I push myself off the bed to stand up and quietly walk towards the bathroom door.

Flicking the light on once I enter, the bright light makes my eyes squint. I walk over to the sink and turn the water on. I feel the cold water with my finger first before cupping it in my hands and splashing it on my face.

The coldness makes me exhale a breath as a reaction.

Do it.

I open my eyes and look at myself in the mirror in confusion.

Am I hearing things?

Do it.

The voice repeats again. I turn around and scan the bathroom.

You know you want to.

My eyes widen, recognizing that voice in my head. "No no no go away. Please not right now." I whisper and put my hands over my ears.

You said it yourself. Guilt is eating at you. So fix it.

I take my hands off my ears and turn back around to my reflection, "I'm not doing that. You're not getting to me this time."

It won't get better until you do what needs to be done. Just get it over with.

My chest starts rising and falling in a fast manner. I can't breathe. "Please just go away." I plead.

I never left. I've always been here, stuck in your head and reminding you of what you've done.

I shake my head with my eyes pinched shut, "I didn't mean to do it." I grip the counter for reassurance that I'm not dreaming.

We both know that's a lie. You did it to save yourself, you're selfish. Do it!

It screams at me—surrounding my ears and filling the entire bathroom.

I flinch at the loud screeching voice inside my head telling me what I need to do.

My hands shake as they grip the counter as hard as they can making my knuckles turn white. A drip of wetness falls on my fingers—I look up at the mirror only to realize that I'm crying.