Then and Now: A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter Forty-Two

“You too, Jenny.”

I cringed at her nickname, and headed away from her, and towards the elevator. I just wanted to get to my bed and sleep. The show was tomorrow so it would be filled with press.

“Did you know her?” Lily asked in the elevator.

“Yeah, from school.” I managed to get out, “I’ll see you later.”

I rushed to my room, ignoring the words that Lily shouted after me. I hope that Harry was out with the boys or something. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I unlocked the door, and shut it without another word. My movements felt slow and sluggish, and I felt all the walls I had built up slowly crashing down.

I don’t know how I managed to get to the bathroom and turn the water on. I don’t know how I accomplished stripping off all my clothes and get into the shower. All I knew is that I couldn’t stop crying.

The memories of the vicious taunts rushed back at me, and I sank to the shower floor. The scalding water pounded at my body and I violently shook as I cried.

“You stupid whore.”

 

“Die bitch.”

 

“You don’t deserve to live.”

 

“You fucking slut. I hope you die. The world would be better without you.”

 

The memories mercilessly attacked me, and my body only shook more and more. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, and as the water pounded against my quivering body, it was like I was drowning, both literally and emotionally.

I’m not sure how long I sat in that position, crying until I had no tears left. I was happy with my life right now; I had some amazing friends, and the best boyfriend in the world, and the thought of that all being ripped away from me, just because of some old high school bullies, made me nauseous.

I had spent such a long time building my damaged self-confidence back up, and accepting myself for who I was. I thought I had overcome my past, but as I sat in the shower, the now freezing water hitting my body, I felt broken and confused.

 

It took me a while to drag myself out of the shower, and to pull on some soft pajamas. I felt lost, like I was my high school self again. The bed was calling my name, and despite the early time, I slipped underneath the warm covers, feeling safer.

I faced away from the door, so that if Harry came in, I’d be able to hide my face. I didn’t sleep though; I just stared at the blank wall, wondering what I had done to deserve this. I hated my past; it might have made me stronger, in a way, but there were still days where I hated myself, when I would sit down and just stare at a blank screen for hours, wondering why I didn’t just down a pill bottle and never wake up again. 

I had seen a therapist a few times, and she had explained that my depression could recur over the years; that I could be happy and so painstakingly normal, and then suddenly something would trigger me to fall into depression again. I hated the feeling of being so unlike myself, so sad and worthless.