Enchanted by you

Chapter 2.

Greyson Vinson*•.

( back at his apartment hours ago)

"I ship you, guys." I hear Sebastian say as I close the door and go to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.

"Shut up," I say, not wanting to hear all his romantic thoughts about me and Lydia.

"You're so rude and for what?" He says while entering the kitchen while rolling his eyes sarcastically.

"Well, you should had get used to it by now."

"Whatever, you grumpy face."

"Don't call me that."

"Or what?"

"You're childish."

"And you're like an elder man."

He leaves the kitchen and I just roll my eyes, Lydia was here minutes ago, and her amazing perfume still fucking lives here.

I never expected that I would even consider Lydia as one of the people that I actually feel comfortable with, even if I know her for a few hours.

She's kind. She's beautiful. But she's too good for me. I need to stop myself for even thinking about her.

I have my own fucked up issues. I can't be a burden.

I sit up and go to my room, while Sebastian is sitting in the living room watching Tv. I close the door behind me and close all the lights. I need to feel any feeling of comfort.

I turn on some music, trying to forget about my problems. Trying to escape. I can't help it but still want to do something bad to myself to stop me from hurting. But I need to have control. Because maybe I don't deserve the pain I have.

Or maybe I do.

I lay in my bed and just look at the ceiling. And my tears can't stop falling from my eyes. It's impossible to stop them.

I feel numb pain. My stomach hurts. My brain hurts.
Everything hurts.

I wish I could just end all the pain I'm feeling. More than anything. Or even to open up to someone. Just in case it helps. But people once they hear your story, they leave. Every person that I thought that it was important in my life, they ended up leaving.

And I promised to never make the same mistake again.

Its better own your own, you don't rely on anyone. So you're never disappointed.

But I can't help it.
I grab the knife from under my bed.

I look at it and I flinch. Only the thought hurts.

I feel so awful that I'm sorry for my own self.
Sorry that I ended up doing that every time to escape from the real pain.

I sit down on the floor and just continue to watch the knife, and I continue to just cry. Nothing more.

Then I drop it. I'm shaking as I just keep drowning at my own pool of sadness and despair.

I feel helpless.
I feel worthless.
I feel miserable.

But I deserve to feel that way. Everything that happened was my fault.

All. My. Fault.

"I miss you, Em." I let out through the tears as I watch my sister's picture.

"I'm so sorry."

I quickly throw the picture down so I won't feel any more sadness overwhelming me, attacking me.

I get up, wipe my tears, and take a deep breath.