Teach Me To Behave

26. You Haven't Seen Crazy

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The lids of my eyes felt permanently glued shut. I was aware of my surroundings through my other senses and I could even feel my eyes shift under my lids. It was as if I was awake, but was to afraid to willingly open my eyes. After snoozing in intervals of a minute or two a few times I finally saw light peek through to my vision. I reached horizontally across the bed and tapped my fingers on the ruffled sheets beside me. Justin?

I hoisted myself up instantly, "Justin!?" I called looking around the room drenched in panic. I almost fell off the bed when I tried to get off of it because my foot got tangled in the sheets. I freed myself and made it two steps away from the bed when the bathroom door opened.

"Yeah?" He walked out in black jeans with a towel around his shoulder. He noticed my expression far before I could calm the hell down. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing." I jittered running up to him and pulling his chest against me, "Nothing."

Justin pulls me away from him, "You wanna talk about nothing?" He asked always trying to be one step ahead.

I shook my head, "There's nothing to talk about, it's nothing." I reply walking back over to the bed side table.

When are you going to tell him that you're fucking crazy? Or start of smaller, like say 8 weeks smaller? His fucking baby is inside of you, Mila, what are you doing?

"Mila?" Justin voice rings a vibration in my head. I turn my attention to him. He glares at me for a moment before speaking, "Is that okay with you?" He asked.

"What?"

"I need to go down town and take care of some legal work. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Are you good staying here? Or should I take you to campus with Vicky, Travis, and Joey?" He tones like he's frustrated having to repeat himself.

"I'll go with you-"

"No." He immediately cuts me off. I feel my own expression drop and can only imagine what shade of pale my face is at the moment. Justin gives me a sympathetic look, like he feels bad for me for some reason. "This isn't fair." He remarks. I don't respond. I just look at him with confusion until he continues. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." I repeat.

He slaps his hand to his forehead, "Dammit. Mila, really? You've been acting like someone just let you out of the looney bin for the past 2 weeks. Every time I walk out of the same room as you, you fucking lose it. How can you lie to my face and tell me nothing? I told you everything, every time I was upset you made me talk to you about it, even on a general stand point. And now you can't even tell me what's bothering you? Why I can't step 10 feet away from you without you freaking?" He rants.

I look down and my fiddling fingers. How can I tell him? What can I tell him? I'm even sure what's wrong with me myself. I mean, yeah, I can say I'm afraid of losing you, but that would just turn into a miscommunication. He'd never understand. "You won't understand." I say quietly.

Justin inhales sharply, holds his breath for a moment, and then forcefully breathes out. "How am I suppose to try to understand if you won't talk to me?" I shrug and turn back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. Justin scuffs, "The only one who doesn't understand is you. You don't understand what it's doing to me to see you like this."

"See me like what?" I snap giving away my mask as the tears start forming around the lines of my eyes. Justin's eyes bug out at me. His nose scrunches and he walks over to me, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me to my feet. His grip is so tight it's hurting me, but I don't say anything. He grabs my arm and tries to slide my sleeve upward, I immediately pull away. "Stop!" I yell stepping back from him, but he steps inward with me. "Get away from me." I state pulling my arm against my chest. He grabs me by the waist and puts his hands on the bottom of my comfy sweater. "Justin! Stop! Let go of me!" I scream. He pulls the shirt half way over my head, but it doesn't come off easily with the way I'm fighting. He locks one arm around my waist, with one arm strapped beneath it as well. He grabs the top of my sweatshirt with his other hand and tugs on it as I'm screaming, "GET OFF OF ME!" I cry.