At Midnight

Chapter 31

It was still awkward whenever Ashton claimed that he loved me from time to time, at the most random moments. Nonetheless, we hanged out as much as we used to even though he would stare at me longingly when he thought I wouldn't notice.

I still treated him as a friend and he understood that and respected my decision. Nothing had changed between us except for some unexpected moments when he would do something that stepped over the line of the 'just friends' boundary.

And it was just another ordinary day today. Ashton came over after his schooling hours at home and we were watching a movie on the couch, just lazing around with popcorn scattered everywhere. He was the only one eating it – less of eating, more of throwing them at me.

" You know, you're cleaning this up." I said, pointing at the floor littered with popcorn.

He got up from the cushioned chair beside the sofa and joined me on the couch, planting the huge bowl of popcorn in between us. " You know, you could have bothered to take a shower before I came over." He shot back.

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. It looked like I was the ambassador of the homeless people community. I smelled like cheap perfume and my hair was untangled and extremely frizzy. Baggy clothes hung off my shoulders and my nails were chipped, probably due to my excessive nail biting habit. And of course, to complete the requirements of being the most disgusting person you could ever meet on planet Earth, scratch that, the universe, my breath reeked of expired gin and nicotine.

I scowled at him. " Sue me."

I hadn't taken notice or cared about my appearance considering the fact that I was a complete and utter emotional wreck the previous night. My eyes were still puffy and red and the amount of eye bags under each other didn't help either. I had been having more breakdowns recently and frankly, I was too tired to care.

Why fight a war you were never going to win?

And on top of that, my attitude and manners were going down the drain too. Constantly having more mood swings resulted in more rash actions. I was hardly sober and spent most of my nights at bars and pubs. Javier and Ashton took shifts now, picking out which days of the week they were free to chauffer me home safely.

I guessed Javier picked up some things about me during those nights where I rambled on about how miserable I am. He didn't confront me, though. But there was always a certain sadness that followed him whenever he saw me.

Things were getting so much worse lately. And I was glad that Uncle Charlie's schedule was packed which meant less visits and less worried faces I'd have to meet.

The voices in my head were getting louder and I had no clue how to drown them out. I didn't know why I was freaking out about the smallest of matters, like how the books in my cabinet weren't placed neatly in a straight row, or how Ashton's biology notes weren't color coordinated. It didn't matter but I could feel myself getting more anxious and I kept dwelling on such mundane and stupid things.

I didn't know which was worse – crying or not being able to cry. I was just so sick and tired of not being able to control my own emotions, I know it is all in my head and that was what made me feel worse about myself. If it was all in my head, why couldn't I stop it?

It felt like I was drowning and there was no way out. That there's no air and you want, no, need, oxygen but you can't have any. Everything was so overwhelming.

I never really understood why people drowned themselves in alcohol and cigarettes and drugs, until now. I felt so upset with myself for so many reasons. All I wanted was for all of this to come to an end. Was that too much to ask for?

I couldn't tell anyone either. They wouldn't understand and to tell you the truth, I didn't understand too. Also, I didn't want to put extra weight on their shoulders and I didn't want them to think I was a freak and leave. After all, I was always easy to leave.

Ashton must have noticed how my face changed because the next thing I knew; he grabbed my hand and placed it into his strong ones. " You wanna talk about it?" He asked, even though he knew the answer was a straight up no, he still tried.

I shook my head and shrugged it off. Retracting my hands from his, I returned my focus to whatever that was playing on the television. It might have just been my imagination when I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. I loathed how he always did that – it was like he was assuming the role of a psychologist. I just wanted him to be my friend, not a professional questioning my mental state.

I took a handful of popcorn and chewed on it slowly. " You have to stop biting your nails." He studied my hand as I reached out for another handful of popcorn.

" It'll grow back." I shrugged.

I heard him heave a loud sigh. " You've been getting nervous a lot haven't you? The attacks too."

" I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned innocence.

" Your hands are raw. You must've been playing with the rope again. And biting your nails is something new. You only do that when you're nervous." He stated, not bothering to hide the worry etched in his tone. " Why didn't you tell me? Or Javier?"

" Its no big deal." I said with annoyance.

" But it is, I know how a lot of people see anxiety disorder but have Javier and I not proved to be different than them? We care and we're trying to understand you, Mia." He claimed.

I visibly flinched at the mention of the word 'disorder'. He knew how sensitive I was to that word. In fact, I hated it, detested it. It made me feel as if there was something wrong with me, that I wasn't normal and that I should be detested too since I was associated with that word.

" Maybe you'll leave when it gets tougher." I spat out. " They always do." I murmured under my breath, making sure that he wouldn't have heard my last few words.

But of course this was Ashton we were talking about, and he had supersonic hearing of some sort. " We are... I am not like them. I care."

" That's what they all say before they block your number and disappear into thin air, leaving you hanging and wishing for them to come back and regretting, god, that you weren't so stupid to open up to them because the real you was what they were afraid of, because the real you was too much to handle, because the real you was disgusting." I paused.

" Why do you think I stay away from everyone at school? They have tried to talk to me you know. But I push them away. I wasn't always a loner, Ash." I sighed.

" What changed you?" He asked.

My fingers played with the thinning threads at the hem of my sweatshirt. Revisiting those memories were always the hardest for me. I sighed and took a deep breath, mustering all the courage I had. " People." I shrugged nonchalantly even though I could feel my heart breaking into millions of pieces. " They fuck you up and then they leave."

" Why do you smoke?" He looked at the ashtray filled with burnt cigarettes on the coffee table. I hadn't taken the time to clear the overflowing ash that had already spilled out on the tabletop.

" To feel something." I said. " And to forget."