Twenty Three.

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A/N: I've lost a lot of readers... If you know anyone who stopped reading because I wasn't updating can you get them back?

I'm really upset... Also people haven't been reading Life With The Wallflowers. I guess that's what I get for not updating, right? :'(

Has my writing got worse? Please be honest I'm going to improve it I'm just kinda heartbroken because I was doing so well and I spent a year getting those readers and now they're gone.

Ugh. I'm just really bummed.

If you're still here thank you so much it honestly means a lot and please don't give up on me ♥

It says a lot when 50 people stop giving a shit about what you do.

Sorry for being depressing... 

*Ebony's POV*

Fucking hell.

His limp body lay in my arms, and I stared at his wounds. Hey, this is why you get good grades in biology. He'll be fine. Physically.

But mentally, I'm really worried about him. I love Alex a lot, and he taught me how to feel emotions. How to connect with people.

And here he is lying limp and bleeding in my arms.

Using all my strength I hauled him over to his bedroom and lay him on his bed. My body started going into overdrive. How could I stop him cutting? I didn't know it was this bad.

I lay watching him for a while. His skin had gone deathly pale and he was completely zonked out. Sighing, I went downstairs. Better let him sleep.

Flopping on the sofa, I felt the stress build in my body.

It was then that I had one of the stupidest ideas I'd ever had.

Alex always says that when he drinks alcohol, he becomes less stressed. Would that work for me? I don't want to get drunk but I just wanna be... Tipsy?

I walked cautiously over to the fridge and picked out a crate of beer. Because I'm so stressed, I probably need to down the whole thing.

That won't make me drunk, right?

You can see I have no idea how alcohol works. I took out the first beer and downed it. The bitter taste made me cringe.

Hey. That's kinda cool. I sat there, waiting. Why didn't I feel any less stressed. Guess I'll have to down the entire crate. Is that okay? Damn, alcohol's a mystery.

I downed all in all six beers. To be honest, I felt a little weird. The world was spinning and my vision wouldn't focus on anything.

Hold on... I didn't feel stressed. Perfect. I stood up to go upstairs to check on Alex. Whoa. My feet felt kinda numb and I definitely wasn't walking in a straight line, but it was hard to tell.

I had to crawl upstairs, giggling to myself. Bursting through Alex's door, I stumbled over and poked him. "Al...ex." I said slowly. "Wake up."

Slowly he turned over and opened his eyes. The beer was setting in by the minute. "Ebby... What's wrong?" Alex asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, dawg." I giggled.

"What? Let me smell your breath." Alex instructed.

"Ew that's weird." I laughed as I let him smell me.

"Oh no... Why'd you drink that fucking much?" Alex gasped.

"I don't know but shh." I chuckled.

To be honest, I don't remember more than that.

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