Demons x Malum

thirty two •

friday, march 13, 2015

thirty two •

the leather of the steering wheel chills my heated forehead, sending shivers down my spine. I sit up, looking into the rear view mirror and cringing at the sight. the bags under my eyes continue to grow a more prominent gray, my skin pales to almost match ashton's semi-tan skin, and my cheeks grow thinner each second. my body feels weaker each passing movement, and my once heavy appetite wears to a mere anorexic diet. I know I look unhealthy, I feel unhealthy, but it's hard to feel anything when your universe continues to throw meteors at you each step you take.

first, I lost the best thing that's ever happened to me- michael, and I have no idea how to get him back. second, i undoubtedly promised to help whitney out with her pregnancy which continues to damage my sanity. third, coach chats with me on a daily basis to clean up my new profound attitude and my lack of comprehensive ability on his orders while playing on the field. and I'm slowly but surely losing my best friend- i don't know how to stop this ever lasting spiral of misfortunes that will without a doubt kill off the last of my sanity.

my phone dings twice, a sure sign of another nagging person to chip away at my failing soul.

luke: wanna hang tonight?

luke: I kinda figured that we could just chill at my house tonight, play some video game, or maybe head to a party. we haven't hung in a while, and I miss my best friend :/

me: idrk, I've got to practice some more and catch up on sleep. maybe tomorrow?

luke: you can't be serious calum. you literally look like a walking corpse, and just because you don't sit with us at lunch doesn't me I don't see you NOT EATING. your over working yourself, senior year stress is getting to you. you need focus on curing yourself calum, it's unhealthy.

me: I can't lose my scholarship.

luke: yeah well sorry to burst your bubble, but your going to fücking lose it if you keep doing this to yourself. your not eating right, your over working out, like who tf wants a skeleton on their team? you clearly have too much on your mind that you can't even focus on soccer.

luke: have you thought about the reason you all the sudden suck? like maybe your drowning in this stress of michael, whitney, and soccer that maybe it's damaging not only your health but your skills.

just reading his name hurts my chest.

me: I'll talk to you later, luke.

luke: calum thomas hood, you are my best friend and I'm not going to have you treat yourself like shït.

I read his message, and turn my phone off for I do not need to read such things. he's feeding me lies, right? what I'm doing is perfectly fine. this scholarship is all I have that will get me to college, who cares if I lose a couple pounds on the way.

+++

"calum, honey? dinners done." my mothers soft voice vibrates off the insulation, making her voice at the top of the stairs louder than usual. the constant sound of an explosion, or him shooting is not loud enough to play off the fact that I had not heard her, therefore I will be forced to eat a meal I have no appetite for.

"calum, come eat."

"I'm not hungry." I gruffly reply, rolling my eyes and making no movement to stand from my spot on the couch.

"you haven't been hungry in days, just eat an apple or something." my mother pleads, still not bothering to descend the staircase.

"I don't feel like it."

"calum, all you've been doing is playing soccer, sleeping, and playing these video games."

"so?"

"it's unhealthy."

"goddammit," I yell, forcing my arms to lift my asś off the couch, and stomp my way to the stairs. "all I fücking hear now a days is how unhealthy I'm living. how I'm not fulfilling my bodies nutrients levels, and how I'm treating my body unfairly. news flash! I don't give a fück. I'm going to be going off to college in a few months and leave everything behind. I don't need anyone." it was then that I saw all the looks on my family members faces; the shock, the hurt, and the painful question of where did he go wrong, then did I realize how much of a monster I've become. it only takes a few days, and a heartbreak to become something you never thought was possible.

"calum, come with me." mali dangles the car keys between her fingertips, gesturing for myself to follow- which I reluctantly do. I don't say anything as I pass my parents; embarrassed, and apologetic, but absolutely no words to speak.

silence threatens to engulf my entire being into a pit of nothing. mali leads the way, through the front door and into my car. she hasn't said anything, probably doesn't plan to, for which I am grateful for. the last thing I need is a lecture about my wrong doings; I know I'm wrong, I don't need to be told by the voice in my head and a family member that is always supposed to be on my side.

she allows my type of music to flow through the speakers, figuring that this is the best way to calm my nerves. to fill my empty hands, I unlock my phone and scroll through a bit of twitter. I stop, wishing I hadn't made the decision to go on Twitter in the first place. have you ever read something on the Internet that you probably shouldn't have, but now that you have you wish you hadn't? but your so infatuated with the simple reading that you can't stop running your eyes over, and soon it just rings in your head like that annoying gum commercial you saw last week? yeah, that was these tweets.

@/michaelstyles: please come back to me, I'm nothing without your arms wrapped around me.

@/michaelstyles: I miss the you I knew so long ago.

@/michaelstyles: for a long time I believed I could beat my demons... by the looks of it, I'll be gone before I'm twenty.

"wanna tell me why your crying?" and that's how I ended up gushing all about how much of a fück up I am to my sister at six on a Friday night.

+++
so he realizes his fücks

I gots a surprise for y'all

love you all - meagan