Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 29

Biggest chapter I've ever written! Enjoy the Chapter with 7801 words!

-Katexx

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Chapter 29

I skip school for the next two days after making my way back to the dorm and finding letters filled with hatred glued to the door. Alicia and Emily weren't particularly happy about it, especially since in the past two days none of us have gotten any hours of sleep, but it's finally calmed down. I figured that the first week of school is usually just about reading the syllabus and talk about the evaluation methods, so I wouldn't have to catch up on much.

Usually on Thursdays, I attend one class in the morning and I head to work afterwards for a calm afternoon at the restaurant. I haven't gotten out of the dorm in two days, so today I have no idea what to expect once I set foot outside to go to work. Photos are still circulating on the internet, and I receive a text message from Liam every once in a while to see if I'm doing alright with it. I've been told not to check my twitter mentions and so far I've complied very well due to anxiety. However I haven't gotten to replying to Liam yet, but I appreciate the fact that if I have any trouble to get somewhere, or if anyone is going overboard with the stalking, he's ready to help. Though I would only actually use his help if I were to be in a crisis, it's nice he still offers after everything.

I embrace the silence this morning; no one seems to be screaming at my door or anywhere in the building. For once there isn't any commotion outside so I wipe my tears and get out of bed even though it's already eleven. Emily and Alicia, I assume, are in class, so I take my time in the very small shower we have to scrub all the dried tears off my face, using my body sugar scrub just to make sure it's perfectly clean. My hair is sticky and greasy, the roots coming into strands from not having washed it in two days, so shampooing once isn't even enough.

When I'm feeling squeaky clean and can finally move the muscles on my face, I turn off the burning water and step out of the shower. With the towel I use for my hair, I wipe the layer of steam hiding my reflection in the mirror, as the six foot square bathroom isn't equipped with a ventilator or a window to do this job, and I ignore how puffy my eyes still are. The rims are bright red, puffy and shadowed by unbelievably intense dark circles. My heart stops at the sight of myself, but life must go on.

I jump when my phone vibrates on the side of the sink, but even though I'm not sure what I was expecting, I'm saddened to find a message from my mom.Hope you're having a good day. Love you xx. I lock my phone again and start getting ready.

Mom doesn't know much. She knows I decided to move into a dorm, but she thinks it's only for practical reasons. Since it was a last minute decision to move to England and she wasn't very okay with it, I decided to skip on the details in case she'd throw me the I told you soline. So as far as I know, she thinks I'm very happy right now. The drama going on online might contradict this statement but she doesn't need an explanation.

Last night I sent a message to Camilla. I wanted to tell her how I was doing, and that she might see me on the internet or on top of magazine covers, but not to believe all of it, maybe even any of it. I told her almost everything from New Year's to now, skipping some details about the spanking, or the intensity of Harry's green eyes when he kissed Amanda, but I told her about the cheating and the stalking. It feels like I almost haven't talked to her in a year, but at the same time I've never felt closer to her. I sent a similar message to my best friend Amanda, but over the past few days I've sent her text messages and talked to her over Skype several times, therefore she already knew most of the story.

I'm startled again when my phone starts vibrating for a second time once I'm done blow drying my hair. It slides off the ceramic and falls into the sink, which thankfully is empty of water. However, I would've rather liked to see my phone drown and die, because although I still didn't know what to expect this time again, other than another message from my mom, what greets me on my phone makes me drop it a second time in the sink. 'I'm going to kill you,' from an unknown number. Another one comes quickly after. 'I know where you live, and you're just a bitch who deserves to die. I'll finish you myself.'